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nxnoire · 5 years

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Desiderium

Don’t Let Them See You Cry

Part One Part Two Part Four

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

My third prompt for @badthingshappenbingo

———

Chat Noir had become a stray cat, roaming Paris trying to find a place to stay the night. It had been close to a half hour since he had barged out of his house. At first, he just needed to get out and make sense of the spinning thoughts in his head. Now that he had calmed down, he realized the danger of being out in the streets. The sun was slowly inching towards the horizon, nighttime coming soon to swallow the city in darkness. He wasn't safe out in the streets alone as a 15-year-old boy. His father—Hawkmoth could easily akumatize him, too. For once, he wished the demon wouldn't go looking for his lost son.

He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, trying to think of what to do. Marinette's house stood in front of him. He had considered Nino, but nobody was home. He'd crash with Alya, but she'd make a big deal out of it. All he needed was somebody who would help him without question. Marinette was the perfect person.

She sat on her rooftop balcony, sketching in her sketchbook. What would she think if he just waltzed in and asked her to shelter the superhero that was supposed to be a figure to look up to? Coming in as Adrien would be his best bet, but, still, it'd be like hitting a brick wall either way. How he would explain himself without giving his secret identity away, he had no idea.

There probably wasn't a good way to. All he'd be able to say is that his father was evil and he ran away. Basically, downplay the story until she was ready to hear the truth. Until he was ready. Truthfully, he didn't think he'd ever be ready to tell her, no matter how much it'd bug him.

He hopped off the roof and landed in an empty alley. Once he made sure nobody was around, he detransformed.

Plagg flew out of the ring and yawned, his yawn resembling a meow. "Did you find a place to stay yet?" He asked, expressing genuine concern for his owner.

"Yeah. We're gonna stay with Marinette for a while," he answered, beginning to head out of the alley.

Plagg didn't waste his time complaining. The kid needed to be with someone he knew. He needed someone that would understand him when he was ready to reveal his secrets. Someone that would save him and risk their own secret if necessary. He needed Ladybug, even if he didn't know it was her.

He hid in Adrien's pocket as they exited the safety of the alley. Adrien took a deep breath and crossed the street, walking closer and closer to the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Inside the shop was Marinette's mother, her father probably making pastries behind her. He'd just walk in that way and tell them he was there to get make-up work, or something like that.

He opened the shop door, causing a bell to ring. Sabine put on her retail face and looked up, but shed the mask when she saw it was Adrien who walked in. "Hello, Adrien, are you here to see Marinette?" she asked warmly.

"Yeah, is she here? I need help with the work I missed today," he said with his best fake smile.

"She should be in her room."

"Thank you, ma'am." He smiled and walked towards the door. He waved to Tom, who waved back, flour covering his hands and apron.

Once he walked into the apartment, he shed his mask, a more comfortable frown laying on his face. Slowly, he made his way upstairs to Marinette's room. For some reason, he was nervous to be there. What was he supposed to say? Her friend just barges in unexpectedly asking to stay with her for an unknown period of time. Not exactly normal to say the least.

Marinette's room was void of her presence, as expected. He walked over to her ladder and climbed it, careful not to fall. Quietly, he poked his head out of the trap door and looked at the girl. She was unaware of his presence, her concentration deep in her newest design.

"Marinette?" He called softly.

Marinette threw her sketchbook, shot up and turned around. "A-Adrien?!" She looked at him, flustered. "I thought you were kisk–I mean sick!"

He shook his head. "It's a long story..."

She noticed whatever it was seemed to be bothering him. "Do you need to talk about it?"

"Can we?"

She nodded and walked over to him, her heart beating quickly. As they stepped down the ladder, she noticed that her hands were shaking and sweaty. It was all normal to her, but she really wished that in that moment her body would stop freaking out.

They walked over to her desk and sat down in the chairs, facing each other. "So...what's wrong?" she asked, worried.

Adrien looked at the ground. No matter how much he wanted to avoid telling her the story, he had to. He was in her bedroom, the point of no return. Whatever he said, he knew wouldn’t leave the house, through. That comforted him just enough to push him to tell her. "I can't go back home. It's not safe. Not now at least."

"What? Why?"

He sighed heavily. "I just found out my father is Hawkmoth."

Marinette’s eyes were about to pop out of her skull. Of all people she could have been fighting, it had to be Gabriel Agreste. The world-famous fashion designer she looked up to. The father of her crush. Why, of all people, did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it have been anyone else? Someone that didn’t affect her friends. “Adrien...” she muttered sadly, his tears reflecting on her eyes.

Her hands reached out but stopped, not knowing what to do. As Ladybug she found it easy to comfort others. As Marinette...not so much. Especially when the person crying was Adrien. Usually, she hugged those in need and assured them that everything would be alright. It wouldn’t work this time. Nothing would ever alright. What he had just gone through was so harsh that he would never recover. It wasn’t something Ladybug could fix by throwing a Lucy Charm in the air. It wasn’t something capturing an akuma would fix. Capturing Hawkmoth wouldn’t help.

“I’m so sorry...” A hot tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she repeated, hating for herself for not knowing how to help him. “Please, stay here.” She sniffled and grabbed his hands, feeling the fallen droplets on his skin. He looked up at her, wanting to cry even more that he had made her cry too. “I promise you with my life that I will protect you. You’re safe here. Just...don’t go. I don’t know what’d happen if you didn’t have somewhere safe to stay.” She took in a shaky breath. “Please don’t leave me.”

Adrien smiled weakly, a smile that shattered Marinette’s heart. He was happy that he found a new home, even if it was temporary. There would be lively dinners, human interaction, people that truly cared about him, and, above all, no Miraculous to worry about, except for his own, of course. His face couldn’t display that joy. The pain was far too strong. Still, he forced himself to smile through the strong frown. “Thank you, Marinette.”

Without hesitation, he pulled her into a large hug. He held her tightly, a combination of needing human contact and not wanting to loose the only person that was there to protect him.

Marinette didn’t freak out for the first time in a while. Seeing him so raw had in turn made her raw, which worked in her favor as it curbed her anxiety. She closed her eyes and smiled, the last of her tears falling onto his shoulders.

After embracing each other for a few long moments, they pulled away. Adrien rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, the waterfall finally coming to a halt. He yawned, all of the sudden emotions tiring him out. His chronic lack of sleep wasn’t much help, either.

Marinette, rubbing her eyes, stood up and pushed her chair in. “Do you need anything? I could fix dinner for you, if you’d like.”

“No, but thank you. I just need sleep.” He ruffled his already messy hair.

Marinette finally took notice of how horrible he looked. His hair was a mess, nothing like the perfectly groomed hair Adrien normally donned. Instead of his typical outfit, he wore a hoodie and sweatpants. He hadn’t even bothered to grab tennis shoes, his feet fitting snug in a pair of slide-on sandals. The kindness that usually sat in his eyes was replaced with a gray haze. Dried tears he hadn’t bothered to wash off sat on top of the dark circles underneath them. This wasn’t the picture-perfect-company-image-Adrien she had come to know. This was his true form, him at his true worst.

"Maybe you should take a shower first," she suggested. Once her words registered, she became flustered again. "N-not that you're bad how you are now! I just thought-"

"No, I understand. I haven't been in the best mood lately. I think the shower can wait until tomorrow. Tonight, I need to separate myself from my old home."

An arrow shot through Marinette’s heart, shattering the broken pieces she had begun to put back together. It was almost impossible for her to imagine what it must have been like to be forced to leave all he loved behind. “Do you need to go back there and get a few things? I’d be glad to help.” She would 100% help him as Ladybug. The only problem was explaining how she got Ladybug to do it for her. In such a troubling time, she would willingly reveal her identity to help, but she couldn’t trust him, no matter how much she wanted to. This was Hawkmoth’s son. Even if she knew he was pure, she couldn’t take any chances.

“I can’t go back there. My father, he’d try to hurt me.” He looked at his Miraculous, and made himself aware of Plagg’s presence in his hoodie, half-wishing he had never been given it.

“Why would he do that? I’m sure he still loves you, even if he is...bad.”

"I can't explain it. If I did, it'd only put you in more danger."

"More danger?"

"He can find me, no matter where I am. He knows every single person I associate with. He's going to send my bodyguard and Nathalie. They're going to find out where I am eventually. If they can't, he'll just send over an akuma and figure it out easily." He sighed. "And I can't be akumatized.”

“If you were akumatized, I’m sure Ladybug and Chat Noir would help you.” She saw something strange flash in his eyes. “Besides...I don’t think I’d be in any more danger.” She was. She was Ladybug. She had the Miraculous his father wanted. If he found Adrien and her together, and tired to hurt her for helping him...he would figure it out easily and things wouldn’t be so pretty.

“What’s the worst he could do,” she continued, “akumatize me? If neither of us have a Miraculous, there’s no way he’d be able to do much harm to us.”

Plagg squirmed in the hoodie, hitting Adrien’s chest. It was tacit that the kwami was trying to warn him against mentioning his Miraculous. “It doesn’t matter. This will only end in pain. He’s going to find a way to get the Miraculous. He’s angry. Really angry. There’s going to be a really strong akuma soon, and it’s probably going to be me.”

"Not on my watch." He looked back up at Marinette. "I know how to avoid akumatization. All you have to do is tell yourself there's another way out, and he can't hurt you. Besides, he can't just come into my house and take you. If it comes down to it, we can run off to someone else's house. For now, though, we stay here and keep our eyes open."

But I have a Miraculous. It's extremely dangerous here, Adrien wished he could say.

It is dangerous being around him. I have a Miraculous, Marinette thought, weighing the good and bad.

Adrien stood up. "Can I go to bed now? I think I need to hit reset for a bit."

Marinette nodded. "You can sleep in my bed, if you'd like. I can sleep down here for a while until we figure something out."

"Can you lay with me? I don't feel comfortable being alone." He scratched the back of his head and looked to the side.

"U-uh, yes, I'd love to! Ah, I mean-yes, I'd love to help! Yeah, I'm always ready to help my best friend!"

Adrien smiled. Another yawn came over him, signaling he was about to crash. He climbed onto the bed, it’s warmth singing an irresistible song. Marinette followed, not bothering to change out of her normal clothes. A bright blush tinted her face, her anxiety finally coming back. Both teens got under the blanket awkwardly and lay down facing away from each other.

Almost immediately, Adrien fell asleep. He lay completely still, his chest softly rising and falling with his calm breathing. Marinette looked at him and smiled. She was in the same bed as Adrien Agreste! No, she shook her head. He's hurting. This isn't the time to be fangirling.

She turned around and looked at Tikki, who seemed more troubled than Marinette. "Tikki, what's wrong?"

"It's just...I feel so bad for him, and...there's other things that I can't tell you, to keep you safe. I'm sure when he's ready he'll tell you," Tikki explained.

Marinette nodded and turned the light off, enveloping the room in a comfortable darkness. The lights from Paris peeked through the windows, keeping the room from being completely dark. She closed her eyes and found sleep easy to come.

Tikki waited until Marinette had fallen asleep before flying over to Plagg, who had hidden under the bed. "Are you okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm just worried for him. It's a lot to handle, especially since he's so young," Plagg explained.

Tikki understood completely. "Come lay up here. You don't have to worry here." She flew onto the bed, Plagg following. Both kwamis curled up by their owners and lay, hoping Hawkmoth would be kind that night.

———

Marinette’s eyes slowly opened to the annoying sound of her alarm. She groaned and turned it off, wishing for another couple hours of sleep. Just as she was about to sit up, she felt something laying on her. She looked down. Flesh? Her body froze as she realized what—or who—it was.

A scream almost erupted from her mouth, the sharp pain of her biting her lip preventing it from manifesting. The fact that Adrien had stayed the night had completely gone out the window during her slumber. Surprisingly, he was still fast asleep. He had cuddled up next to her, his arm and leg resting on her.

What was she supposed to do? He looked so peaceful sleeping like that. Cute, even. They couldn't be late to school, though. Well, Marinette couldn't. Not again.

Tikki flew over and gave Marinette a sly grin. Marinette pouted her lip. "This isn't funny!" she whispered. "I slept in the same bed as Adrien Agreste! He slept in my bed!"

All she got in return was that same grin. She turned to face Adrien again, giving up on entrusting her kwami for support. It was now or never. If she hesitated, both of them would be late. She set her hand on his shoulder and shook it softly. "Adrien...it's time to get up."

Luckily, his eyes slid open not long after she began to wake him up. He blinked a couple times, trying to register where he was. Once he came to, he sat up quickly and looked at Marinette, who had already begun to sit up.

"Good morning," Marinette said, trying to hide her embarrassment. She hoped she’d be the only one to remember the position they had slept in."Let's get ready for school, okay?"

He nodded and was the first to get down, not saying a word. Marinette followed, hoping his silence was due to his lack of awareness.

"I can show you the way to the bathroom," she suggested.

"Okay," he muttered, his voice still hoarse from sleeping.

She led him downstairs, only to be greeted by her mother, who had made breakfast for the both of them. "Ah!" Marinette exclaimed, almost falling down the stairs. "M-mom! I can explain it's-"

"Oh, honey, you don't have to explain. I know you're just trying to help a friend out," Sabine said sweetly. "I made breakfast for the both of you!"

Both teens walked over to the table, trying to hide their embarrassment. Adrien had finally begun to wake up and fully realized how strange the situation was. With that also came him remembering the events that took place the day before. He swallowed and looked down at the breakfast made for him.

He looked back up at Marinette, who was staring at the TV behind him. He smiled, without truly knowing why. He snapped out of it and turned to look at the TV, but Marinette stopped him.

"Ah, so, uh, Adrien..." she began, gaining his attention. "I guess I could help you catch up on what you missed yesterday. Once you're done eating, that is."

He nodded. "Thanks, that would help a lot."

Once they had finished eating in awkward silence, Marinette showed Adrien the way to the bathroom, allowing him to take as much time as he needed.

She sighed on the other side of the door and walked over to her mother. "We need to protect him from the news, Mom."

Her mother nodded, watching the broadcast of Gabriel Agreste.

"My son and I had a little...argument last night. He ran off, all of his teen angst getting the better of him. I hope we find him soon."

Marinette narrowed her eyes, knowing the only true reason he wanted Adrien was because he was Hawkmoth. If Adrien was home, then the secret would be safe. He could prevent Adrien from saying a thing just by locking him up and taking his access to the outside world.

Adrien leaned against the vanity, trying not to cry. Of course he remembered every single word his father said to him. He wished he could go back, but he couldn't. Not if his father was...

He refused to put those two names in the same sentence. Maybe if he ignored it, he would eventually be numb to it, just like everything else. He splashed water on his face, cooling it down and washing the budding tears away with it. Once he dried his face, he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make it look semi-presentable. Tonight, he'd have to return home and get his things, no matter what. He couldn't live with just the clothes in his back, the ring on his finger, and the cell phone in his pocket.

He pulled the phone out and saw texts from his father and Nathalie. He didn't bother reading them before he deleted them. Sighing, he put the phone back in his pocket and walked out of the bathroom.

He noticed Marinette was all ready. He remembered he had forgotten to grab his bag from home, so all of his school work was still there.

Marinette saw he had finished and walked over to him. "We can share notes today. We'll find a way to get your things back later, okay?"

He nodded and followed the girl outside, avoiding the eyes of her parents and the customers. "I'm sorry, again, for dragging you into all of this."

"No, no, don't apologize! I'm always happy to help, Adrien." They crossed the street and walked to the school in silence, both trying to find the right words to say.

Neither of them were able to say anything because Alya and Nino had noticed them walking together. Alya ran over, dragging Nino with her.

"Marinette! Adrien! Fancy seeing you two here," Alya said, obviously wanting a full length essay about why they had come to school together.

"Dude, are you okay? You look horrible," Nino noted, worried for his best friend.

"Oh, yeah, I still don't feel too well," he scratched the back of his head.

"Hmm." Alya narrowed her eyes. "You don't seem sick. Why didn't your bodyguard bring you to school today?"

He froze. "Uh...because, uh..." He could feel himself about to cry with the mention of a piece of his home. He bit his lip, trying to hold back the gushing river.

"It's a long story, guys," Marinette cut in. "How about you let him explain when he's ready?"

Alya was taken aback. "Woah, someone's getting defensive."

"Al, let's just them go," Nino, suggested, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"But this is big news! Marinette not being flustered around Adrien, Adrien looking like he just climbed out of a grave, and both of them arriving to school together without his bodyguard! Is this not–"

"Let it go."

Alya looked at her two friends, who looked more uncomfortable now. She sighed and heeded Nino's advice. "Whatever, just let us know when you're ready."

They all walked inside and into class in silence. Adrien leaned into Marinette's ear. "Can I sit by you today?" He asked.

She nodded, blushing. She sat down and patted the seat next to her, signaling for Adrien to sit down. He sat down and toyed with his Miraculous subconsciously, not having much to do. As he sat in silence, his ears picked up the conversations of others.

Did you hear what happened?

No, what?

Gabriel Agreste just came on the news and said Adrien had run away last night!

But...he's right there.

Where did he go?

What happened to him?

He tried to hold back his tears, but one slid down his cheek, causing the rest of them to flow. There was no sobbing, no messiness. Just tears falling down his cheeks and him burying his head in his arms to hide them.

Marinette noticed he had lay his head down and became concerned. He wasn't one to sleep in class or even rest his head. Still, she let him be, hoping he'd be fine. In his state, he didn’t need to be pestered.

He was anything but fine, but he had to hide his pain. He didn't know why. Maybe if nobody could see his pain, he wouldn't worry others. If he hid his pain then everyone would be safer. Marinette was already in danger. Nobody else needed to be put in danger because of himself.

Once he felt the tears stop, he lifted his head, sniffled, and rubbed his eyes. He rested his head in his hand and spaced out as Miss Bustier began her lesson.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous fanfic #adrienette #bad things happen bingo #angst #angst fic #i cried while writing this :(

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whiskeykneat · 5 years

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One More Saturday Night [1]

Notes: trying something a little different since the ao3 link doesn't seem to be working for some people. I made a cut but if it doesn't work this is tagged #long post. // Summary: For everyone else, it's just one more Saturday night in 1964, but for Gale Hawthorne and Peeta Mellark, they’ve both received letters that will change the course of their lives forever. // Rating: this chapter is T, but some parts will be N*FW

I. Fortunate Son (1964)

CHAPTER ONE

It's eight o'clock on a sultry July night in Twelvetrees, West Virginia. Down at the carhop, Katniss Everdeen has just switched shifts with Joanna Mason, and as she leans against the freezer, stretching her sore calves, she's unaware that the boy who's just rolled up in the parking lot with his brothers, the one who carries fifty pound sacks of flour to the back door and gets tongue tied in her presence, would give her the world if he could.

While Joanna slicks red lipstick on her sultry mouth and clips on her garters under the flickering yellow light of the washroom, Peeta Mellark sits in the parking lot of the carhop and turns the words he'll say to Katniss Everdeen over and over again in his mouth, the official decision letter from the draft board burning a hole in his pocket.

He ain't needed here. Got some brothers. That son of yours has always been useless. Let the army straighten him out, Mr Mellark. His mother's words feel like they've been seared into his soul, deeper than the burns from his many years of tending the ovens in their family bakery.

[[MORE]]

"Peet! Cat got your tongue?" Delly giggles, elbowing Peeta in the side. Delly is like a sister to him, they grew up side by side in the garden between the shoe shop and the bakery, fast friends since the day she found him hiding from his mother under the rose bushes.

Unlike Peeta, Delly has always known what she'll do when she grows up, and that's marrying the boy with the easy, charming smile who sits even now with one arm slung over her shoulders -- Peeta's second eldest brother, Wheatley. Their lives are laid out before them like the instructions for a gingerbread house, all it takes it for the pieces to be iced together, like a fairy story, falling into place.

The letter crinkles in Peeta's shirt pocket when he pats it, and as if he knows what's on Peeta's mind, Wheatley nudges him unsubtly. "You gonna tell her?" Peeta has never been close to his older brothers, and this spirit of bonhomie at the eleventh hour feels like they've already picked out a plot at the VA cemetery for him.

Peeta shrugs, feeling a blush heat his cheeks as Katniss skates on by.

"My, I wish I could pull off those dungarees!" Delly chirps, pointing at Katniss.

"I think she looks..." Like a stone cold fox. "...Outta sight." And Katniss does. She's got her dark hair pinned up like old posters of Rosie the Riveter, with a plain scrubbed face and not a hint of makeup. Yet something about her is still so inexpressibly arresting that Peeta can't help but stare at her, lost in thought, as she skates between the cars, taking orders left and right.

She's a devil on skates: her form needs work, but she can serve five cars in under fifteen minutes, with nary a drop of root beer float spilled in a single lap. She never smiles, but Peeta knows any boy in town would love to take her to Lookout Point for some necking. The sexual revolution may not have made it this deep into the mountains yet, but when there's nothing else to do, people make their own fun.

Still, the line is drawn between the Seam and Town, Katniss is the girl from the wrong side of the tracks, and Peeta may not want to admit it to himself, but that's the real reason any town boy would take her out, to see if she'd go all the way, or if she'd keep her legs locked up tight.

As she passes by the finned Buick Electra, she looks up and meets Peeta's eye, and though she never breaks the flow, he sees her look back again, and he could swear she almost smiles.

•••

I don't know how you do it, Joanna had said earlier, with a tone in her voice that might have been a slap or a smile. You might just make something of yourself and get out of this town, kiddo. What she doesn't say is written on every silver scar that marks her flesh, but Katniss lets Joanna keep her secrets, and that's why they're friends.

When Joanna slams out the back door, Katniss hears a Caddy roar in the alley like a tiger, and there's the scream of her friend's high laughter before the only sound left in the waiting night is crickets and the catchy song trickling from the kitchen radio: Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do...

For a moment, Katniss is lost in the past, and she stares out the back door as the moths flutter at the neon lights, feeling every year of her eighteen summers and twenty more besides, as though she's faded to a pale reflection of herself before she's ever gotten her or Prim out of this place.

"You look like you're run off your feet, girl. Sit down and take a breather. Them Town kids can wait." Chaff plucks the order pad from Katniss's fingers and starts putting up the tickets as he steers her to a chair beside the fan. "'Sides, Mitch would kill me if you fainted on my watch." Chaff passes Katniss an ice cold bottle of pop, and she feels herself sag in relief.

Chaff once flew planes with Abernathy, back in the war with Germany, but beyond that she hardly knows him at all, for Chaff never talks about the city he left to come to their little town that sleeps as the rest of the modern world passes them by.

The bottle of pop sweats in her hands, and it makes her think of the way her pa would bring home one as a treat when she was little, to be shared sip by tiny sip with her baby sister, each fizzy bubble held in their mouths for as long as they could, to make the sweetness last.

"Shit, Miss Undersee was supposed to be here an hour ago." Chaff smacks a hand on the counter, but Katniss can tell he doesn't half care. "If she's late one more time, I'll fire her ass. I don't care who her daddy is."

Before Katniss can make up an excuse for Madge (the secret of how sick Madge's mama is lies on her tongue like a wedge of pitch, sticking her gums together), Chaff passes her a twist of greasy fries and a milkshake (strawberry, like the wild berries she used to sell door to door with her best friend Gale, before he went down the mine). She can't believe how ravenous she is, anyone would think she hadn't eaten since breakfast, and that's as close to the truth as she's willing to admit to herself.

Ever since the mine explosion that killed her father, back in '55, Katniss has had to shift for herself and her sister, keeping their small family afloat. The mine owner sent their mama to a sanitarium in Richmond to recuperate. When she returned, she seemed half the person she used to be, and had to return again and again to be put back together for something called hysteria.

But that's all water under the bridge now, and Katniss is no longer that frightened eleven year old girl, forced to survive on the kindness of strangers. Abernathy took pity on her and hired her as soon as she turned fifteen to work for him at the carhop, and she'll spend her life trying to repay a debt that can never be quantified.

Mr Abernathy passed out hours ago, he's almost as fond of white lightning as Katniss is of making extra tips, anything to get out of this town before it's too late. She's got a scholarship to the university, the same place Abernathy went to, even though she's no more likely to study physics than she is to sprout wings and fly away from the dust of this coal town.

At midnight, when the neon lights shut down, and all the moths in town flock to the lustrous glow the stars make over the quarry pond, she and Chaff will use all of their combined strength to roll Abernathy over and make sure he doesn't drown in his own vomit. That's part of her debt, and she'll be deep in it until she shuffles off this mortal coil.

So when Madge bursts through the door, not a single strand of blonde hair out of place, Katniss is too full of sugar and grease to protest when Madge insists she'll take the next orders out.

"Been pilin' up." Chaff nods to the tickets. "That little Cartwright gal came by and dropped 'em off while Katniss took a breather. By the sounds of it, they're gittin' liquored up out there." But he doesn't make a move to stop Madge from going out the door.

Madge blows a strand of golden hair off her forehead and adjusts her headband, her pale fingers flying over the laces in an intricate pattern as she re-ties her skates. They're pristine white, the kind that Katniss's little sister Primrose would give her eye teeth for, but nothing in the Seam stays white for long, not with the coal dust that gets onto everything, coating it like funerary ash.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she says to Katniss, biting her lip and looking away from her friend. Chaff makes a sound of deep disgust in his throat, and passes Madge the tray. Once she's skated from sight, he turns back to the fryer, and turns up the radio.

Come gather 'round friends and I'll tell you a tale / Of when the red iron pits ran a-plenty / But the cardboard-filled windows and old men on the benches / Tell you now that the whole town is empty (North Country Blues, Bob Dylan)

•••

Madge has skated eleven blocks to get here, refusing to take her daddy's car like some spoiled little debutante, although she might have a year ago, before she went to university, before everything began to fall apart. There's a run in her stockings that will have to be repaired soon, and a burning in her lungs that reminds her she's alive. Now that she's been to university and back, this town feels smaller than ever, but it's a good feeling, as if nothing bad could ever happen here, cocooned from the world outside.

When the lights turn down low, and the town sleeps, she'll lie in her bed and listen to the hum of the locusts in the sycamore tree, where the initials M+G are still scarred across the trunk, as if life followed a pattern, laid out like a children's jumping rhyme.

•••

It is quite propitious, as far as plans go, Miss Undersee. Seneca dabbed at his lips with his napkin. His mustache was damp with moisture, and she felt her stomach curdle at the way it gleamed wetly under the lights. She just hoped he got this whole breakup over with soon, because she was sure that one more minute of having to endure his rubbery lips and his mechanical groping on her knee would make her commit an entirely unladylike act.

As Madge fantasized about flipping Seneca the bird, he laid a clammy hand over hers and took a deep breath. With my money and your breeding, I think a marriage would suit the pair of us, don't you agree?

But my degree... I haven't finished it yet. Madge's smile froze in place, suddenly entirely too aware of the predatory gazes of the waitstaff, as though the entire moment had been orchestrated. She felt blindsided, and furious all at once. But good manners won out, and she smiled again, with a cheer she did not feel.

Seneca laughed, a touch of condescension creeping into his voice. I'm not marrying you for your mind, Margareta. Your father said you might be stubborn.

Madge reeled back in shock, stunned. Suddenly it all seemed too much: the soft candlelight felt as garish as the cheap lights of a carnival fanfare, the white wine in her glass tasted like rotgut mash. She tried to tug her hand back from Seneca's, but he held it fast. You talked to my daddy already? Her voice seemed to be coming from far away.

Why, of course I did, darling. Seneca squeezed her arm tight, a warning. Now, if you want to finish your university degree by mail, that's fine with me, but you won't need any of that when you're Mrs Seneca Crane, wife to the next senator of West Virginia. He continued his monologue, the room fading to a single pinprick of light until all Madge could see was that flashy diamond, all she could hear was the sound of champagne corks and applause, and all she could feel was the tightness closing in on her, as if Seneca's ring was around her neck instead of her finger.

#long post #gadge #gale/madge #gale x madge #everlark #historical au #hunger games #hunger games fic #underthorne #gale hawthorne #madge undersee #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

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tastefullynefarious · 5 years

Text

Violent Delights

Chapter 2

Warnings: Still none? Oops.

Word count: 2,018

Note: I’m a little stupid and managed to lose this chapter twice... so like, I wrote this three times, I’m jut sick of it :))) may be a little all over the place. Not sure how well I’ve got across what I wanted... the last time typing this was a drag...

I feel the need to point out that real life Ronnie was bi, so there’s that... also married a few times?

The night was spent twisting and turning in her bed. She told herself for a moment it was because of the full moon, shining through the windows, but there was no reason to lie like that. Her mind was truly infested with thoughts of the man at the bar, from his fingers that were wrapped on his glass and the way they would look on her skin, to those plump lips of his. Would they be soft, or as hard as the rest of him looked? And his eyes! Damn those eyes, piercing through her until they reached her very naked soul.

She groaned and rolled on her stomach, shoving her face in the pillow. She wondered what would have happened had she stayed just a little bit longer. Would have he approached her? Or wait for her to reach him, pull her into his lap, his hand not discretely at all going under her rolled up dress, along her outer thigh. Sleep hadn't come easy that night.

She was not stupid, she knew who the man was. Anyone who lived in East End London for a couple of month like her would have heard something, anything, about the Kray twins. Some of her neighbors have even met them. Most of the stories weren't pretty though, but that was quite alright, wasn't it? She didn't fancy pretty, she ran away from it. The only thing she was weary about was the persistent rumor that he may not have been entirely into women. Could have she completely misunderstood that look he had given her? It was quite possible his eyes hadn't been on her, but on a young man who may have been seated just behind her, old lovers sharing an all-consuming glance. She might have been just an unwanted spectator, caught in the burning flame of their passion, only to be left behind, ever yearning to bask into that warmth again. At least once more!

There was no way of separating truth from fiction, though there was one thing most agreed upon: Reggie had a heart of gold while Ronnie had no heart at all. And she had known instantly under which brother's stare she had been under, be it from the glasses he was wearing or the fact she had seen Reggie once before, when Ron had been still in prison.

Prison!

She looked at her reflection in her small vanity, already setting her makeup for the night; heavy on the lashes to make her eyes bigger. What was wrong with her? On that afternoon she came to a revelation, a truth she had already known deep down, but didn't want to acknowledge: she was drawn to danger and it was not alright at all. But she couldn't help it. The thought that life wasn't a set of domino pieces, fated to perfectly fall one onto another with precision was intoxicating, it was like pure adrenaline pumped into her veins, instantly painting her small world in vibrant colors. Life wasn't perfect, it had ups and downs, beauty and filth, both equally important.

But these were criminals -gangsters - not some handsoe bad boys who could only hurt her pride by cheating. She liked to think she was fairly smart, and while not as beautiful as those Hollywood babes everyone was raving about, she was at least pretty. Still, she doubted her ability to talk or flirt her way out of a messy situation if any of the powerful men at the club would consider her a nuisance. She could turn up dead come morning, body left somewhere in a ditch, her killer never to be found. 'Such a shame. If only she hadn't left her home town', he papers would read.

So was the high worth the risk?

She slipped into the red dress with ease, the garment now new, but the perfect combination of classy and hot: hem barely passing her knees, long sleeves, but bare back, her favorite style. The problem with that kind of danger was that it was a bit like falling airplanes... or cancer. It was something very scary and very real, that you didn't quite take seriously until it was happening to you. People still traveled by plane and most did little to prevent the disease without reason. She gave herself one last look into the mirror she was ready for the night. Puling a coat over her shoulders and grabbing her purse, Trudy left her apartment with haste, before she could change her mind the millionth time that day.

The air was colder than the night before, a chill running down her spine despite her coat. Each step brought her closer to the club and with each step the excitement was bubbling more and more inside her. Questions were forming and were already replaced with new ones before she could find an answer to any. Would he even be there two nights in a row? If he was, should she approach him? Was that allowed? Should she try being flirty or try the blushing bride card? Just be herself? First things first, she needed a drink.

Ron had put together all there was about the woman by noon, with the help of Teddy. There wasn't much to her: average family, if only slightly above. Father was a war hero, retiring with a nice amount of money, but nowhere near the toppers in London. Mother was the picture perfect brunch-throwing house wife. An older brother, up to make a name for himself as a doctor. A younger sister still in college.

And then there was her, Trudy Walters, small town girl and middle sibling. Average grades in college, average job, set to marry an average guy. No wonder the poor thing ran away and never looked back, her brain was turning to mush from all the boredom. He flipped another page of the file he'd put together, skipping the information of her current whereabouts, address and workplace, his eyes landing on the picture clipped on the corner. She didn't look much, yet there was just something about her that made his thumb caress the black and white cheek.

"Personally, I don't see what's the fuss about her, Ron." Teddy glanced over his shoulder, his usual chipper voice laced with something else. He had the illogical urge to hide the photo away, despite the younger man being the one to have acquired it in the first place. Those pills they were making him take were surely at fault for his inconsistent behavior.

"I want her." The words slipped his tongue without regard and he cursed himself for revealing something so personal, even if it was just to Teddy. Stupid pills!

"Go get her then."

Ron lifted his eyes towards the bar where Teddy had gestured to, and sure enough there she was, almost as if pulled out of the picture, yet infinity more beautiful. That red dress, somehow proper yet still teasing. He wasted little time thinking his next move as he pounced towards his prey, but once before her, he faltered. He was not as charming as Reggie, nor nearly as handsome. Why would a woman like her accept to talk to the likes of him?

"Hello." Never had the greeting sounded more sinful from any lips, he was sure of it. He had the mind to bend her right there over the bar counter and slam right in her. He had to settle for just sitting in the newly vacated chair, the bloke previously there scurrying away when met with Ron's glare. The woman watched him from between her long lashes, waiting for him to reply. What would Reggie say to a pretty thing like her?

"You look lovely."

"And you look dangerous." Despite the accusation, there was still a smile playing on her red lips. "So what does the notorious Ronald Kray want with little ol' me?" 'Make you scream my name while the entire club watches' was the first thought that came to mind. But the way she said his name gave a momentary pause to the lewd images in his head.

"Ah, so you do know who I am."

"And you know who I am from the looks of it." She tapped a manicured finger on the file he hadn't realized he'd brought along. "Should I be scared, mister Kray?"

"Are you scared, miss Walters?" There was a small pause, the corners of her lips straightening just slightly as she thought it through. Her voice came out low, barely a whisper, the last word turning out into more of a gasp than anything else. It sounded divine.

"A little bit, yeah."

"Good, good. It would have been worrisome if you weren't." He had to look away from her, feeling his restraint weakening. Their mum raised both him and Reggie to be gentlemen, but she was so fucking tempting. Not his usual preference, but she wouldn't have been the first woman he had been attracted to, nor the last. Men were just a little harder to break and he did enjoy a challenge. Her voice brought him back to attention, but he still didn't look at her as he signaled the bartender for his usual drink.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You seem to know a whole lot about me, yet all I know is your name."

"What would you like to know?"

"Do you enjoy being a gangster?" There was no need to think about the answer, but he did pause. For someone who knew only his name, she sure asked all the wrong questions.

"Fucking love it." She giggled, and it sounded loudly in hie ears, over the music. She had a nice voice, he decided. It was soft and calm, just like the rest of her looked like. She'd break so easily under him, like porcelain.

"Honest, I like that. You should not have to hide who you truly are for anyone, right?" At that, he sharply turned to look at her again, her words burning deep inside his mind. She jumped slightly in her chair as he caught her staring at his lips, her eyes falling on her lap. He smiled a little, as he continued watching her squirm in her chair under his gaze: the way she crossed her legs, the damn dress caught in the motion revealing a bit more skin, her delicate looking hand brushing her hair behind her ear, her cheek flustered red, so much prettier than in the photo. He might have just pulled her to him, hadn't they been interrupted.

"The meeting is starting in the back. Reg is looking for you." Teddy was besides them before he had a chance to reply anything to the woman. Ron considered being late to the damn thing, but how could he let Reggie face those jackals alone? He was entirely too trusting, his brother. He thought of leaving her there at the bar until the meeting was over, but there was no knowing how long or how well it would go. He found himself once more wondering what his twin would have done.

"Right, Teddy, will you see miss Walters gets home alright?" If he had anything against it, the boy didn't show it. If anything, he looked a little smug.

"Sure, Ron. Come on, darling." She got up without question or complaint and without meeting his eyes. His jaw clenched as she walked past him and he thought she wasn't even going go bid him farewell. But she stopped just within arm's reach and turned, her warm doe like eyes pinning him like daggers.

"Until tomorrow then, mister Kray." And then she left the club with Teddy, but for some reason still popped into Ron's thoughts. He wasn't sure how much of the discussion he followed that night, but made a mental note to talk with Reggie about those pills messing with his mind.

#ronnie kray x reader #ron kray x reader #ron kray #ronnie kray fanfiction #ronald kray #reggie kray #legend #violent delights #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy imagine #kray twins

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