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delicrieux · 3 years

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

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Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

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“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Use All of Me (P.13)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Thirteen) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 3,575 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death

Part Twelve || Part Fourteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

A branch snapped out in the woods and you turned quickly towards the noise. It was dark outside still, the sun just starting to rise. You had been unable to sleep since 3:30am and instead of tossing and turning that could wake Yua up, you had come out onto the upper balcony with a book and a blanket.

The only sound you heard now was your heart pounding in your ears, worried that you were going to see a shadow step out from behind the trees in the shape of Steve’s broad shoulders.

But the woods were quiet, no looming figures. Slowly, you relaxed, the tension leaving your muscles. You could not see anything, so you nestled back down, opening the book again. After a few minutes, the sound was forgotten, and you were immersed in your book.

When you finally came back inside, Yua was up by then. You walked quietly by Natalie’s still sleeping form and made your way down the stairs carefully. Yua was already at the sink making herself some coffee. She eyed you as you walked into the kitchen.

“God, look how big you are,” Yua said groggily, eyeing your stomach.

“Good morning to you too. And yes, I can feel it,” you jested. “26 weeks.”

She laughed, “I mean honestly. Since this all started out… it’s like you swallowed a volleyball. It just hits me sometimes, still catches me off guard.”

“Soon to be a basketball, I’m sure.”

“Or bigger.”

“Probably bigger,” you admitted, grabbing a glass to get yourself some water.

“Well, you’re not that size yet. So, where is my breakfast? Cause you look like you’ve been up for a while. Why isn’t it ready?” Yua joked.

Yawning, you said, “Well, ma’am, I was actually going to go back to bed after I got something to drink. I’ve been up since 3:30. I couldn’t sleep. And now it’s catching all up to me. But if you would like, I could make you eggs.”

She waved you off, “I was just kidding. Go back to sleep. It’s still early enough! Do you want me to put a plate of food in the fridge for you for whenever you do wake up?”

“That would be nice,” you said before taking a large gulp of the water. You placed the half empty water glass back on the counter and said, “I’ll have that later too. Don’t want to drink too much at one time. The babies have declared a competition on who can kick my bladder the hardest.”

<><><>

Back in New York, Clint looked way too proud of himself as he strode into the room, but it caught Steve’s attention because that could mean only one thing. And that thing was going to bode well for him.

He was halfway out of his seat as Clint approached, a wide grin tearing at the sides of his mouth.

“I think I got it,” he said, throwing the few pictures he had printed out upstairs on the desk in front of Steve. Steve sat back down, pulling the photos towards him eagerly. “I saw that one of Natalie’s cousins had some photos up in the woods. I couldn’t get a location on them because I wasn’t friends with him. So, I got Shuri to make up a hack for me to gain access to an account. I chose one of the aunts, disguising it as a money scheme – she fell for it, clicked on the link. I was able to gain access to her account and was able to access more of the photos on his page. He’s got a cabin in New Hampshire.”

Steve was looking at the photos of the family outside their cabin.

“If she isn’t on the trains,” Clint said, excitedly. “Where are we now with the cameras? The west coast? We should have seen her by now if she was on the Amtrak.” He pointed eagerly at the pictures and said, “This might be it. It wouldn’t cost them anything to stay in and it’s probably secluded. It’s not too far but it’s far enough out of state.”

<><><>

Wanda was leaning back on the couch, flipping through a magazine. She had been watching the cameras for most of the early morning, but Tony had arrived around 6:30am, wanting to try different locations so she got up and left, giving him the space he needed.

The phone on the desk rang nearby, drawing her attention instantly, and she sat up, craning her neck to look at it. The phone was the number they had given out on the ads to call if anyone had any information on Y/N’s whereabouts. Tony’s gaze was locked on it too and before he could react, she was there, picking it up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m calling about the missing persons ad.”

Wanda’s breath caught for a moment before she breathed, “Yes?”

“For Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Yes,” Wanda said more impatiently.

“Saw a woman like the photo at one of the cabins up here as I was on a walk real early this morning, right as the sun was coming up. She was sitting on the porch, very pregnant. I didn’t get a great look at her, didn’t want to gawk, you know. Plus, I think I was on their property, so I was probably trespassing, but I was following a doe—”

“Where was it at?” Wanda asked, cutting him off in the politest voice she could muster.

<><><>

“Steve!” Wanda called, taking the stairs by two. Steve called from the community room and she walked briskly, practically breaking into a jog. When she entered the room, she saw Clint, Sam, and him were looking at some photos on the table. Tearing her attention away from that, she said in a rush, “We maybe got something. A man named Will called about it, saying he thinks he saw Y/N.”

“In New Hampshire?”

“Y-Yes?” Wanda said completely confused at how he knew that.

Clint looked beside himself and Steve demanded, “Where at? Did you get a location?”

Wanda told him the address and Steve pulled his phone out, typing it into the maps app. He slammed his hand down on the desk in triumph, standing quickly. He thrust the phone into Clint’s hands. Sam was trying to peer over Clint’s shoulders to get a look too.

“That’s the same damn cabin,” Steve exclaimed, hardly able to contain his excitement. Wanda took notice of the pictures now, leaning over the table to look at them herself.

“Are we going now?” Sam asked just as Steve breezed past him. His eyes swept to Clint and said, “I guess so then.”

“Ha, teamwork,” Clint smiled, squeezing Wanda on the shoulder encouragingly as he walked by, rushing to follow Steve.

<><><>

The team was quick in their assemble upon arrival, Bucky and Natasha having to travel to get there which set Steve on edge because he had been ready immediately in his black suit, anxiousness coursing through him. He was pacing in front of the facility, having a hard time containing the hope blooming. His eyes were set on the tree line, wanting to just get into the car and drive to the address, scoop Y/N up and bring her back home.

He was not going to make the same mistakes he had that had let her slip through his fingers. If he could help it, she would never step foot off that property without him again. He would make sure she learned that lesson as soon as he got her home.

Tony met him at the edge of the entrance patio, not suited up. He was staying behind to monitor from there and he surprised Steve with a small drone, holding it out to him.

“You should not go in there guns blazing before you get sights on her or something to be absolutely sure. Use this. You don’t need to be barging into some random pregnant person’s cabin. Not a good look, not good press. Especially since you’ve got it out there now that you are looking for her. This drone is quiet, but it’s not silent so don’t fly too close or they’ll hear it and it’ll blow your whole covert cover.”

“You mean hovering above the place in a plane isn’t going to do that?”

“You’re not taking a plane, jackass,” Tony retorted, and Steve smirked in response. “Park down the road. You can go in on foot.” Steve thanked him, taking the drone. Tony ran his eyes up and down Steve and asked, “Was it really necessary to get up in the suit?”

“Can’t exactly show up in slacks. Just in case things get squirrelly,” Steve responded.

“’Squirrelly’,” Tony chortled. “Y/N will hardly be able to run.” Steve’s only response to that with a slight smile of acknowledgement. Tony stepped closer and said, “I got something else too. Of course, they say it doesn’t exist because the general public already has an issue with frothing at the mouth with conspiracy theories of the government tracking them. People honestly suffer from grandiosity in this country.” He noticed the impatient look on Steve’s face and apologized, “Sorry. Soap box. How do you feel about a GPS chip?” Steve’s eyes widened in surprise and Tony back tracked quickly. “Right. We can talk about that when she gets back home, safe and sound. I’ve just wanted to try out the new model and she seems like the perfect candidate, perfect circumstance. We’ll chat when you’re back. Don’t forget.”

Tony clapped Steve on the shoulder before walking back towards the door to the elevator.

<><><>

The trip up north was taking longer than Steve wanted it to, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thigh as he watched the trees go by. The thought that Y/N would somehow get tipped off and bolt before he got there was eating away at him. He was watching his phone anxiously, seeing them get closer and closer to where the cabin should be.

When Clint pulled off on the highway at what should be the end of the road that would lead to the cabin, Steve threw the door open and stepped outside. He was ready to let the drone go, flying it towards the direction of where the cabin was in a matter of a few moments, the only pause in the effort being from the drone having to start up. Steve was watching the viewing screen of the drone with intensity as it hovered over the trees, keeping an eye peeled as he followed the gravel road. The rest of the team was waiting around the SUV. Bucky leaned against the side, tapping his foot, trying to expel some of the pent-up adrenaline that everyone was garnering, knowing this needed to be executed without injury or incident.

The cabin was there at the end and Steve leaned forward in anticipation seeing the car.

“That looks like the car model,” Tony said over his earpiece. He was able to access the drone’s camera was well back at the facility. “Zoom in a bit to the license plate.” Steve did as he asked and Tony breathed, “Bingo.”

“Alright,” Steve said far more calmly than he felt. “That’s good enough for me.” He walked back towards the open back door of the SUV, walking up and placing the screen just inside. “The cabin is about half a mile away. Clint, stay here with the car and be ready to come up when we are ready to go. I don’t want Y/N to have to walk back down the driveway. Nat, Sam… you’re with me at the front. Buck, take the back of the cabin. Don’t shoot anyone unless I tell you to.”

“Taking the fun out of things,” Bucky halfheartedly joked.

<><><>

Stretching out on the bed, your toes curled. A sigh of contentment left your lips as your eyes opened, blinking away your sleep. When your vision focused, you saw the clock said it was almost 11:00am. You had managed to fall back asleep around 7:00am and you felt better now that you had gotten some more sleep. You could barely detect Yua and Natalie speaking in low tones, more than likely trying to avoid waking you up.

The serenity was shattered at the loud bang from on the first floor and you heard Yua scream in alarm. You sat up with difficulty just as the door from the balcony burst open. You jolted to the side, holding your stomach protectively.

Your heart rate slowed only for a moment upon recognizing the man who burst in was Bucky. When his cerulean eyes landed on you, gun pointed in your direction, your heart rate blew past normal, your breath quick.

“Bucky?” you got out in a gasp.

He relaxed ever so slightly, his eyes softening at the sight of you. His gun was no longer pointed at you, hanging at his side now. You did not miss the uptick of his lips, satisfaction flooding his face. But he still stayed on alert, ready to raise his weapon again if needed.

You sat up straight slowly, despite the commotion downstairs, keeping eye contact with him. Getting to your feet you tried to drown out the sounds of shouting downstairs, focusing only on him. His eyes flicked to your stomach, causing your hands to clench tighter around it and he made eye contact with you again.

“You can let me leave,” you said to him, your voice shaking.

Bucky’s laugh was humorless. “Y/N. Sweetheart, c’mon.” He was chastising you for even suggesting it with that tone.

“Buck?”

The sound of his voice rolling up the stairs made you freeze to the spot.

“I’ve got your doll in my scope. She looks good, Steve,” Bucky called back down towards the ground floor.

The sound of his foot on the bottom stair made you flinch. His footfalls were heavy, each step putting another nail in the coffin of your freedom. Your eyes flicked towards the open door and Bucky gave you a disappointed look, taking a step back towards it. He shook his head and you tore your eyes away from him, eyes fixated on the stairs.

He came into view quick, his height surpassing the staircase railing long before Yua or Natalie’s would. The same time elation flew through his features upon seeing you, you felt dread course through your veins. He was geared up, like he was going into a fight. Apparently, he did not underestimate the three of you.

Steve was a foot from you now, his gaze piercing and you were too afraid to take your eyes off him. There were a few moments of silence before he said quietly, “I admit, you have some loyal friends down there. They remind me of Buck.” You said nothing and he asked harshly now, “What did you think this was going to accomplish though, really, Y/N?”

You sucked in your bottom lip, unable to form a sentence in your frightened state about what he was there to do besides take you back.

“Answer me.”

Stammering, you said, “I… I just…” You were embarrassed he was shaking you up so bad. You had been in such a haze, hoping beyond reason that the three of you would eventually be able to settle down and it would blow over. The longer you had stayed away, the more the doubt it could work had been overshadowed by that terrible misleading feeling of hope.

Steve’s expression softened seeing you tripping over your words. He stepped closer and you instinctively stepped back. His lips formed into a thin line, stopping his advancement. “Y/N, doll, please. I want what is best for you. All I want is to take care of you. You worried me, doll. You worried me a lot. Do you know what it felt like to not know where you were? If you were safe? If the children were safe? Can you imagine how utterly upset you made me? How betrayed I felt when I realized you were gone? I leave to let you have a party with your friends, to give you space with them.” You almost flinched at the phrasing, like he had taken the words right out of your mouth. If he noticed, he did not show it. He continued on, “I leave a gift behind for you to find, something I built for you and the babies, and how do you repay me? You left. Without a word. Like I didn’t matter. Did you even see the gift?”

“No,” you whispered.

“Of course you didn’t. You didn’t care enough to look. You were only concerned with yourself. Out of everyone in the world, I didn’t think it would be you that would betray me like this. You told me you loved me.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as your eyes glistened with tears. He sounded deeply hurt, wounded. You could see it in his eyes.

“I can forgive you, Y/N. Trusting you is something else entirely. I don’t think that’s an option right now. But… I can forgive you. You just have to come back and be good.”

You averted your gaze, your chest tightening at his order.

Steve closed the space between you, and you did not move away this time. He hooked his fingers underneath your chin, tipping your head up. “It’s me…” Steve told you as his eyes hardened, and he warned gravely, “Or nobody.”

You did not have to imagine all the guns pointed at your friends downstairs. You either left with them both dead and back with Steve. Or left with them both alive and with Steve. Either way, he had you enveloped back to him. The degree of guilt is what you were choosing, that’s what he was giving you.

You were taking too long to answer.

Steve looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with Bucky. Bucky started walking towards the staircase where he could look down on the living room.

“Steve, don’t—” you choked out.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Good.”

You let out a strangled noise before you got out in between tears, “I won’t ever try to leave you again, I swear. I’ll stay home for you. I’ll take care of the twins. I’ll do what you ask, I’ll listen, like I promised. I’ll be happy.”

“Were you ever?” He asked coldly.

“I w-was,” you said shakily, nodding. Nodding to convince yourself, remind yourself that you had been. “I was, really.”

“And what changed that, hmm?”

“You… you locked me away in the house.”

His lips twitched at the accusation and you feared you had made a misstep, fearing for Yua and Natalie. He did not make a move though except to say, “And why did I do that?”

He wanted you to say what he believed. He wanted you to believe it too. The tears were fat rolling down your cheeks as you whispered, “Because… you wanted to keep me safe.”

“That’s right, doll,” Steve breathed easier, smiling. His fingers caressed your face. “That’s exactly what I was doing. And you pulling this little stunt proved my gut instinct was right, didn’t it? You need protection, especially from yourself. You are impulsive and don’t think about the long-term repercussions of your actions.” His hand came to rest on your abdomen, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, doll. I want you to just come home and let me take care of you. That’s what’s going to happen. Right?”

“Yes,” a voice that sounded like yours said; it was like you were outside your body. “Yes, I want that.”

“That’s what I thought,” Steve said, leaning forward and giving you a long kiss on your forehead.

“My friends?” you choked out.

Steve pulled away from you and smirked at you. “Hmm, maybe you can be concerned with more than yourself. Maybe I was too harsh there for a moment… what about your friends?”

“Please don’t hurt them. Please let them leave and go back home unharmed.”

He exhaled heavily and asked seriously, “And why should I do that?”

“Bucky would help you if you asked.” Bucky turned his head towards the pair of you and you tried to pretend like you did not notice his gaze. “It’s not their fault. I asked for help. It’s my fault. They shouldn’t be punished for my mistake. Please don’t make them pay for my behavior.”

Steve looked contemplative and you waited with bated breath, hoping he would react positively to your display of holding yourself liable. He wanted you to beg and you were giving it to him.

Over his shoulder, he finally ordered, “Let the ladies grab their things and get out of here. They’re safe… as long as Y/N continues to behave.” You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off by pressing a button on his earpiece. “Barton, we’re ready. Come on up.”

He grasped your arm and you tried to yank your arm away from him. He was far too strong and jolted you to him. “Don’t go messing this up now, Y/N. You were doing so well. Don’t make this harder for me than it has to be to get you in the damn car. You got what you wanted with your friends; you just need to uphold your side of the bargain.”

~~~

Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @roxyfan14-blog @mrsnegan25 @coconutqueen21

#steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark marvel #dark marvel fic #marvel fic #my shit

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bloodypapercut · 3 years

Text

despise (f.w. x reader)

this is my first fic! yayy! i hope all you angels enjoy. have a wonderful day or night and take care of your beautiful selves! :)

word count: 4.5k

I despised Fred Weasley. Upon this discovery, I always questioned the veracity of my feelings towards him. It was never in my nature to be hateful, if anything I was known for being kind, caring, and helpful. Perhaps at times, I could be a little aloof, but that was simply due to the fact that my mind was always elsewhere. Never in my life had I felt so strongly about someone, better yet hate someone so fervently. Oftentimes I would feel guilty for scoffing at every remark he made, or rolling my eyes when he would flash his infamous coquettish smile. I abhorred him, it’s not like I made the decision to by my own volition, I couldn’t help it. I’m aware of how this sounds, a typical loathsome teenager who hated the boy who has attention, the boy who has people falling at his feet, the boy with a lot of friends and a close family. It wasn’t that, no not at all. I had my reasons.

--------

I had never been more excited. I could barely keep the grin off my face as my legs swung back and forth, my heels hitting the seat. It was my first time being away from home, my desire to practice my independence as an 11-year-old was being fulfilled by the second. Looking out the window as the trees grew thicker and predictions of what the year could hold running through my mind a repulsive scent filled my cabin, thick smoke cloaked my vision and settled on my skin and robes. My violent coughs and labored breathing created a cacophony as the sound of hushed giggling and footsteps sounded from outside the door. My shaking hands made haste to dust off the soot, horrified of what others would think of me when I arrived at Hogwarts. A dirty and poor mudblood. I had expected the worst after hearing the stories my mother told me from working at the ministry, how could anyone disrespect someone I loved so dearly? The fear of being called out in such a hostile way and being looked down upon by potential friends caused my chest to tighten and sobs to violently rack my body. Not to mention the guilt I felt for getting my brand new robes dirty, especially knowing my mother worked extra shifts to get them.

Stepping out of the Hogwarts express I was met with a tall man, guiding me along with other students to the boats. The soot hadn’t disappeared completely but I had gotten as much as I could off. The boat ride was pleasant. I had acquainted with a girl named Luna along the way, she was an idiosyncratic girl but I appreciated her kindness and her curious comments about sea creatures. I felt relieved that someone was talking to me without judging me based on my appearance, but the sadness I felt about my dirty robes still lingered over me.

Looking up at the enchanted sky of the great hall I’ve never felt so enthralled by something. It was just as wonderful as my mom had described, I couldn’t wait to write to her all about it. But as I approached the front of the hall I felt dread put a weight around my ankles, I would have to stand up in front of everyone with my soiled robes. My uneasiness produced a scowl on my face and I could have sworn the familiar giggling was right behind me, but as I whipped my head around there was no one that seemed to be responsible for it.

“Now, when I call your names I will ask you to come forward, be seated on the stool, be sorted by the sorting hat, and after you will continue to your house table.”

I felt guilty that I wasn’t paying attention to my peers being sorted but my unease wracked at me, the ends of my sweater tangling between my fingers and the heel of my shoe being ground against the tiled floor.

“Y/N L/N”

Sighing I stepped forward, the giggles resonating once again making me stumble slightly. The lady at the front, whose name I had failed to remember, gave me a tight smile and waited for me to be seated. As the weight of the sorting hat pressed against my head I saw it. A trio of boys, 2 identical and one with dreads giggling, their soot covered hands coming up to their faces as they analyzed my robes. They must’ve felt my gaze because one of the twins and the boy with dreads stopped, but one continued, only laughing harder and looking right back at me. There, that was the moment I knew I would end up hating this ginger boy.

I had been so preoccupied with burning holes into his eyes that I had failed to recognize the incessant tapping on my shoulder and the dying cheers of the students sitting on a table at the far right of the room. Snapping my head towards the stern lady behind me. I hopped off the seat and rushed to the table that I assumed belonged to my house, which I didn’t know since I wasn’t listening. My face grew warm and my hands became sweaty with how tight my fists were clenched. I sat down quietly, never taking my eyes off that git.

That’s how he ruined my first highlight at Hogwarts.

--------

My second year was going just as I had planned. I had been practicing for Quidditch during the summer with my best mates Cho, Graham, and Julian (as Luna tried to befriend the gnomes, which didn’t end so pleasantly). I was convinced that I had improved greatly since my first chaotic flying lesson at Hogwarts. I was so sure of my skills, that I was unperturbed about trying out for my house team. That was a big mistake.

Going into compromising situations with nonchalance, knowing that the Weasley twins are in the same vicinity as you is a foolish, doltish mistake that anyone can be a victim to. I had been a victim to many of the playful endeavours during my first year and I thought that it was all over. Maybe they were mature now and knew when to stop. Thinking about it now makes me laugh, what a pretty lie I told myself.

It was the final cut for the team and I smiled as I gripped my broom, ignoring the splinter that found a place to reside in my thumb. The captain walked around smiling softly at all of us as she explained what the final tryout would entail. I clung to every word and as soon as she asked for a volunteer, my hand soared.

Tendrils of hair whipped around my face as I bolted to get the quaffle and shoot it into a hoop. I could hear words of praise from my friends on the ground and it only made me go a little faster, smiling as the quaffle passed by me. In an instant I spun my broom around, sending the ball flying to a hoop as the end struck it. I continued playing, doing tricks to show the captain I belonged on the team, I was so captured and focused that I didn’t notice the ball of fire that was in front of me, I also didn’t notice the screaming and shouts of warning from the ground but even when I did it was too late. Being faced with the fire ball it took me by surprise causing me to slip off my broom and fall a rough 20 feet from the sky.

The sound of a crack should have been the main sound that plagued my ears but it wasn’t, the pain radiating in my arm should have been enough for me to realize my arm could have been broken but it also wasn’t. At that moment I was verklempt because all I could hear was that notorious giggle and all I felt was a ferocious vindictive ball of anger swelling inside of me. In that moment I was certain that I deplored that Weasley boy.

“L/N are you okay??”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine let me just get back on my broom and finish my try out. Please, I really wanna make the team.”

“No! Are you mental? You can't! You have to go to Madam Pomfrey now.”

“No please let me finish, I have to make the team.”

“You’re on the team kid, you’re talented but for the love of Merlin please go your arm looks horrible.”

--------

The stems of the flowers felt smooth in my hand and the soft petals grazed my nose as I inhaled its scent. I had never been given this much attention by someone and I had to admit it felt good. Getting mysterious notes everyday, serendipitous boxes of sweets on my bed and something to giggle about with my friends. The only thing that was covert was who it was coming from. I knew how they felt about me, I knew they were in all my classes and I knew that he was a Hufflepuff. I felt excited coming to my dorm, anticipating a note on my bedside table or a flower on my pillow. It all seemed a little too good to be true, and a part of me nagged, telling me it was just another Weasley prank.

After reading copious articles about wolfsbane, due to Snape’s unreasonable wrath, my head felt numb. I dragged my feet to reach my common room and after answering the riddle I stepped through the entrance ready to fling myself onto the couch.

“Hey.” It was James Abernathy, my seat partner in potions and herbology, and he was in all my other classes. His presence confused me, he wasn’t permitted into this common room, he was a Hufflepuff. Upon this realization, a ball of excitement spun in my body. Could it possibly be him? He was the epitome of my dream guy, but with my history in Hogwarts my gut told me that this was too good to be true.

“...hi? What would you need?”

“Actually can I speak to you outside?”

“Uh..yeah? Sure I guess.” He nodded curtly and walked towards to exit, letting me trail behind him. Thoughts flooded quickly, leaving me in anticipation for what he would possibly have to say to me. The idea of it being him excited me, but he had a bit of a reputation. Not that I thought he was incapable of holding interest in someone for longer than a week, it just seemed unlikely that it would be me of all people.

“It’s me.”He chuckled softly and ran a hand through his hair, the veins being accentuated as he tugged at the ends lightly.

I remained silent, awfully confused and in disbelief.

“You?” He nods quickly. My head was spinning and I couldn’t pinpoint how I felt or how to react. How could it be collected, witty, dallying and charming James Abertnathy, has taken an interest in me? It was hard to believe, it was so unlikely that I just knew it was too good to be true. Someone like me never goes with someone like James, that’s just how it is. Despite that my judgement was clouded by excitement, never had anything so romantic occurred in my life, the thought of having someone like James as a partner was a dream I thought I deserved to live out.

“Wow, that’s lovely um..”

“So what do you say to a day at Hogsmeade?” The echo of his footsteps sounded as he drew nearer to hold my limp hands in his, running his thumb over my knuckles.

“She says no, more into redheads you see.” My neck could have snapped with the velocity at which my head turned. Of course, of course he had to be just around the corner. Of course he had to be hiding behind a pillar, probably running away from Filch after terrorizing an innocent student or professor. How could I be so blind, so naive? I couldn’t have anything good, because he existed. Looking up I was met with the smile that seemed to frequent his face, he waved comically as James huffed and walked away. I couldn’t help the quiver of my lip as I watched him revel in the joy he got from terrorizing me.

“W-why would you do that?” I couldn’t meet his eyes, but I could feel them on me. I couldn’t stand to look at him because I knew if I did I'd slap him so hard that even the lines on my hands would be imprinted on his face for weeks.

“Because he wanted 15 galleons and you wanted him, it would have never worked darling.” Fred was lying, I knew it. James was popular but not an absolute prick. He lost interest in people, he didn’t place bets on them.

“What are you on about? He..he wouldn’t.”

“Oh but he would, 15 galleons is one hell of a price.” He chortled, patting my head. I had gotten used to his belittling comments and I usually remained stoic, but it hurt hearing I was worth nothing more than 15 galleons, and hearing him confirm that just hurt even more.

“What did I ever do to you? Why do you hate me so much? Ever since I got here you’ve been nothing but hellish to me. I’ve done nothing to you, I’ve never even had a full conversation with you! Merlin, this is the most we’ve ever spoken so please, Fred, just tell me what it is I’ve done so I can apologize and you can bloody stay away from me.” My breath hitched, my hands shook and I felt disappointed in myself for losing my composure.

“Nothing! You’ve done nothing at all it’s just-” His continuous patting on my head had stopped and his hand rested on my shoulder, which I shrugged off immediately upon realizing its presence.

“What? Just what, what could I have possibly done for me to deserve this. Do you know that I have never written to my mother about a single good thing that has happened to me here, and you know why? It’s because of you! You selfish git!”

“Listen the only reason I did those things was because I wanted your attention.”

“And why on earth would you want that?”

“Isn’t it obvious I fancy you, like a lot?” He threw his head back lightly as he crossed his arms. His nonchalance was palpable, and I just knew that he thought he had won, he thought that I would suddenly change my demeanor and drop to my knees thanking Merlin he liked me. Unfortunately for him, he was dead wrong, sure he was attractive, very in fact but his personality made him the most repulsive and hideous human I could ever be faced with.

“Oh? Really? You’re going to pull that card? So you’re telling me the reason you were an insufferable twat for 3 years, was because you were too much of a coward to divulge your feelings? I find that very hard to believe, you’re practically known to be brazen without fail so why?”

“Because you’re you! You’re known to be indifferent, how would I ever get you to feel strongly about me in any way when you disregard everyone who tries to get close to you?”

“Well uh I don't know?! Maybe have a conversation with me? Ask me about my day? You could have done literally anything other than cause affliction on me for years. You ruined some of the best possible moments of my life, and I’m not going to let some sodding excuse of you liking me disregard that!”

“Love, please just lis-”

“I am not your love and I will not listen! What on earth did I expect from you? How could I be so stupid?! You’re right, you’re you and I’m me. And I know that I would never do anything to merit the havoc I’ve had to endure and I know that you’re only treating me like rubbish because you’re a bored little boy, who doesn’t ever get enough attention so you have to terrorize innocent people to fulfill some fantasy of achievement and success. A fantasy I know you will never achieve because you care about nothing but ruining the lives of others.”

He looked back at me vacantly, and for the first time, I knew that I had gotten the upper hand. In a way it felt good, it was like the revenge I’d been craving for years. Yet the other half of me knew it was wrong, to berate someone so zealously without listening to their side. I knew I had gone overboard and I knew the guilt would consume me later, but the memories of reading the first letter my mom had owled me fled in. The overwhelming guilt I had felt for asking her for new robes after the soot wouldn’t get out, the embarrassment of nearly missing the team from falling off my broom due to a fireball, and the insecurity I currently felt, after hearing that I’m worth only 15 galleons prevented me from holding back. I felt too much and had too little time to process it.

“Please just-”

“Fred, do you not understand what I’m saying? You’ve never failed to humiliate me and you’ve regarded me with nothing but disdain and contempt, I never said anything because I wanted to be polite but you know what? You don't deserve my patience or manners. You’ve never listened to anyone but your thick obdurate skull, but you know what you’re going to listen to me and you’re going to listen well. I HATE YOU! Now leave me alone.” I stormed off muttering the answer to the riddle once more and rushed to my dorm shutting the door and curling under my blanket. I could hear the footsteps of my roommate apprehensively approaching me. Her hand resting on my arm.

“Fred?”

“Fred.”

“Git.”

I felt nothing but guilt as I fell asleep that night. Fred was still human and though he was horrible to me, I could understand why he did those things, though they weren’t justified and I would personally never do it. Ron had told me before about how his brother was, how he really was a good person. Someone driven, thoughtful, kind, and creative. How he was a great older brother, especially to Ginny. I realized how hurtful my words were, and I regretted them immensely.

--------

Hermione and Ron never failed to put on a spectacle for everyone around them. Whether it be arguing about the definition of a word or how barbaric wizards chess is, they always disagreed. So it wasn’t a real surprise when I walked in the great hall for breakfast when I heard their strident bickering from halfway across the room. Walking closer to them, the words they threw at each other became distinguishable.

“‘Mione- no! Listen, you’re not listening I’m telling you he does he really does!!”

“You never fail to prove your fatuous way of thinking Ronald. I mean I would understand literally anyone else, I mean she’s all angel but not him. He’s absolutely horrible to her. Why would you think such a thing?” Deciding to be nosy and sit here instead of my house table I sat next to Harry, nudging his shoulder as he snickered.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He nodded, handed me a roll and pushed his cup of pumpkin juice towards me.

“Any idea what they’re on about?”

“An inkling.” He smirked.

“Not talking huh?”

“Mhmm. Just listen I’m sure you’ll find out.”

“He’s my brother, I know how he is around people he likes- loves. He’s an arse to us, yeah, it’s in his nature, but behind our backs he would do anything for us. He just doesn’t want us knowing.”

“Oh wow Ronald, you’re gonna compare his love for you to his ‘love’ for her? How ridiculous.”

“No-bloody hell no! Don’t twist my words, what I’m saying is I know what he’s trying to do. The amount of times he’s stood up for her behind her back, you’d think he’s her puppy. Do you know how many people he’s hexed and pranked for her. Remember he gave Flint boils for a month after he called her a mudblood after a match? Or when he beat up Mullard...and Nilesmith and- Merlin I could go on and on. C’mon, he’d never do that for someone he hated.”

“Okay fine maybe...since when did you care so much about the relationships of others?”

“She’s our best friend! And he’s a git that needs to be calmed down, but you know he never does so if we end this now it’ll be better for all of us.”

“Wow Ron, you’ve unlocked the capacity to sympathize with other humans.”

I knew it was about Fred, and I knew it was about me.

Swallowing the unchewed bite of bread in my mouth and gulping down the rest of Harry’s juice I rushed out of the great hall, not in the mood to be reminded of Fred. Not in the mood to process what I had just heard.

--------

The Triwizard Tournament. A time for friendship, unity and excitement. Ever since the Beauxbaton girls and Durmstrang boys came to Hogwarts the energy had been different. Something promising lingered in the air. Things truly felt different this year, and I’m sure they would be. There was so much to look forward to. New friends, the tournament itself and the Yule Ball. My excitement and joy for the new school year couldn’t be smothered, even by the fact that I had detention every evening for 2 weeks. I suppose reading in the restricted section after hours wasn’t the wisest thing, especially considering it wasn’t my first time getting caught. So here I was, using a brush no bigger than my pinky to polish cauldrons, the bristles getting thick and grimy from the remaining ingredients left in the dents of the cast iron. Humming to myself I let my thoughts wander to how exhilarating the ball will be, how fun it will be to dance with all of my friends, how pleasant it will be dressed up. Nothing could possibly spoil that not even Fred Weasley, I wouldn’t allow it.

It had been at least an hour, my hands were cramped and I was anticipating the completion of my 30 minutes left until I could rush to my dorm. I had finished cleaning and now I was left sitting here, vacantly twirling the brush with my fingers. The minutes couldn’t possibly go slower but as I heard the offbeat footsteps that I had grown accustomed to looking out for I knew that my night was going to be much longer than anticipated. Once I heard them I knew to evacuate, but being stuck in the trophy room I had no choice but to stay, Snape’s unreasonable derision wasn’t worth the fuss. The tiny brush I was forced to clean threatened to snap as my grip tightened. When the footsteps came to a halt, the unease in the room multiplied by 5. Without a word, there was the sound of shuffling, a drawer being opened and a brush being grabbed. It took 10 dreadful minutes for him to finally speak. As soon as the first syllable dripped from his mouth I couldn’t hold back a sigh, of relief or apprehension, I’m not sure.

“So what color are you wearing to the ball?”

“Sod off Weasley.” I grumbled, straightening my back. Another 10 minutes of silence followed.

“I’m sorry...I know I’ve been a foul, detestable and painfully foolish ass. I know that whatever I do it will never be enough to prove that I never had any bad intent behind my actions. I know you think I’m a no-good inconsiderate twat who doesn’t care about anyone, that I’m bound to fail and I deserve that. The things I’ve done to you are absolutely horrible. But Y/N please, please believe me, I never did any of that to harm you. Just please give me one chance, just one and I swear if I mess it up I will leave you alone forever.” I barely understood a word he said, it was so rapid but I clung onto everyone as best as I could.

“Why should I?”

“It’s selfish, to ask for so much after all I’ve done but I know that you’re the most intelligent, kind, resilient and beautiful person I’ve ever encountered. And my feelings towards you aren’t enough to ever justify what I’ve done. I know that I have ruined every year of your time here, but please please please give me one chance to make the rest of your years remarkable. To let you live out the highlights you deserve, so you can write to your mother about how much fun you had going to hogsmeade, or how amazing the Yule Ball was, or-”

“You’re asking me to the ball?”

“If you’ll have me.” My breath hitched and I let my brush drop, and for the first time since that night I had divulged my hatred for him, I looked him in the eye as I stepped closer. I remained silent and did nothing but look at him, every twitch of his eye, every rise and fall of his chest, I had to see it, I had to make sure this wasn’t some elaborate game that he wanted me to lose at. It must’ve been at least 5 minutes because his face dropped and his chest deflated, he turned to leave but before he could I ran in front of him. Nodding my head yes, I held his face, running my thumb over his freckled cheek.

“This is for Flint.” I whispered as I slowly neared his face, pressing a kiss to his forehead after brushing his hair to the side. His arm wrapped around my waist.

“Mullard.” Another to each of his temples.

“Nilesmith.” The tip of his nose.

“And every other person you stood up against for me, even after everything I said to you and even though I never knew about any of it.” The corner of his mouth. His eyelashes flutter against my cheek.

“And this is for taking me to the ball.” I looked into his eyes, searching for confirmation that it was alright to continue, he squeezed my wrist in confirmation. It was warm and sweet, safe and pure. It was filled with passion, all the things we have yet to admit to the other was translated into this moment. I wanted him to feel the admiration I had for his confidence to stand up for the ones he loved to whoever defied them, every freckle on his face, every laugh that would emerge from the back of his throat, the calluses on his hands, the determination in his heart, the respect and love he had for everyone, hidden behind all of his playful antics. We pulled apart, laughing softly and refusing to let go of each other. Our foreheads pressed together and we hugged tightly, our arms refusing to release the other. I had never felt so warm, so elated, so appreciated. It was odd, especially coming from him, but I accepted it. I had never accepted any feelings towards Fred that were positive, but now I let them in freely without shame or denial.

“I can’t believe I used to despise you.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #harry potter

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hoodoo12 · 3 years

Text

The Ties That Bind (And How To Follow Them) 1/?

Heave ho, here we go!

@werwulfy @rainingpaint @bunnys-beetlejuice-blog @mel-time @heresathreebee @sweetcat-666 @turtlepated @infptarius

Pate was dreaming, and this time she knew it.

For weeks she had been checking her reflection in mirrors, examining her hands to make sure they were normal, asking herself while awake “Am I dreaming?”, all in preparation for when she was actually dreaming.

“I am dreaming,” she told herself matter-of-factly.

In the months since her encounters with the demons Beetlejuice and his brother Rigel, Pate had apparently had many, deeply unpleasant dreams from what Beetlejuice told her afterwards; moaning and tossing in her sleep, desperate to escape something. She never remembered when she woke, which might be a blessing but was mostly annoying.

Now she had developed the ability to take control.

“I am dreaming,” she repeated to herself in the same, flat tone.

She looked around herself to see where she was. In her mind’s eye, she was standing amidst the hazy impression of a coniferous forest, the sky overhead gray like it was threatening rain. The road she stood on (and she felt sure it was a road, it was hard underfoot) was a rainbow of colors all splotched and running together like an impressionist painting.

Everything was slightly fuzzy around the edges, as though it was all out of focus and if she could just tune in her mental binoculars she could see it clearly. But already the dream was beginning to unravel and she felt herself waking up. She opened her eyes, finding herself reclining on a squashy pleather couch where she’d lain down to fall asleep. With a sigh, she sat up.

“Did you see anything?” asked the older woman sitting in a worn wingback chair across from her. Pate nodded and relayed the muddled details of the rainbow road in the watercolor woods. “Don’t forget to write it down,” she advised. Pate had begun keeping a dream journal for the purposes of trying to remember as much as she could from her dreams, carrying it with her to add details if and when they came back to her.

“It’s been the same pieces and fragments for weeks now,” Pate griped. “And I don’t know what any of it means.”

“You will,” assured her mentor, shrugging absently. “Or you won’t. It might not mean anything. The important thing is learning how to take control of what’s inside your head.” Pate grumbled, her face in her hands, but privately acknowledged that maybe the other woman had a point.

It was sheer happenstance, or maybe fate, that had brought Pate into Lillian Borden’s second-hand shop. She liked antique stores and sometimes used goods stores had interesting or rare finds. Pate had probably passed the shop a hundred times without ever going in, but Mrs. Borden had recognized something in her from the moment they met. Whatever Pate had, Lillian Borden had it, too.

At Beetlejuice’s urging, Pate had asked Mrs. Borden to teach her how to manage her . . . whatever it was she was having. Psychic episodes? Recurring nightmares? Visions? Either way, his concern had prodded her to seek outside help and Lillian had agreed to do what she could.

“Try to go back to it,” Lillian was saying. “See if you can make anything else out.”

With a sigh Pate shut her eyes and willed her mind to revisit her dream. It was overcast but not raining, and as she focused the irregular splotches of color on the rainbow road became brighter, the details of the surrounding woods more defined. They were definitely cone bearing trees.

The beginnings of a headache were making their appearance behind her eyes and in her temples and Pate checked the time. They’d been in the back room of Lillian’s shop for over an hour, and she still had to do something about dinner and get ready for work tomorrow.

“I guess we’d better call it a night,” she said.

Lillian hummed noncommittally, then said, “You burn that sage I gave you?”

Pate hesitated, only for the briefest second because, no, she hadn’t used the smudging tools. “Yeah,” she lied, hoping it was more convincing than it felt. Lillian’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she didn’t believe her.

“There’s a presence around you, girl,” she said. “A dark presence, a powerful presence. The smart thing to do would be to get rid of it.” Pate nodded her understanding, but immediately dismissed the idea.

There was only one dark, powerful presence she knew of that would be around her, and she had no intention of sending him away. In fact, he would be waiting on her to come home.

⁂

Puttering around Pate’s apartment, Beetlejuice couldn’t find a thing to do. He’d already read ad nauseum the graphic novels Pate had gotten from the library for him. She’d expressly forbidden him to shove any dirty kitchen towels back into the drawer he found them in; he was permitted to use them--her nose had wrinkled at the word “used”--but if one was “used”, she made him promise to wash it. The birds on the birdfeeder were just dumb sparrows and starlings, nothing fun like crows or vultures. He had the brilliant idea to put scraps of meat out to attract them which worked to draw in the acceptable alternative of raccoons, until Pate got a letter from the landlord that made her yell because it threatened eviction, so raw meat outside was even less allowed than using the towels to wipe his junk and putting them back where they belonged.

Seeming to realize that a bored Beetlejuice was a potentially destructive one, she did concede to purchase the streaming Disney channel. He spent some of the time she was gone flipping from The Muppet Show and documentaries about animals. He promised not to watch WandaVision without her. Sometimes she allowed him to go to work with her, if she knew no one else would be there. During her visits to Lillian’s, however, he was not invited. “I have to concentrate,” she told him, “and you hanging around distracts me.” She didn’t say it, but one time he’d chased a pesky minor poltergeist out of a chest of drawers in the older woman’s antique shop. It caused a racket and broke the drawers, and he knew that was more likely the reason he wasn’t to go back. He lazed around and watched TV and practiced card tricks in front of her mirror. He didn’t need to practice card tricks; he had his own sleight of hand better than any stage magician, but it gave him something to do to fill the time. Like a dog, he was tuned to when Pate returned. In a quick movement he made the deck he was holding disappear faster than humanly possible, and was beside the door waiting for her to open it the next second. Tonight was taco night! He took the bags of food the moment she was in the door. It was a move more greedy than gracious, but she didn’t seem to mind because she asked him how his day was and told him not to eat the raw ingredients in the same breath as she hung up her jacket. The specter waited for her to come into the kitchen before hugging her. “You look tired, baby,” he announced, eyeing her critically. “Are you sure Lillian is helping you? It seems like she’s just making everything worse.” He wanted Pate well and whole, but wasn’t pleased that although Pate had faith in this woman, it didn’t seem to be doing much good. He had to admit, however, that nothing he’d done had been able to help alleviate her nightmares either.

⁂

Having never had a live-in partner before, Pate had never given much thought to what it would be like to actually have someone waiting for her at home. But she found that she liked it. For the most part, anyway.

Despite the few hiccups like the incident with the racoons and the time he’d ruined her good skillet melting marbles in it on the stovetop, they had a pretty good thing going she thought. The way he always appeared at the door the second she walked in, like an overlarge, excitable, slightly moldy golden retriever never failed to make her smile. Tonight was no exception.

Pate gratefully allowed him to take her bags through to the kitchen while she deposited her keys and purse and jacket in their usual spots, following him and sighing contentedly as he wrapped her in his arms. She smiled against his chest, wishing she could simply live there and not have to worry about work or training or anything else. At his proclamation, she drew back enough to look him in the eye, smiling wanly.

“I kinda am tired, Beej,” she admitted. It had been some time since she’d gotten a decent night’s sleep, the dreams and nightmares taking turns with a general sense of unease and restlessness that kept her awake.

“The dreams may not be getting better, but she’s helped me enough that I can remember them when I wake up. Maybe that’s the key to figuring out what they’re all about. And if I keep practicing the lucid dreaming thing, maybe I could even stop them myself.”

Raising herself on tip-toe to press a quick peck on his lips, Pate then set his destructive proclivities to chopping up the tomatoes and jalapenos and other toppings while she browned and seasoned the meat for their tacos. It filled her with a cozy, domestic feeling as Beetlejuice jabbered absently about whatever had come into his head, interspersed with the ambiance of sizzling hamburger and the clacking of the knife against the cutting board.

She considered telling him about Lillian’s insistence that she cleanse her apartment and dismiss him, but she had a good idea how he’d respond to that and didn’t want to upset him. Besides, if she had anything to say about it he wasn’t going anywhere he didn’t want to. He was here because they both wanted him to be, and that was the end of it.

Instead she removed the pan from the burner, turned off the eye and moved to stand beside him at the island and the heaps of thoroughly massacred vegetables. “What’re we watching tonight?” she asked, opening the taco shells and arranging them on the plates.

⁂

She made him use a knife--knife tricks! He should practice knife tricks!--on the tomatoes since on the first taco night he’d simply crushed them to pulp, but she did say it was okay to rip the lettuce with his hands. Beej did that with relish, managing to fling bits into the air. Like he was imparting a secret, he told Pate that they recorded the noise of breaking lettuce and celery to substitute for bones breaking in movies.

Pate reminded him he told her that every time they had tacos, but softened her chiding with a kiss.

There was a Nicolas Cage movie he was interested in seeing, Color Out of Space, but maybe that wasn’t Pate’s idea of a good time. It was Friday, so the decision was easy: what was with the recasting of Pietro? Did it mean there was finally going to be a connection between the X-men and the Avengers? They settled on the couch to catch up on the latest episode of WandaVision. For the entirety of the show, with the exception of once or twice having to rewind because it was hard to hear over the crunch of the taco shells, they ate without interruptions. Once it was over, the dishes had been cleared, and Pate changed into pajamas, Beetlejuice escorted her back to the couch. Sometimes she had emails to answer from work or simple tasks to complete from Lillian, but tonight she seemed more tired than normal, so he held her while she told him about her day. She said something about wanting to . . . Beetlejuice waited a moment for the rest of the sentence, but Pate had dozed off without completing it. Despite what they’d been through, he still marveled at how easily she gave her trust to someone like him. It would be easy enough to get her into her bed, but he liked being her pillow, so he pulled a blanket from the back of the couch over them, and turned that Nic Cage movie on low to watch it while she slept. Maybe it was the different location, maybe it was because she had just had a lesson with Lillian--maybe it was Nic Cage!--but Pate didn’t stir while they were on the couch. Smiling and hopeful that maybe her nighttime dreams were getting under control, Beetlejuice carried her to bed. It was in the darkest part of the night that she kicked and cried out against him, lost in her head. ⁂

Pate sat bolt upright with a gasp, chest heaving and heart racing. After taking a moment to orient herself, she buried her face in her hands. The same dream, the same tantalizing images, the same mounting sense of dread that grew worse and worse as the dream wore on, pressing between her shoulder blades and against her breastbone, constricting her chest.

The scenes flashes behind her eyelids again: standing on the rainbow road in the middle of the misty forest; the strange red brick tower that stood like a transplanted European castle turret on top of a hill; the sound of rushing water; and standing the in center of a round room with no roof, the starry sky overhead, surrounded by figures that all looked exactly like her.

And the overwhelming notion that something was coming, something unfathomable and indescribable, something powerful and ravenous, drawing closer and closer.

Sighing into her fingers, Pate dropped her hands, sure that she must’ve roused Beej from his restive state, but before she could turn to him another figure appeared in her periphery. Standing by the side of the bed was a strange woman, tumbles of auburn waves falling over her shoulders, her eyes glinting like a cat’s in the darkness.

“Hello, dear,” she purred at Pate, a friendly yet unsettling smile on her pretty heart-shaped face. “You have something I want.”

Without taking her eyes off the intruder, Pate fumbled behind her for Beetlejuice, to wake him, to warn him, but her hand found only empty air. Jolted by this realization, Pate turned to find his place in the bed vacant. Jerking back around to face the smiling woman with her strange eyes, panic surged through Pate’s chest and propelled her heart into her throat.

“Where is he?” she demanded, somehow knowing the woman was responsible for her vanished demon lover.

“Where he belongs,” the woman responded, her smile widening into a predatory grin that froze Pate’s blood in her veins. The terrible foreboding she felt quickly grew into abject terror that she would never see him again.

Then, blessedly, her eyes snapped open to find herself wrapped in Beetlejuice’s arms as he cooed and whispered into her hair that everything was okay, she was just dreaming. Shaking, she clung to him to assure herself that he really was there, feeling the wetness of tears on her cheeks.

“You were gone!” she croaked against him. “There was this woman, her eyes were wrong and she took you!”

She said this with the certainty that comes with dreams, where you simply know something to be true. That certainty told her that something, be it the strange red-haired woman with the glowing eyes or the unknowable presence that stalked ever nearer in her nightmares, was going to try and take him from her. She couldn’t let that happen, wouldn’t let it happen.

⁂

His lover’s abrupt startle awake after twisting and turning and being unable to be roused made him feel worse. What use was he if he couldn’t help her? During her struggles he held her as best he could and soothed her, even though he wasn’t sure Pate even heard him. The tears weren’t uncommon, but specifics about what her mind conjured up were. Beej brushed it off as simple lingering fear, and assured her he wasn’t going anywhere and there was no woman. A weak joke that if she wanted to invite another woman in he wouldn’t object was summarily chewed up and spit out by the rational portion of his brain, the one that had a slightly better understanding of what may and may not be appropriate. It was small, but getting larger. It also nixed allowing him to say, “I guess Nic Cage isn’t the answer.” So he continued to whisper to her and let her cling to him, and because she’d requested it before, asked open-ended questions to help her try and recall as much of the dream as possible. He didn’t understand why that seemed to be important to her mentor, but it was easy and maybe if Pate talked through it, she’d be less frightened.

Mostly he hoped she would just be able to go back to sleep, and vowed to let her stay in bed as long as she would like the next morning.

tbc . . .

#writing #fanfiction #Beetlejuice #Ties that Bind

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whumpasaurus101 · 3 years

Text

19th April, Plant Day!

I cannot tell you how tempted I was to write abt fungi but I didn’t want @brutal-nemesis to kill me :) so I can safely say that there is no fungi do not worry :D

Cw: plant whump / ‘stabbing’ sort of / deep cuts / caretaking after / fluff / angst / my gaey boys not having a good time tbh / Alicia being a bitch as usual /

Asher wasn’t happy. He was in Alicia’s house and Jack was right at her feet, kneeling. She raked her hands through his hair. Aaher looked at her in disgust from where he knelt, far away from them both. Why did Rodger have to leave him with this bitch? He would have prefered anyone, anyone over her. Jesus, he’d rather stick a fork in his own fucking eye than be here.

“Anyways,” Alicia sighed, “I want to go to the garden centre to revamp this house and whatnot and the two of you can come if you behave, Asher, I’m looking straight at you. Think of all the fun you could have if you don't throw a fucking tantrum, huh? I’ll even let you two go off for a bit if you're good. But keep in mind, I throw knives like a fucking champ so if one of you decides to try and run, you’ll get a knife in your fucking neck, understood?”

The garden centre was huge, Asher’s eyes lit up as he saw the building. And then there were people, normal people, not sick psychos! Couples, families, you name it! A sudden yank ripped Asher from his thoughts as Alicia pulled back on his top. He stumbled back and Alicia spoke in his ear, “Listen up big boy, you make one single sound to any other people and I will fucking kill you, got it?” Asher quickly nodded, scared to speak.

She forced a smile, “Good, now, let’s not waste any time!” The three walked into the centre, Asher standing in between the pair as he was least trusted. Alicia had her handbag rested against her forearm as she strode in.

There were plants everywhere. Some crawled up the wall, some hung from the ceiling and some were neatly potted and shelved. Asher, completely lost in his thoughts, didn't realise how fast he was walking until Alicia yanked him back, “What the fuck did I just tell you?!” Asher lowered his head, “Sorry.”

Both Jack and Asher followed Alicia obediently as she strolled around the store. Eventually, she had had enough. “Alright, alright! You're starting to piss me off! Just- just- ugh, just go -and stick together. But I swear that if either one of you tries something funny, I will slit both of your throats. Asher looked to Jack who smiled at him. He followed him to the outside area as they held hands in front of them so Alicia couldn't see.

Jack pulled Asher into a corner that was hidden by trees and kissed him gently, wrapping his arms around his waist. Asher chuckled, “Nothing funny, huh?” Jack smiled, “Fine, we can just stop you know, look at these… trees?” Asher chortled, snorting slightly at the end. He traced his hand against Jack’s cheek and jaw, rubbing it slightly, feeling the short stubble.

He brought Jack’s face closer and pecked him on the nose. Jack brought Asher’s hips closer, they kissed again as Jack raked his hands through Asher’s hazelnut hair. “What. the. Fuck?” They both pulled away with a jolt.

Alicia stood there, gobsmacked, “I-you.” She couldn’t form any other words than, “What the fuck.” Asher couldn’t breathe, “Pl-please don’t tell Rodger!! Please!!” That’s when Alicia smiled and chuckled, looking at Jack, “So you’re into Asher, huh? You like the ‘bad boys’?” Jack gulped, blinking fast, “Alicia, please! I-”

Alicia slapped him hard across the face, “I asked you a fucking question!” Jack whimpered. Asher looked in shock, finding himself frozen in shock. “Yes! Okay! I love him, I mean, what is there not to love about him? He’s perfect! He’s brave and he’s handsome. He’s there for me when I need him and he makes me happy every fucking day!”

Asher felt his cheeks flush a deep red. Alicia looked at him blankly, “How sweet. But you know this is simply just not allowed.” The two boys gulped. “Alicia plea-”

“Shut up!!” Asher flinched as she took a step towards him, caressing her sharp nails scraping against his cheek, “Now, now Asher, you know he’s way out of your league!” She cackled, “I mean, what’s the fucking age gap?” Asher clenched his jaw. Her thumb’s nail slightly pressing into his cheek as he let out a yelp.

“Alicia,” Jack raised his voice. Alicia turned to him, nails still digging into Asher’s skin. “Please, he didn’t-”

“You know what?” Alicia sneered, “I don’t think you understand. You are mine and Asher is Rodger’s. You are not permitted to even touch him.” Her grip tightened as blood now ran from Asher’s cut.

“I know, I know, Alicia, please, don’t do this, it was all my fault! I started this! He still doesn’t understand the rules!” Alicia sighed, yanking her hand away, making the cut bigger. “No, he doesn’t, but he will.”

Asher had no clue what she meant until an hour later when he was tied to a chair in Alicia’s kitchen. Alicia circled him, shopping bag in hand. “Have you ever heard of a honey locust?” Asher just glared at her in response, dried blood stuck to his cheek form earlier. “No?” She hummed, taking out what looked like branches of a tree. “Hmmm, well, I was going to give these to Rodger to use them on you, but I guess I can just get more and use these bad boys now!!”

Jack pulled at his cuffs which kept his hands right at the fridge’s handle, “Alicia I-“

“SHUT UP!!!!” Both boys flinched at how loud Alicia was. “Stop sticking up for your bitch all the time! You are mine and he is Rodger’s. And the bast way for you to understand things is to hurt people that you love.”

And with that, she got a thorn and quickly moved it down Asher’s collarbone, leaving a dark red line which blood fell from. Asher let out a howl of pain. His restraints left him unable to double over and protect himself.

Alicia snickered, “Oof, that’s a deep one. Oops?” She did the same thing on the exact another side. This continued until deep gashes covered his abdomen.

When she got bored, she picked up the thorns one by one, piling them into her hand. She dropped the branch and grinned at Jack. She approached a trembling Asher and traced one of the sharp thorns all across and down Asher’s arm, causing goosebumps to rise on his skin.

Without warning, she quickly stabbed a thorn straight into his arm. He yelled, he couldn’t take all of this pain. “P-please, no more! I- AGH!” He was interrupted when she poked another one right under the previous thorn. He felt his vision starting to blur.

Alicia, noticing he was starting to blackout, decided it was enough, for now. “Oh what now? No ‘smart comments’? You see, after a while, I do start to miss them. Its quite satisfying to be honest! You know, Rodger being unable to control his mutt while Jack just sits right at my side like a good bitch.”

Asher saw Jack flinch through his blurred vision. Jack had never heard Alicia call him that. It was always Rodger who did, never Alicia. Did she prefer Asher? No, no, she couldn’t! She loved Jack… right? He looked to the two, Alicia was running a hand through Asher’s hair with a smile as the other’s head lolled to the side as he slowly drifted out of it.

---

Jack was allowed to clean Asher’s wounds. He had a tweezers and was trying to pluck the thorns out from Asher’s delicate skin. Asher let out painful moans as he rocked back and forward. Jack blinked away his tears, “Ash- Asher please, I need you to stay still.” Asher did but once the tweezers were back on the last thorn, he flinched. Jack rolled his eyes, “ASHER! I NEED YOU TO FUCKING-” He froze the minute Asher’ tear-stained face and puffy eyes turned to him. He looked as if he was about to absolutely ball crying.

“Asher, oh my god, Asher, I am so sorry!” Asher blinked and the tears followed. They streamed down his cheeks as his chest rose and fell fast. He whimpered and bit his lip to stop himself from sobbing. “Asher, please I- I didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry!!”

Asher sniffed and blinked rapidly, “ ‘s alright, y-you didnt m-mean to.” Jack’s heart felt heavy but he had to keep cleaning the wounds before Alicia would come in and make some snarky comments. “This is going to sting- wait, I might have some pain killer I can give you, mkay?”

Asher nodded weakly. “Alright, give me a second.” He got up out of the empty bath they sat in and walked to the bathroom cabinet. He scanned through the shelves and his eyes landed on one of the orange containers.

He opened it up and poured two pills into his palm. He then got a glass and filled it with water, knowing the water from the bathroom probably wasn’t the best but it was better to get rid of all of the pain Asher was in already.

He handed Asher the pills and glass. Asher looked at him, waiting for a nod of approval before putting the pills in his mouth and washing them down with the water. “Th-thank you” His voice was hoarse. Jack wiped tears of his own and sat back behind Asher.

Asher’s flinches were less violent. Jack smiled, knowing that his love was in less pain. No- no, not his. Rodger’s. The heaviness settled in his heart once more. Surely there was some way of keeping Asher. Keeping? What the hell was wrong with him?! Maybe he didn’t deserve Asher. Maybe it was for the best.

He looked down as he felt Asher’s back press against him. He was asleep. His adorable face looked so peaceful. His eyes were closed and he wasn’t in pain. His angry face was relaxed and the usual crease in his eyebrows was gone.

Jack gently traced his cheek with his finger. His scar had been reopened and looked painful. After a few moments of peace, Alicia burst through the door, “Jesus fucking Christ, you cant keep your hands off him, can you? After what he went through because of you!” Jack’s head snapped up to her, “Alicia, please, let him sleep, he never sleeps! Please, I’ll do anything!” Alicia fake smiled at him for a moment before shoving her arms under Asher’s arms and dragging him out of the bathtub. Asher let out a yell of shock as he was brought out of his sweet peaceful dreams back to this phscho bitch.

“Alicia, leave him, alone, please!” Alicia just giggled in excitement, “No way, this is a fun thing to play with. You two think you're so in love. But none of you knows what love is!” Asher hung his head in shame and embarrassment. Jack noticed, he knew that Asher had absolutely no memories of his childhood, he didn't know what love was. Jack felt terrible.

Alicia looked between the pair with a shit-eating grin, “Well, you guys must be tired! Asher, you can sleep on the floor in the kitchen. Jack, you're sleeping in with me!” Jack knew better than to refuse. Asher was dragged out of the room and Jack was left sitting in the bathtub, waiting for Alicia to come and show him who he really belonged to.

—-

Taglist:

@as-a-matter-of-whump @yesthisiswhump @appy-polly-loggies @jordanstrophe @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @likeit-or-whumpit @milk-carton-offical

#whump #whump story #plant whump #plant day #I’m sorry for this #heh #the Gaey boys #are not having a good time I’ll be honest #Asher #jack #Alicia #plants #no fungi #:)#not this time #asher #whump drabble #drabble

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mldrgrl · 3 years

Text

Broken Things 8/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

Mulder helps his wife into the wagon. Wife! Yesterday he was a bachelor, today he’s somebody’s husband and she is his wife. Incredible.

“On to the Byers,” he says, coaxing the horses into a trot. “And then, home.”

“Yes.” She’s reading the marriage certificate when he glances at her.

Susannah Byers is thrilled when she hears about the marriage. She wants to give them a party, but both Mulder and Katherine politely decline. Mulder can tell that Katherine is not one to bring attention to herself and he can’t say he enjoys it either.

“What about a nice Sunday dinner after services when the circuit preacher comes around?”

Katherine looks to Mulder and he nods. “That sounds quite nice,” he says. “Even if I can’t be to church, I’ll see to it that Katherine will be there.”

“We’ll get you into a church one day, Mulder, you’ll see.”

“I don’t know, Susannah, I think being a heathen suits me just fine.”

Susannah laughs and then slips her arm through Katherine’s. “Let’s go get your things together and gossip about these menfolk.”

“So, you went and did it,” John Byers says, as soon as Susannah and Katherine are gone.

“Yes, I’ve officially joined the married men’s club.” Mulder spots the row of tinned fruits on the shelves behind John’s shoulder and has a moment of inspiration. “John, I’ll take one of those tinned peaches and a few of your pickled eggs.”

John hops to attention like the perfect store manager that he is as Mulder rattles off some additional items. A tin of crackers, a hunk of cheese, some bread, two bottles of sarsaparilla, a bag of licorice, a dozen apples, and a few scoops of raisins. While John gathers everything together, Mulder pulls down a squat basket from one of the top shelves to put everything in. He adds a new set of cutlery as well and covers everything with some linen napkins.

“Tell the ladies I’m out by the wagon,” he tells John after he pays him, and then takes the basket out to try to tuck it away unnoticed.

When Katherine comes out with the valise, Susannah is beside her with some wrapped packages. Mulder takes everything and loads it into the back of the wagon. The sun is getting to be high and mighty. He leaves the ladies chatting and saying their goodbyes and runs back into the store. It only takes a couple seconds for him to grab the first straw hat he sees and plunks it down on the counter.

“I assume this is for the new bride?” John asks.

“That’s right.”

“Then you’ll be wanting a ladies’ hat, not a boater.” John shakes his head and points to the women’s hats behind him, ones that tie on with ribbons and have sprigs of flowers at one side.

“This one,” Mulder says, grabbing a wider-brimmed hat, much less stiff than the one he’d initially selected, with a pink ribbon and baby’s breath.

“Good luck with everything.”

“Thank you.”

Mulder hands the hat to Katherine when he comes out of the store and she gives him a puzzled look.

“Getting on to be high noon,” Mulder says, pointing up at the clear sky. “The hat will keep the sun out of your eyes and protect you from getting burned.”

“Oh. Thank you.” She places it on her head lightly and then ties a neat bow under her chin with the ribbons.

“Susannah, I thank you for allowing Katherine to stay with you last night.”

“Anytime, anytime! I was just telling her to come back as often as she likes and maybe we can plan a tea with some of the other ladies that come in for church. There’s only the Sheriff’s wife and Arlene Skinner in town, but she’s not terribly social.”

“Didn’t even know Mr. Skinner was married,” Mulder answers. “We only just met Monica Doggett today.”

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer. You come back and see me real soon, alright?”

“Thank you,” Katherine tells Susannah and gives her a quick embrace.

As though they’ve done this a thousand times over and without even thinking about it, Katherine blindly gives her hand to Mulder and he rubs his thumb over her knuckles as he waits for her to gather her skirts up so she doesn’t trip on the step up to the wagon.

↭

Katherine quickly learns that Mulder is a man of many surprises. She can see that his spontaneity is going to keep her on her toes. When they’re about half-way to home, he stops the wagon where there’s a nice shady canopy of trees for the horses and produces a basket of food he had hidden in the wagon.

“Thought it might be nice to stop for a picnic,” he says.

“I don’t think I’ve been on a picnic since I was a little girl.”

“Wait just one minute, I’ve got a blanket back here I’ll lay out. You’ll have to excuse the bits of hay, but at least your dress won’t get dirtied.”

She helps him lay out the blanket beneath an oak tree that looks like it was planted at the beginning of time it’s so large. He kneels to unpack the basket and she sits down and tucks her legs to the side. There doesn’t seem to be anything in the basket that he hasn’t thought of. When he has it emptied he hangs his hat on the handle and pushes his hair back with one hand.

“I realize I don’t actually know if you like peaches,” he says. “Maybe I should’ve gotten apricots.”

“I like peaches.”

“Oh, good.” He opens the tin with a pocket knife and gives her the first pick.

“Thank you.”

“Whatever you’d like from this spread, don’t be shy.” He cuts off a bit of cheese and bread and then lays back onto one elbow and smiles at her.

The way he looks at her makes her feel shy and she has to look away for a moment, but the pull of his gaze is too strong and it stirs something in her that she’s never felt before. It’s akin to fear, but if she’s in danger, she doesn’t feel like running away from it, she feels like running towards it.

“You may just have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen,” he says. “I think the sky might be jealous.”

Compliments make her terribly uncomfortable and she’s glad for the hat that can shield him from the color in her cheeks. “I’d like to confess something,” she says, plucking absently at a loose thread on her skirt.

“Is this where you tell me you can’t cook?” He chuckles at his own joke.

“I can cook well enough.”

“Whew.”

“When I told you my maiden name was O’Brien, I wasn’t telling the truth. It’s my mother’s maiden name. Mine is Scully.”

“Scully. I like that. It suits you somehow. But, why did you say it was O’Brien?”

“I don’t know. I guess I felt scared in a way. Of you knowing me too quickly. You lied to me too, though.”

“No, my name has always been Mulder.”

“Jack never paid a single cent on that land. You did.”

“Did Skinner tell you that?”

“No, he told me that Jack paid the mortgage on time, the first of every month. That was simply impossible. Even if he had won enough in a poker game. Why did you want me to believe that he had?”

Mulder sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I got to thinking that maybe my offer had been a little unfair when you had no real alternatives. I guess, selfishly, there was a part of me that didn’t want to think you’d marry me for that reason alone. But, also, I thought I might try to give you one good thing to remember about your late husband.”

“You don’t know what my memories are.”

“No, but I do know they aren’t fond.”

She frowns and her voice comes out a little more forceful and louder than she’d like, but he’s touched a nerve. “I won’t ever think fondly of Jack Willis and there isn’t a thing you can do about that,” she barks.

Mulder whistles low and then smiles. “And though she be but little, she is fierce. Remind me, fair Kate, never to get on your bad side.”

She’s embarrassed by her outburst, but more surprised that Mulder doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by it, or concerned. He’s rather amused. He just keeps smiling at her to the point where she has to drop her chin or she may end up smiling back.

“If I may be so bold,” Mulder says. “Why did you marry Jack? Was there ever a time you liked him even a little?”

“I married him because my father arranged it. Maybe there was a time when I liked him. If there was though, I’ve forgotten it. And if it’s alright with you, I’d rather not have to think about him right now.”

“Of course.”

“I apologize for losing my temper earlier.”

“Why should you be sorry if that’s the way you feel? I promise I will make it my life’s mission not to arouse your temper, but you should know I am famously myopic when it comes to thinking before I speak or act.”

“As long as you’re not violent,” she whispers, her eyes downcast.

He reaches out and touches her cheek for a moment. “No, I am not violent. You have my word on that.”

She nods a little. She knows she’s been temperamental and melancholy and has ruined the picnic that Mulder has set up. She tries to think of a way to salvage the day and this nice thing that he’s done for her.

“You know what I was thinking?” he asks suddenly. “We’re going to have to make sure you have more lessons with the carriage.”

“Why?”

“Getting into town, going to church, having ladies’ teas and those other mysterious things women do when they get together. You’ll need a way to get to and from.”

“Oh. I don’t need to go unless you’d like to take me. You don’t have to go to any trouble.”

“Well, Melvin’s going to need something to do since you’ll be displacing him as the resident cook. He’ll be showing you the ropes anyway, and he’s a much better teacher than I am.”

“You would permit me to go into town on my own?”

“Permit you?” He raises his brows a bit. “Do you know what my aunt once told me about marriage?”

“No.”

“She said that it’d be best to remember that women have their own minds and their own interests and if I thought that marriage would change that, I should go on and be a bachelor for the rest of my days.”

She doesn’t quite know what to do with this piece of information. Her mother had always told her that marriage is doing as your husband bids and raising his children. No more. As a woman, she has been trained to believe that it is her place to move from her father’s rule to her husband’s. And now, here is a man, her new husband, a complete stranger whom she tethered herself to more willingly than her last, offering her a kind of freedom she’s never had but always longed for. Four years ago she had lost the hard-won opportunity to be more than a daughter or a wfie, never thinking it would come around again.

“Do you mean that?” she asks. “That I might have my own interests to pursue?”

“Only if you promise to tell me what those interests are sometime.”

“I like to learn things about science and new discoveries. Have you ever heard of the electric bulb?”

“I’ve seen one.”

“You’ve seen one?” She nearly gasps. She’s read all about them, seen illustrations, but never met anyone who has seen one in person.

“There’s a park in New York City illuminated at night by electric lamps. It’s not as pretty as candlelight, but it is rather enchanting.”

“Some day I would like to see one.”

“I am certain that you will.”

She’s quiet for a few moments, thinking about the possibility. It occurs to her that she’s forgotten all about her earlier discomfort and melancholy and that perhaps the picnic has been a success after all.

“I would like you to know that I didn’t marry you because it was the only option,” she tells him.

“Oh? I’m glad to hear that.”

“I think it’s possible that I might like you. And that I trust you.”

He laughs at that. “You can take your time on making up your mind about it, but I already know that I like you, fair Kate.”

They smile at each other and she tips her head down almost bashfully. She’s not quite willing to admit to him yet, but she likes it when he calls her Kate. She likes almost everything about him, really, even when he’s being stubborn.

“Do you think we could go on another picnic one day?” she asks.

“It was just on my mind to ask if you had any objections to stepping out with me again sometime. I’m sorry if there were some awkward moments earlier, it’s been a long time since I’ve done any courting.”

“But, we are already married.”

“Still, I think a bit of courting is in order, don’t you? How else am I to learn all that I should about my wife?”

“When you have put it in such a way as that, I can’t help but agree.”

#i wrote this #broken things #chapter 8 #AU #MSR

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chrys-is-back · 3 years

Text

Act I: The Journey Begins (pt.2)

Quincy went quiet. The weight he burdened from the knowledge of the question Chrys brought up, although he knew it would come eventually, was still something he wasn’t quite yet prepared to answer. His previous smile was now a little dimmer as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, but seeing Chrys so intently staring him down from not too far away, he was quick to then let out a small chuckle, albeit an awkward one, to try and keep the tone of the room lightened.

“Chrys, I-er...” he hesitated, gulping once as he let his gaze wander about to avoid seeing her face, but Chrys was quick to lean back into view curiously wondering what had him so choked up all of a sudden. Despite everything she had been through that led up to where she was now, there was a spark of innocence in those eyes still; she held a look of hopefulness, for as long as she could form her own comprehensive thoughts and actions Chrys made it her ultimate goal in life to find her parents.

“Quincy.” She finally spoke up which snapped him out of his trance of thought. “I know why you’re nervous.” She said while looking down a bit. This statement scaring the Lurantis more than she could imagine. Did he make it so obvious? Was he about to crush the closest thing he could call a daughter’s heart without even saying a single word.

“Chrys--” He went to start, but the Lilleena only shook her head, quick to cut him off with her own finished thought.

“If you don’t know anything you don’t have to feel bad about it~!” She suddenly said which froze Quincy in place. He had jumped the gun a bit, the reality of the situation was she thought he was as in the dark about them as she was? A wave of relief washed over him as his entire posture relaxed with a small sigh even escaping his nostrils through a heavy exhale. “I mean, you have to at LEAST know their faces though, are you make me believe that my sister and I showed up in that fantasy tale of the baby left in the rain on the porch in a basket?...In fact my sister was at least old enough to walk on her own! So no way that’s the case, they HAD to have left us...for a reason I swear I’ll find out!”

Quincy gave a solemn smile at that last bit

“So can you at LEAST tell me what they looked like? Were they pretty? Were they tall or short?...Me and Sylph are both mixbreeds of two female species, how is that even possible? -GASP-...were they MAGICAL?”

Quincy was silent again, his gaze going upward to the left for a moment to recollect some details about these mysterious parents before finally returning to Chrys’ face as he leaned forward and gave a smirk. “Well---look...I think you’re old enough now to know about them, are you ready Chrys? I’ll tell you all I know about them and I assure you.” He’d wink at her. “I know a lot more than you think so I think today you’ll be quite more informed about them than you’ve ever been.”

And that was all it took to get Chrys beaming excitedly again as her eyes widened, pupils dilating and even somehow getting sparkles in them that were bright enough to possible even let out a dazzle gleam attack in Quincy’s direction. “TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME!!!” She chanted while practically bouncing in her seat getting a nervous chuckle from Quincy who wondered what he had just awoken inside the hyperactive little sprout she was.

“Okay, okay, okay! Hahah, settle down and let me think, okay? It’s been a while. I’m not elderly yet, but I am getting older so you gotta let me refresh myself a bit.” He rubbed the back of one of his claws on his cheek as he thought to himself again for a moment. “Let’s see...you’re right about one thing. Your mom--is actually your moms. A Lilligant and a Tsareena, two commonly known predominantly female species that you and Sylph originate from. As for what they looked like? Hmm...well in the best way I could put it, the Tsareena was much more like your sister Sylph.” “So she was pretty?!”

“Ehehe, yes, she was very pretty. I mean that more in the sense of...she was stern and more like Sylph in the sense that she took her duties around the kingdom seriously, in fact!, Coincidentally she too was very close to the queen like how Sylph is.”

“Really? Why?”

“Well...Darina’s kingdom is pretty big on mix breeds existing I’m sure you already know, but Darina’s not a cruel queen, some Kingdom’s are strict on enforcing their biases to mix species and purebreds, but Darina is nice enough to accept purebreds like even me into her kingdom so long as we can prove we pose no threat and that’s how I got to be here as long as I have and that is also how your mothers got to be here as well, but specifically your Tsareena mother was very grateful to the queen for what she permitted them to do so a lot of her work was volunteer based to help the knights, the denizens, anyone she could to show her loyalty and usefulness.”

“That certainly does sound like Sylph.” Chrys would passively comment with an eye roll which warranted Percy to reach a claw out and platfully push down on her head.

“Yeah well...go easy on your sister, okay? I know it may not seem like it, but I assure you she only does everything she does for you and even if she seems high-strung on the Queen, it’s only because it’s her job to be where as in the end of it all, she’d still put your life above hers, but don’t go saying that everywhere okay? Avoid getting you both in trouble, yeah?”

“I guess..I just wish she would be given more time to be with me is all...wait, but this was all about the Tsareena mom and how she was like Sylph, does that mean-”

“Yes, yes it does. The Lilligant mom was more like you. A free spirit. Now granted, it’s not like she too wasn’t in an eternal gratitude to the Queen for her permiitance to be in this kingdom, but she merely desired a nice life with your other mom which-” “Is kinda like how I want to spend so much time with my big sister!” “Exactly~! BUUUUUUUT, you may also like to hear that she was frequently getting in trouble just as you do for exploring where she shouldn’t be--or, rather, exploring places that she shouldn’t in the sense of it posing a danger to herself. I used to always say you got it from your mother, I suppose now you get to find out what that means, huh?”

There was a big grin on Chrys’ face upon hearing that. Her eyes even began to water a little showing beginning signs of tears welling up as all she could imagine was her mom and her out and about on “adventures” that Chrys tended to go on spontaneously, but these weren’t sad tears, in fact her smile persisted even as she had to quickly close her eyes and wipe her arm on them to rid herself of the tears before they could fall. She felt proud that she could turn out like her mom and to that same extent Sylph turning out like them too. Quickly letting out a giggle to stop Quincy from Worrying, she kicked her feet again while leaning forward with a beaming, ear to ear grin on her face. “So apples didn’t fall too far from the tree then, huh~?”

“Certainly not, Chrysanthemum. And I’m sure if they turned up again some day they’d be just as happy to see that for themselves too.” The Lurantis would reply

“But I have one more question, Uncle Q.”

“Hmm?”

“How---exactly did two females make Sylph and I?”

“Uhhhhh--”

“If it’s embarrassing or inappropriate leave me out of the loop!”

“No no, it’s none of that--uhm...hmm...it had to do with this special place--”

“IF IT’S EMBARRASSING OR INAPPROPRIATE PLEASE LEAVE ME OUT OF THE LOOP.”

“Not that kind of special place!!! I meant it more like--there was a place in a foreign land they traveled to. It was known something like...Khabadallah’s crescent? Yeah that was it! Khabadallah’s Crescent.”

“What the hey is that?”

“It’s a unique island..from what they explained to me the first time they went there which resulted in Sylph...it’s a crescent shaped island that was once inhabited by a Xerneas who resides there as a giant world-like tree.”

“Like the baby Xern...” Chrys whispered with those sparkles in her eyes again.

“Now how did this result in you and Sylph happening? Well it’s said that a lot of couples who know of the place tend to go out to it because the tree that the Xerneas resides as has blessed the island with the Xerneas’ life creating essences and energies so even the most unlikely of couples to produce kids can pray to the tree and so far with a one-hundred percent success rate find themselves able to bear the child of the partner who’s child they wish to bear. Obviously---the details weren’t disclosed to me, but I think it’s safe to say that when they went there they got all they had hoped for with Sylph and then later on again with you.”

Chrys pondered that for a moment. “So they went back twice, the first for Sylph and the second for me...”

Quincy nodded “Yes.”

“And if they wanted another child...they would go back again right?”

“That would make sense yes.”

“So--if I find this Crescent then surely that means I would be able to find my moms!”

“Er---well..maybe not it’s kinda been a long time n-”

“THANKS QUINCY, YOU JUST GAVE ME THE BIGGEST LEAD I’VE EVER HAD!!” The Lilleena would call over her shoulder as she had then quickly sprang up and was sprinting out of the shop.

A sense of dread coming back to the Lurantis again as he knows that when Chrys has a goal in mind there is almost nothing that will stop her from pursuing it. Reaching the entrance to his orphanage he could see she was already yards ahead of him on another mad dash leaving chaos in her wake, the last thing being heard from her being

“THE NEXT ADVENTURE BEGINS~!”

with Quincy only slumping over in the door way asking himself, “What did I do...?”

#plot post #Quincy the Lurantis #chrys the lilleena #Act I

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backtothestart02 · 3 years

Text

If Only She Knew - 10/10 | westallen fanfiction

A/N: It has finally come to an end. The drama, the long-waiting, the suspense! Finally, push will come to shove and there will be resolution. Enjoy!

Commissioned by: @shalanda83 (thank you, girl! I hope you love it!)

...

Chapter 10 -

The rest of the week flew by in a blur. Each day Joe applied more ointment on Barry’s cuts, and gradually, with time and rest, Barry was able to engage in more fun activities. They went fishing and boating. They found a beach that was pretty much void of anything pointy by the shore, and Barry was able to get his feet wet and then a little more. By the time Friday rolled around, he could do practically everything he’d been able to before the injury – before the kiss.

The kiss still weighed heavy on him. He’d been trying to find a moment to tell Iris how he felt about her, but Joe seemed to be an ever-constant presence. They were so busy doing stuff during the day too that letting it slip out in the tent at night with Iris before bed was impossible too. Iris fell asleep too fast.

Barry finally got it in his head that he was going to tell her when they got to the top of Devil’s Canyon on Friday. It would be perfect. They’d have time to breathe and just be alone, and the view would be breathtaking. Plus, if she decided she didn’t want to be with him after all or if she got really mad, they wouldn’t have another night together in the tent to be tense. Friday was their last day.

The only trick now was escaping on their hike without alarming Joe, because he definitely wouldn’t let them go on such a dangerous hike without supervision. The sheer drops and rocky climb were no joke at Devil’s canyon. The walk to get to the bottom of the canyon was quite a ways in and of itself. It was something to be planned for, not sprung up the day of. And Iris had been so certain Joe wouldn’t want to come even if they had told him ahead of time, so it had to be their little secret.

Seemed there were a lot of secrets they were keeping from him now, and from each other. Not a day went by that Barry didn’t beat himself up for not just kissing Iris back. So much could’ve been avoided.

He only hoped it wasn’t too late.

“So,” he prompted, rolling over in his sleeping bag. “How are we going to do this?”

It was 6am. Joe wasn’t up yet, but Barry knew Iris was. He could tell by the way her breathing shifted.

Iris turned toward him in her sleeping bag.

“Do what? The hike?”

He nodded.

“You feel you’re up to it still?”

“Positive. You can still see my cuts, but they don’t hurt anymore. I’ll put on some more Neosporin before we go, but I think I’m good.”

“Good.” She smiled brilliantly.

“So…”

“Right. My dad. I say we tell him we’re going on a hike. A nearby one, so he doesn’t freak, but one long enough that he’s not real interested in going with us. He’s never been one for long distances. Plus, the three of us have been together so often the past few days, I’m sure he’ll want a break to do his own thing before we head to the restaurant this afternoon.”

Right. The restaurant. He’d forgotten about that. He’d be driving.

He tried not to groan aloud.

“What?” she asked, brows furrowed, and he realized that even if he’d managed to suppress a groan, he hadn’t suppressed the face that went with said groan. “You look…distressed.”

“Just not looking forward to driving is all.” The creases in his face deepened. “I just got my permit. Having you and Joe in the car with all our stuff, I mean…”

“You’ll be fine,” she assured. “I’ll sit up front with you to put you at ease.”

That would actually probably make things worse, he thought.

“Thanks,” he said instead.

“Of course. What are best friends for?”

Her smile would be the death of him. But he couldn’t have her knowing that, not yet at least. So he smiled back, albeit not as brightly. Then she’d really know something was up.

In the next moment, the two heard Joe unzipping his tent and stalking across the campsite.

“I hear you two whispering,” he said.

Barry and Iris’ eyes locked.

“You can come out now. I’ll start on breakfast.”

“We’ll be out in a minute, Dad!” Iris called.

Some whispers followed, but within a few minutes Iris pulled down the zipper of their tent too and came out in her slippers. Barry tripped over the bottom of the tent but managed to catch himself before running smack into Iris.

“Zip up the tent,” Iris whispered hastily.

“Right,” Barry muttered, then turned around and did exactly that. It allowed time for his face to cool down from the embarrassment.

“Good morning, Dad,” Iris said, approaching her dad and going up on her tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He leaned down some to oblige her.

“What are you two doing up so early?”

Skilled in the art of lying straight to her dad’s face, Iris said, “Just talking about our day. Our last day!”

“Aww, you going to miss it up here? It’s been a fun week, despite…certain setbacks.”

On cue, Barry tripped over the cord holding up the meal tent and went floundering until he caught himself yet again.

“You okay there, son? You seem extra…clutzy this morning.”

“Dad.” Iris narrowed her brows.

Joe shrugged innocently.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Barry insisted. “Just…you know, I’m not in pain like before so I guess I’m being less careful.”

“Ah. Well, have a seat, these eggs won’t take long. While you’re eating, I’ll get started on the sausages and bacon.”

“Sounds delicious!”

Barry sat down at the picnic table, and Iris followed suit. After a few minutes of eating their eggs, Iris decided it was the appropriate time to broach the subject.

“So, Dad, Barry and I were thinking of going on a hike today before we leave.”

“Oh? You think you can handle that, Barry?” he asked.

“Definitely,” Barry said around a mouthful of eggs. “I slept good and I’m not in pain.”

“We should probably put one more round of ointment on those cuts just to be safe. And be sure to take some granola bars and water. Even the shortest walk can seem long once the sun comes out.”

“Will do. Thanks, Dad.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just around the lake,” Iris said easily. “We might stop occasionally to take pictures too, so I’m guessing…noon we’ll be back? Maybe earlier, just depends.”

Joe nodded, none the wiser.

“Sounds good. It’ll give me some alone time before we head back this afternoon.”

“We’re stopping at the restaurant, remember?” Iris reminded him.

“Oh, right, of course. Barry’s driving!” He chuckled, lightly. “Excited?”

Iris shot him a look and then a smile, which told him his face didn’t look quite so depressing this time around.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he said.

And Iris had to suppress her own groan then, because that had definitely been sarcasm.

…

After breakfast, Barry and Iris waited for Joe to leave the campsite for who knows where – and for their tummies to settle after eating so much – before heading out for the trail leading to Devil’s Canyon.

It was quite the trek, and even though Barry’s wounds had more or less healed up, he was starting to regret the fact that he hadn’t brought along sturdier tennis shoes in which to make the hike. He did his best not to complain however, given the view in front of him was that of Iris’ backside most of the time. She was wearing short shorts, and her bootie was accentuated. It made his mouth water to be honest, and he knew there would be no more delaying how he felt once they got to the top of that canyon.

Unfortunately for him, Iris got annoyed on occasion that he was always behind her.

Complaints of “why are you so slow?” and “Your legs are longer than mine, keep up!” often slipped past her lips.

Barry didn’t take it to heart. And she did have a point. He didn’t work out, but he did have long legs. By the time they got to the start of the canyon trail, he made a point of staying in stride with her and using his long legs to do it.

Time passed, and he allowed himself to look at the view around them – not just beside him. Trees fell away and the higher they got, the more scenery that was available to them.

“Oh, my God, it’s beautiful!” Iris said, her breath stolen from her when they reached the top.

It was indeed beautiful. As long as one didn’t look straight down at how far they could fall if the somewhat sturdy railing wasn’t in place.

“It is,” he said, but he was looking at her.

She turned to look at him and reached for his hand, which he eagerly held. She smiled.

“Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course.”

“I know you were reluctant, but…”

He shrugged. “I’m glad we did it.”

She beamed and then moved to untangle her hand from his. He wouldn’t let her. She looked at him curiously.

“Barry?”

He turned to face her and took her other hand in his other one.

“Iris, there’s something I have to tell you.”

She swallowed.

“I’ve been trying to tell you all week, but…the timing just never seemed right.” And you wouldn’t let me. “Today just feels like the perfect time to tell you.”

“O...kay. Why do I feel nervous about this?” she asked, her fingers tensing in his grip.

“Probably because I’m nervous,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Barry…” she warned, but he wasn’t going to chicken out this time. What was she gonna do? Run away from him?

“I love you, Iris.”

Her eyes widened, and then filled with tears. She looked away, tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Iris-”

“Let me go, Barry.”

“Iris.”

“I don’t want to hear this!”

“Iris!”

She huffed but stopped struggling and looked at him.

“How could you?” she seethed.

His heart dropped into his stomach, and without thinking, he dropped her hands. Luckily she didn’t run away, but the conversation didn’t improve much beyond that.

“I…don’t understand.”

She scoffed.

“You don’t understand. Well, I do. You don’t want me to feel bad about kissing you earlier this week, and you not feeling the same.”

“No, Iris, listen-”

“So you wait until I’ve basically gotten the whole incident out of my system to make some grand love declaration that you don’t really believe, so you can pretend to go out with me all because-”

“Iris!”

Without warning, he pulled her to him, cupped her face in his hands and swiftly kissed her before she could continue her angry rampage.

Even that didn’t work.

She pushed him away and slapped him, huffing as her cheeks grew damp with fresh tears.

“I hate you!” she huffed.

His hands formed into fists at his sides in frustration. He forced them to relax.

“Iris, I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”

“Oh, right,” she snarled.

“Since we met!” he insisted.

She wasn’t any happier, but she held her tongue.

“You know what was the happiest day of my life? When you walked into it. When I saw how beautiful you were in your peach shirt with the yellow sun and blue water? And those fringey black shorts you loved so much with the jelly pink shoes? And the sparkly butterfly clips you wore in your hair every day for an entire summer?”

She gasped.

“Yeah, I remember that first outfit. I remember when we started hanging out at each other’s houses and how I nearly forgot my own name when you decided we should get married – and not when we were older, but right away. We both dressed up and your dad even filmed it.”

She swallowed.

“And when my mom died…and that first night I was crying on the couch. I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking about how I lost both my parents in one night…you were the only one who believed me. And you stayed with me on that couch all night till morning, stroking my hair as I cried out for the mother I’d lost and the dad who’d wrongfully been ripped away from me.”

“I…heard you crying from my room. I don’t know why my dad didn’t. He’s a heavy sleeper, I guess. But I…I knew I had to go to you.”

“It was a hard adjustment living just down the hall from the only crush I’d ever had, ever will have.”

“Barry,” she said, but this time it was soft, awestruck.

“It’s you, Iris. You’re beautiful and smart and fun.”

Her tears morphed into laughter.

“And I never told you how I felt because I never in a million years thought you’d be into me. So when you…kissed me earlier this week, I… I was in shock. I could hardly believe it. It didn’t seem real.” He reached for her hands again, and she let him hold them again. “I needed time to process. By the time I was ready to tell you, to act on it…you refused to let me. What was I supposed to do?”

She sighed.

“I was so embarrassed. I just wanted to forget it ever happened. It was better than facing the truth that my super cute, super smart, loving, awesome live-in best friend didn’t feel the same way as me. It was easier than wondering what was wrong with me that you didn’t at least find me attractive in some way.”

“I find you hot, Iris West,” she sputtered.

She blushed.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been going through puberty on this trip?”

“You’re going through puberty? I thought you already-”

He shook his head slowly.

“I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Iris, but now…it’s like on a whole other level. I can…” He gulped. “I can hardly control myself around you. When you sit on my lap or lean against my shoulder, and I can feel allll your curves, it is… Heaven and Hell simultaneously.”

“Barry!” she squealed.

“It’s true!” he laughed. “When Joe announced we had to share a tent together this week, I thought I was gonna die. My body was gonna tell you how I felt before my words ever did.”

She put her hands over her face.

“Oh, my God, Barry… Maybe you shouldn’t be telling me this.”

“I’m telling you…” He pulled her hands down and tucked some of her wild strands of hair behind her ears. “So you’ll believe me when I say I’m ridiculously in love with you, I’m attracted to you – especially that cute butt of yours.”

She squeezed it self-consciously, and he smirked.

“And my biggest regret this summer has been not kissing you back. If I could do it ov-”

But he didn’t have a chance to finish, because this time Iris got up on her tip-toes and kissed him. She didn’t have to worry about him not reciprocating either, because instantly his arms wound around hers, and his lips melted into hers. They kissed for a while up on the top of that canyon, letting the sun warm them and the wind circle around them.

When Iris finally pulled back, she was smiling unashamedly, and Barry was grinning too.

“I’m sorry I slapped you,” she said. “I just really thought-”

“I know,” he said. “I’d let you do whatever you want to me, Iris West. You can even break my hurt. It’s worth it for this one kiss.”

She beamed. “If I break your heart, you can break mine. Because I love you, Barry Allen. And I have for a very long time.”

“And all those popular guys at school you had crushes on?”

“Passing fancies.” She brushed that off. “You’re the real deal for me.” She licked her lips. “If you wanna be.”

He smiled. “I definitely wanna be.”

She pulled him down to kiss him again, and he accepted her lips eagerly.

“Good,” she said between kisses. “That’s very, very good.”

…

By the time Barry and Iris returned to the campsite, they found Joe West all packed up except for the hammock he had hanging between two trees by the fire pit. They snuck into their own tent and made out for a while, this time getting more handsy than they’d been able to be while standing on top of a canyon.

Iris even accidentally brushed Barry’s hard-on at one point with her fingertips.

“Oh, my God, you are-”

“Shh,” he shushed her with a laugh. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

“But Barry.”

“Do you want to wake up your dad? One base at a time today, okay?”

She chuckled.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll try to avoid that general area, if I can.”

He groaned. “You’ll be the death of me,” he said, and kissed her some more.

They got pretty hot and heavy but made a promise to not go removing clothes on their first day as boyfriend and girlfriend. Still, by the time they were done, Barry definitely needed a cold shower, and to be fair they both needed to shower from the hike in general. So they gathered their things and rode their bikes to the public showers. Reluctantly, they didn’t share one, and by the time they’d finished their libido had lessened to a much more manageable level.

When they got back, Joe West was up and asking them if they were ready to head home.

“You mean to the restaurant,” Barry and Iris both shouted back.

Joe was shocked to his core.

“Barry, you ready for this?”

“Born ready,” he said happily. And this time there was no sarcasm.

“Well, okay then.” Joe could only laugh. “Let’s get these tents down and we’ll head on out!”

Still grinning, Barry and Iris assisted him as best they could and within half an hour, they were on the road, heading towards Mama Bear’s Breakfast Diner.

The drive wasn’t half as bad as Barry had thought it would be. Iris being in the front seat with him actually helped. And Joe had nodded back off in the back seat, allowing them to hold hands without him knowing while Barry drove.

‘I love you’ Iris mouthed to Barry when they turned in to the diner’s parking lot.

Barry parked, then looked in the back at Joe still snoring and leaned in to kiss her.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, and she bit her bottom lip, already fantasizing about the next time they’d get to make out. Something told her it would be a while.

“Dad!”

“Joe!” They said simultaneously a beat later.

“Hmm, what?” Joe roused himself.

“We are here.” Iris giggled, pointing towards the building.

“Oh, okay.” He rubbed his eyes. “Let’s go in then.” He yawned.

“Sleepyhead.” She rolled her eyes.

“Hey, you two woke me up at damn near 6am this morning, so I don’t want to hear it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” Iris brushed him off.

Barry just smiled.

The three of them went inside the diner, only to be greeted by Mama Bear herself.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite threesome!” she gushed. “Come on in, I’ll seat you myself.”

“Thank you, Mama Bear,” Joe said in a gravelly voice.

Barry and Iris held in their laughter barely. Joe West always got so gentlemanly and indulgent when they met with the owner of the diner.

“Have a seat,” she said, setting the menus down on the table. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order. In the meantime…” She gestured to the people dancing in the middle of the restaurant to the live music that was almost so loud you couldn’t carry on conversation.

Joe just smiled, but Iris’ eyes lit up and she grabbed Barry’s hand.

“Dancing!” She gasped. “Barry, dance with me!” she demanded, and he didn’t have much say in the matter because she pulled him to the center of the room amidst the other dancers.

Mama Bear chuckled beside Joe.

“I’ve always thought they’d make the cutest couple,” she confided.

Joe just laughed and shook his head.

“Nah, I think they’re just friends,” he replied.

She shrugged.

“Maybe one day then,” she said, and turned to check on some of the other guests.

“Yeah, maybe…”

And then his eyebrows furrowed. He suddenly noticed how close Barry and Iris were standing on the dance floor, the starry-eyed gaze Iris was sending Barry, and just how low Barry’s hand was inching down on her back. When – in the heat of the moment – Barry spun Iris away and then brought her back, dipping her down low and nuzzling her nose, Joe sank to his seat, his heart sinking into despair.

He watched in agony as the two teens before him shared the briefest kiss.

“Oh, hell, naw,” he muttered, his head falling into his hands.

“Something wrong, honey?” a waitress asked.

“Whiskey, please,” he said.

“Oh, we only serve breakfast here, I’m afraid. No hard liquor.”

He looked up with a pained gaze.

“Eggnog?” he asked hopefully.

“Coming right up!” she said cheerfully. “I’ll tell Mama Bear right away.”

“Thanks, darlin.”

She disappeared, and he was forced to continue to watch his two teens dance.

He’d always been rooting for Barry secretly. He’d known they both had feelings for each other for years.

But it was one thing to want it and another thing to have it happen when they were both hormonal teenagers living just down the hall from each other.

There would have to be some new rules put in, and they probably wouldn’t like it. But it would be for their own good.

He was already preparing a speech for when they got back to the table, but when that time came, he finally really saw how happy they were and found he couldn’t burst their bubble just yet.

“I didn’t know you liked dancing, Barry,” he commented innocently.

“Oh.” He blushed fiercely. Joe noticed how Iris reached for his hand under the table. “Well, if it’s Iris,” he said by way of explanation.

Iris leaned on her other hand and looked up at him, completely enraptured.

Joe couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, they could keep their bubble for one more day.

Because really… If they only knew.

#westallen #fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #if only she knew #chapter 10 #fic commissions #for shalanda83

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ilguna · 3 years

Text

Lacuna - Chapters 1-4 (f.o)

summary: they say the odds tend to favor those who need them. well, they were wrong.

warnings; swearing.

wc; 14.8k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

-- CHAPTER ONE --

The sound of screaming jolts you awake, enough to get your heart racing, and the grogginess of sleep is completely erased from your mind. Your eyes search the room quickly, looking for some sort of intruder, until you realize it’s just your sister again. Awake before the rest of the house, uncomfortable because of the silence, and probably starving.

You’re not sure how it’s possible to have the same exact reaction every single time she does it. But your brain thinks the same thing without fail, that someone has just broken into the house, and you’re about to get murdered. It’s ridiculous for a couple of reasons. The first, is that they would most likely not go for the back room first. And the second is that no one gets murdered here.

If anything, everyone huddles up together, protecting each other the best they can. To turn against someone else would be ridiculous. There is no reason for murder, when two of you get picked off every single year. If anything, you should be teaming up together to get it stopped. But that would cost thousands of lives, once again.

With a yawn, you push yourself off of the bed, dragging your feet when it comes to taking care of your sister. The second you’re in sight, she seems to calm down a little bit, holding her arms up to you. You scoop her up, holding her against your chest as you shush her slightly, bouncing your steps a little more as you head into the kitchen.

No one else is home except the two of you. Reed and Mox are most likely on a boat in the middle of the water, fishing to fill today’s quota. They’ll be saving a couple for you guys later tonight, and if they come back with enough, you’re sure they’ll send you to the square to trade for bread, and anything else you’ll need for today.

You can take a guess already. It’ll be soaps and shampoos, and if there isn’t a nice enough outfit that you can find in your mom’s old wardrobe, then you will have to go out to buy a hand-me-down from the square. Alyssum--your sister--will most likely fit in to her outfit from last year, she hasn’t grown much since then. Your brothers stopped growing a couple of years ago, and they fit into your fathers pants and shirts just fine.

As you set your sister up on the floor with a little bit of soft, fresh bread, you head to your parents room. Holding your breath when you open the door, because you only come in here once a year. This will be the one time you permit yourself to look over it again. You don't’ stay for very long though, you don’t want to kneel and cry on the floor like you did two years ago. You’re terrified of the never ending onslaught of tears again.

Reed doesn’t have the same reaction as you and Mox do when you come into the room. Reed has to be the strongest, in his mind. He doesn’t want to watch as his younger siblings collapse and crumble beneath him. He lets you guys use him as a platform, and only sometimes do you get to return the favor.

You open the creaky wooden door, looking over the dresses. A frown comes over your face when you realize that last years had hardly fit. And if last year was a bust, then that means that all the others won’t be big enough either, right?

Even though you’re sure that it’ll be impossible for you to fit into any of them again this year, you pick out the biggest one. It’s the closest to the end, one you haven’t worn before because it was too big beforehand. How the tables have turn.

After you lay it over your arm, you shut the wardrobe doors and leave the room. After, you quickly lay the dress on the desk in the corner of the room. Something your father used to sit at every night as he wrote up things for the peacekeepers to send. While you’re in your room, you open up the shutters to see that the sun is higher than you thought. You’d think it to be early morning, the sky not even turning blue yet.

Quickly, you place your black flats beneath the dress, and you also lay out Alyssum’s baby clothes. By the time you’ve returned to the living room, Alyssum is finished with the bread. She chews on her favorite stuffed animal, staring off into space. Not a single care in the world.

Just as you’re deciding to change Alyssum and maybe start up the first bath of many that will happen, the door swings open. Mox is the first to appear in the doorway, hauling the cooler in his arms. When he sees you standing by the couch, he offers you a tight smile, before heading straight for the fridge.

On the other hand, Reed has a basket of bread. You’ll take a bet right now, that Mox had lost whatever game they were playing on the boat, making him carry the heavy cooler, while Reed got the lightest thing in the world. Reed shuts the door behind with his foot, and then he shuffles over to the counter, clearing the cutting board and knife into the sink to make room, before he sets it down.

“I’ve fed her.” you tell him, “And I’ve picked out her outfit and everything. Do I have to run down to the square for anything? Soaps?”

Mox groans out a complaint as he struggles to lift the cooler again. Reed chuckles, smirking at him, before he turns to you, “No, I got them early this morning before anyone else could. Go ahead and take a bath first, I have to help him out.”

“Shut up.” Mox shoots at him, glaring.

You leave the room quietly, picking up the dress from the room, and whatever you’ll be wearing underneath. The bath is a blur as you scrub the salt scent from your skin. It isn’t until you’re nearly done, when you realize that the soap is going to definitely cover it, with the sickeningly sweet smell that comes from it.

You take your time to dry your hair, getting dressed slowly to ensure that you don’t accidentally rip the dress, only to find out that it slips on freely. It’s not tight on you as you expected, you could run and nothing would tear. Once you leave the bathroom, you take your towel and brush with you, going to sit in your own room while you do your hair.

Just as you’ve gotten your hair to stay in place, with it being pulled back as best as possible so that you can see, Reed hands Alyssum off to you to dry off a little more and get dressed. It’s too easy for her, she doesn’t have much hair, you gather it into a tiny ponytail that makes a palm tree on the top of her head. For a cute effect, you add a bow to it.

Reed and Mox are ready faster than you are. However, just because they’re fast, doesn’t mean that they’re not dragging their feet when it comes to leaving the house. The second you leave, it’s straight for the stage, where you’ll watch this years unfortunate tributes get reaped for the hunger games.

You could say a million bad things about the Capitol, and the games. But instead, you’ll keep it quiet this year. Because if there’s anything you don’t need right now, it’s being pulled in for the games. Your brothers can’t handle another death in the family, you know it.

Your mom had done enough damage on everyone, but your father was still around long enough to stay strong. Those are the only times you remember Reed still being so soft. Your mom had died giving birth to Alyssum, and no one had realized that she was bleeding to death until it was too late. Thankfully, you were too young, not allowed to be in the room until you were forced to say goodbye, before you were whisked away again. The next time you saw her after that was in the casket.

Your dad had done remarkably well when it came to keeping up with work, and juggling you and Alyssum. Mox and Reed were a year shy of not being in the reapings anymore, so they knew they would have to work harder, no matter what it took or sacrificed.

All that preparation had done Reed good, you suppose. Because only a few months later he would die in a fishing accident. Taking out District Four’s best fishers. For a while, there was talk that it was done on purpose, and the peacekeepers were tired of having to deal with every single person on that boat. But that wouldn’t add up correctly, because your dad was almost always a favorite of the peacekeepers, even the new ones.

In your opinion, your family has gone through enough. Too many have died, and honestly, you all were orphaned for a while, but under the radar. The second that Reed had turned eighteen, he immediately filed to be seen as the parent for all of you. Which stopped the community home from trying to snatch you up.

You guys stop to have the quick breakfast that was somehow skipped over by accident. Consisting of mostly bread, until Reed decides that it doesn’t hurt to have a little bit of fish too. When you’re all finished, the table is cleaned, and then you really have to leave the house.

The walk to the stage is mostly quiet. Reed will play around with Alyssum occasionally, but she mostly stares at the people around you. She hasn’t seen this many people gather together before, it’s mainly just you three, and then the neighbor kids. She wasn’t old enough last year to fully realize what was going on around her. Curious, for sure, but not really caring.

On the way, you manage to catch sight of one of your friends. The second that she turns her head in your direction, you wave. It takes her a moment to realize who you are because of the distance, but soon enough she buddies up next to you.

“Hey, pretty dress.” you tell her, and she beams a little bit.

“Thanks! That one’s new on you, did last year not fit?” she asks, she knows that this is your mothers dress no doubt, but she doesn’t bring it up. Instead, she alludes to it.

“It was tight enough last year, so I was sure it would rip by the seams this year. I found this one at the end.” you tell her, and she nods lightly.

The both of you go on like that, going back and forth talking about what you had done today. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to fill the silence, and suppress the sickness that’s beginning to rise in your stomach, like it does every year. You’d call it intuition if it weren’t so common.

She’s a year younger than you, so she has to move to her age group, fourteen. While you on the other hand, move to be in fifteen. As everyone slowly files in to the sections, you look to find Reed and Mox again, to see that they’re standing off to the side. Alyssum is on Reed’s shoulders, making him very easy to spot. He holds onto her hands tightly, not risking the chance of her falling. With them is one of the neighbor’s sons, Caspian.

Soon, you turn back to look at the stage again to see that the governor is helping Mags up onto the stage. She’s the only victor of this district, and she’ll be the only help to anyone going into the arena. You really wish that the main career districts would stop being so prestigious, and allow others to win too. That they’d stop training their kids illegally and actually have a sliver of a chance like the rest of you.

They must have so many of their victor houses filled, that they’re always creating more. One new one every year, just in case they win again, which is hardly ever not the case. Instead of a single dozen, they must have four or five.

Soon, the shuffling of feet has stopped, and the anthem plays. You watch for the fifteenth time as they play the same video. Listen as the same speech is given. That this is what the districts have earned, and being descendants from the originals that had thrown the revolution, you’ve automatically been given the same burden. Being alive is simply offensive to the Capitol.

And then the governor closes his speech, and your districts Capitol representative heads up to the microphone. Elysia Fardust--you really can’t believe that they have ridiculous names like that, as if the body modifications weren’t enough--is looking a lot more humble this year. Last year she had outdone everyone, wanting at least one year in the spotlight, you guess.

She wears a blonde wig, you can tell by the way it shines in the sun, reflecting the light off of it. They could have done their very best with it, trying to make it look realistic, and it still would have turned out looking cheap. Her theme this year seems to be blue and gold, since that’s what the frilly dress she wears is made up of. On her feet is also a pair of gold heels. They look like they would be trouble to walk in, but she moves around just fine. Around her wrists are bracelets that jangle and shine the light back into your eyes at the wrong angle.

There’s a huge smile on her face as she stands tall, “Good afternoon, citizens of District Four.” Unlike other representatives you’ve had, her accent doesn’t stand out as much, it’s a subtle thing, almost as if she’s ashamed of it, “Happy Hunger Games.”

You roll your eyes involuntarily, letting them land on the ground as you shake your head softly. Because only to the Capitol people, is this entire event amusing. Watching others fight to the death so that one may be the winner, win his life back. While everyone back home is forced to watch it in agony. A few will take bets, as their hopes for winners sink each year when all they get are dead bodies in the end.

“We’ll start with the ladies.” she chirps, and you feel the swarm of butterflies first, and then the disgust of her tone crushes all of them at once. Except for a few, which cause more harm than good, as they fly around.

You can’t help but to turn to look at Reed and Mox, hoping that they can see where you’re standing. And miraculously, you’re able to catch Reed looking at you at the same time. Mox catches on eventually and looks over too. He also mouths for you to breathe.

The faint clinking of rings makes you look towards the stage again to see her pulling out the white paper slip. Butterflies swarm, and the only thing you can relate this feeling back to, is when you have those rare presentations in school. The type that means a lot on who you are, and the grade you recieve.

There’s a pain in your chest as you hold your breath to make all those butterflies stop flying and die from the lack of air. You’re not the only one though, you can feel every single girl that’s eligible to be put in the games, collectively hold their own breaths. Eyes wide and staring just like you are, hoping and praying that it’s not going to be you.

Elysia takes her time, unfolding the paper. She reads it to herself first it seems, before a wide smile spreads over her face, and she looks out to you girls, “Our girl tribute is (Y/n) Gallows.”

-- CHAPTER TWO --

You feel lifeless. As the blood drains from your face. As the wind leaves your lungs. As all the strength you had minutes ago suddenly diminishes. Standing is a hard thing to do. You feel like you should collapse, head aimed toward the sky as you stare. Leaving people to wonder if it’s the shock, or if it’s refusal to go up to the stage.

All you can do now is stare straight ahead at the stage. Feeling all the eyes bore on the back of your head. They’re all giving you away, and if they’d just look somewhere else, then they would have absolutely no clue that it was your name that was called. Elysia wouldn’t be able to spot you so easily like she is now, and the peacekeepers wouldn’t have started their march.

You swallow down the vomit, gritting your teeth as you clench your fists tightly at your sides. Robotically, you turn your body, being gentle on your feet as if you’ll fly into the air if you’re light enough. On the way to the walkway, you get a clear look at Reed and Mox and regret it immediately. You didn’t need to look at them, not yet.

Reed’s face is hard, straight and angry. He looks like one of those tributes that get thrown in once in a while. The type that fight really hard and nearly win every single year. Until some brat career district comes around and kills them off. Reed’s lips are pressed in a thin line, and his eyes stare into yours.

Mox isn’t as stoic. His eyes are glossy, you can see them from where you’re standing. You can also see how red and blotchy his face is getting. He’s already been crying, the tears must have burst right after your name had been called. But you don’t remember hearing the sound of him crying.

You could have easily missed it while your brain threw you in a surprised mindset. It would have been easy to miss the sounds of everyone around you--although you’re sure that there wasn’t much noise in the first place--as you were suddenly clouded by your thoughts. Different escape plans had come to mind, but all of those would have been foolish. You would be laughed at later on for being so cowardly.

When you make it to the walkway, you clear your face as best as you can, standing tall and squaring your shoulders. You force yourself to look tough, even though every single part of you is screaming. As long as you don’t look vulnerable on the outside, you’ll be fine.

Elysia’s eyes follow you up the steps, taking your hand when you’re within length, and stopping you in front of the girls bowl. From here, you can see everyone, especially your brothers who aren’t looked so hot now. They must be envisioning it now, seeing you in the games. They must be seeing all of the scenarios, knowing that you’ll end up in at least one of them.

Elysia doesn’t waste any time, moving on to the boys bowl. She takes her time like she did the first time, reaching for one of the top ones, instead of digging her hand in the bowl like she did before. Had she plucked one from the top, you wouldn’t be where you are.

Suddenly, you’re glad that Reed and Mox are too old to be placed in the games. Too old to volunteer over some random boy that will be picked. They need to be here for Alyssum, and you know that very well. You’re sure that if it were possible, Reed would most definitely volunteer, so that he would be able to protect you in the games the entire time.

Mox wouldn’t be able to stomach it, being in the arena. He would last only so far, because he can’t kill people. He can hardly stand fish being killed so that you guys can live every single day. So that you can provide for the Capitol. Killing people is absolutely out of the question. But Reed would do it if he could. He’d do it for you because he knows that’s what an older sibling is supposed to do. Protect the younger ones.

Elysia unfolds the second paper, “Finnick Odair.”

You have to stop yourself from opening your mouth when your eyes land on him. And you know that you’re utterly screwed, because this is not an older boy that would take pity on you and hopefully keep you around in the arena because you’re from home. No, this is Finnick, fourteen, handsome, a year younger than you.

You will be expected to look over him, since you’re the older one now. The only experience you have when it comes to fourteen year-olds is the girl that you’re friends with. Who is staring at you with big eyes still, like she can’t believe she was just talking to you, and now you’re going to be sent into the games. She’s also thinking of all the possibilities.

Finnick comes down the aisle with the same hard look on his face that you had. Elysia doesn’t hold her hand out for him. Instead, she lets him walk in front of his bowl, and she turns to everyone that’s waiting below.

“May the odds be ever in your favor.” she says again, the first time was before it had started, “You can shake hands, now.”

She backs up, allowing you to get a look at Finnick.

You’ve seen him around school, and you’ve talked to him plenty of times. He’s smart, he’s as knowledgeable with knots and fishing as you are. He’ll be a good swimmer, and he’ll know a few plants that are edible. And if he prefers spears rather than the actual fishing pole, then he’ll be able to throw well too.

There’s got to be some hidden skills in there. But all you know for the most part, is that you’re even on some playing fields. You’re coming from the same district, you’re going to have the same skills. It won’t be like people coming from the main career districts, because they have years of training under their belt with so many things. It won’t be like the outsider districts like ten, eleven and twelve.

You’d consider Finnick a friend at this exact moment, with all of the times you have talked and all of the things you know about him. He’s your friend, and you hope that he considers you the same. Because in the arena, you’ll hope that he’ll consider an alliance. He’s from home, he’ll share the same memories, and he’ll make you feel safe again.

You take Finnick’s hand in yours, shaking it a couple of times.

And then, you’re ushered off of the stage. You and Finnick are separated from each other as you’re guided and then locked into a room. Here, you pace the room back and forth, because it’s beginning to sink in. You’re going to be sent in an arena with twenty-three other teens your age, and you’re going to be forced to kill them. You’re going to have to survive the best you can, no matter how hard that is.

The door opens minutes later, and you look up to see your three siblings. You only have a couple of minutes to talk to them, says the peacekeeper. Then he shuts the door, and you’re engulfed in arms.

“Remember all the knots I taught you,” Reed tells you immediately, “How to prepare the fish properly, cook it thoroughly. Boil the water at least before you drink out of it. If they have iodine then that’s what you need to put in it, only a few drops.”

Between gasps of air, Mox begins to give his input, “If you can, make a spear. It doesn’t have to be fancy, just sturdy enough to throw. A strong stick, and sharpen it to a tip with a sharp rock.”

You suddenly know why they’ve been teaching you this information all these years. And you know why your dad did the same to them when the time came. It’s because if this had happened, you would be very good at all of the things that they had taught you over the years. There would be no time for hesitation inside of the arena, and there would be no possibility of that if you were so good at everything that would be used inside of there.

They’ve been preparing you this entire time.

Alyssum reaches for you, and Reed passes her over. You bounce her in your arms lightly, hugging her to your chest as you press a kiss to her forehead. This might be the last time you get to hold her. The last fuzzy memory she will have of you.

Mox must remember the same thing at the same time you do, because his arms swarm you again, and Reed follows. You stand there quietly for a long moment.

“Win, (Y/n).” Reed tells you, “Do everything you can to win. Don’t fall to the obvious things, you know how well you are. Don’t mess it up in there.”

“I know.” you whisper, and just before the doors open, Reed presents you with a freshly polished ring.

It takes you a moment before you recognize it, and that’s when your eyes go wide. It’s your mom’s engagement ring. Your mother hadn’t wanted something big on her finger, and so your dad got her something small. Something that represented the district, while also being a very beautiful ring.

It’s a silver ring, with one lone wave in the middle of it. You take it in your fingers, turning it over for a moment before you slide it on your ring finger with shaky hands. By the time you’ve looked up to thank him, there’s tears gushing down the sides of your cheeks.

Then, the door opens and Reed and Mox are scrambling to give you the last bit of affection they can afford. You kiss Alyssum one last time, before Reed carefully takes her from you. And the last thing you see are a fresh wave of tears on Mox’s face. The door shuts heavily after that, and you have to force yourself to sit down, as you wrap your arms around yourself.

You have a chance, you know that. There’s a chance that you will make it out of this, and you have to hold onto that. You can’t accept defeat just yet, because that’ll ruin your entire mindset. You’ll go into the games thinking you’re going to die, and it’ll take away all your fight. You’ll be weak, useless and depressed. Even the most incompetent fighter will be able to take you.

The doors open again, taking you by surprise as you look up to see Capsian. You and him don’t talk much. In fact, you two hardly get along because he’s always picking on you, and Reed won’t tell him to knock it off. You eventually started a grudge on him, and the resentment just grew from there on.

“I’ll take care of your brothers,” he tells you, “I’ll stay with them to help out around the house. My entire family wishes you good luck in the games.”

“Thank you,” you say, curling up on the couch, he takes this as an invitation to sit on the other end.

“You’ll be good at the games, I can feel it.” he tells you, nodding to himself as he stares out the window, “We’ll be cheering you on from here.”

You don’t say anything to this, and the rest of his few minutes is spent in silence. He wishes you luck once more, before he disappears out the doors, and then just like that, you’re left alone again. It isn’t for long, as the peacekeepers escort you to the train station, where you see your brothers standing there for a final time, since they have to see you off, no matter what happens.

You know that you’ll be on camera again here, and so you stop to stare off at the district. Then, you raise your hand to wave, eyebrows drawn together as you’re thinking.

Farewell District Four, you think, it’s been fun.

The second after you’ve stepped inside, the doors shut behind you. The train starts moving, and you can feel the shift in the air. You don’t stumble like Finnick, who has to put his hand on the wall to get a hold of himself again.

You stare at Finnick for a moment, unsure of how to approach this. Because you want to have him as a friend now, and have his back for as long as it will last. Which will hopefully be up until you’re bet against each other.

“Allies?” you ask hopefully, “Until we have to kill each other?”

“You’re start awfully early, don’t you think?” he doesn’t answer you initially, but he doesn’t waste too much time, “Yes, until we have to kill each other.”

“Glad to see you two are friendly,” Elysia says, interrupting us, “Your rooms are ready for you.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, beginning to walk towards yours, but Finnick doesn’t let you go so easily.

“You want to stick together?”

The last time you’ve talked to Finnick had to be at least a couple of weeks ago. When you have the time, it’s normally clipped, little things. Passing conversations, because there’s never enough time to have full ones. It’s during school, and hardly after unless you accidentally run into him in the square or something.

You and Finnick spend your time doing different things, sometimes. You have been trained in all things with water, with the best of Reed’s knowledge with only Mox to back him up on things. You’ve been tying and retying knots. Throwing spears, and harvesting water plants.

It’s required that Finnick do the same, but he has his own preferences. You see him with his favorite trident all the time, playing around with it. There was only one time you had seen him throw it, and when it had come out of the water, five different fish were speared. You’re not sure about the plants, but he has to know how to cook at least. And he has to know his fair share of knot tying, but you’re not sure what he knows.

Reed tried to cover every single one that he had heard of, and even went as far as to seek out the elderly in District Four to learn how they do things too. What they remember from the times when they had to fish for the Capitol. And then he would take that information, come home and teach it all to you. You weren’t expected to know all of it, but to absorb most of it.

While Finnick probably didn’t have to deal with that almost every night. You partially know this, because you’ve seen him around with the girls in his class. Finnick looks old for his age, which means that he’s growing into his face. He’s more attractive than all the boys in your grade, at least.

The sponsors will love him, and he has to know that somewhat.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“At the training, and stuff like that.” So, he means besides the arena.

“I don’t see why not.” you tell him, stopping in front of your room, your fingers find the ring and you fidget with it slightly, not used to the feeling on your finger, “Wake me for supper?”

He nods, giving you a big smile before he goes to his own room. You walk inside, listening as the doors shut behind you. The second that it’s gone, you head for the bathroom, sliding off the ring and placing it somewhere safe on the counter. Just for an extra measure, you pull up the tab that blocks water, so it doesn’t fall in and go down the drain.

You peel off your clothes, before hurrying inside of the shower that you started. You pull out your hair, letting the warm water wash over it. And while you’re standing there, you realize just how weak you feel from the entire thing. You can’t help but to sink into a sitting position, pulling your knees to your chest as you stare off at the wall for a while.

It must have been an hour you sat in there, just thinking about what it’s going to be like for the next couple of days. You’re not going to be thrown in just like that, you’re going to have to be presentable to the Capitol. You’re going to have to earn sponsors, and look like you have a chance at winning the games. You’re going to be forced to grit your teeth some more and smile. Tough it out until you’re finally inside of the arena.

You brush your hair carefully again, pulling it out of your face again. You look over the drawers carefully, and then you decide that a tank top and shorts will do you good. You want to feel comfortable here, for as long as possible. You want to hold on to what you would be doing at home. And then you grab the ring, putting it back on your finger.

Finnick comes to knock on your door, telling you that it’s time to eat. This is when you see he’s changed into something more comfortable too. He’s doing the same thing you are, because both of you are kids. You shouldn’t be thrown into the games, because you guys are so young. People under the age of sixteen hardly win.

Twelve and thirteen are the death years. If you get picked at those ages, you’re dead, there’s nothing you can do. Your body is so small, and you have no clue what to do still. They don’t have those years under their belt, they’re still struggling with the complicated knots.

Fourteen it gets better, but only by a little bit. No one has won at the age of fourteen, the youngest it gets is fifteen, and that year was a miracle. You weren’t able to see it, but Reed had explained it to you, that it was a particularly hard game. But the boy had won by waiting it out, and found a way to make the food and water last long. He killed only one person that year, and it was the girl that would have won

Sixteen and up, they have the best chances. They’re even better if they’re careers, which makes them deadly. If you run into anyone above the age of sixteen you can consider yourself dead, because they’ll overpower you so easily. The only chance you’ll have, is if there’s distance between the both of you and you have some sort of long-range weapon.

In the diner cart, sits Elysia and Mags. Mags watches as the both of you come into the room. Elysia looks over you guys with a squint, like she can’t believe that you’re dressed like that, and then she smoothes over, relaxing her face. Probably afraid of suddenly getting wrinkles.

The second you two have sat down, the food arrives. And it starts off slow, and all that Elysia has to tell you, is that more will keep coming, so eat slow and don’t take too much.

You follow just that, taking in all the different flavors, and how it’s so much more different than fish and bread every single night. With the occasion fish stew if the neighbor next door invited you over for dinner if you had brought her family a lot of fish that afternoon. Those nights, you’d think of them as feasts, because you would bring over more food to share and go around if you had it to spare. Eat like kings and queens, even if it was once a month.

After a certain amount of time, Finnick is tired of the silence, “Mags, when will you begin to mentor us?”

Your eyes drag across the table, landing on her. She struggles for a moment, and then she speaks. But the words are garbled, and it takes you a second to decipher them.

“Tomorrow morning.”

Finnick seems to understand as well as you have, so he nods and you guys go back to eating. Somewhere along the way, your stomach starts to feel upset, but you keep eating anyway. The more food you eat, the more pounds you’ll be able to tack on. More weight you’ll have on the others that will be thrown in the arena.

Once you’re done eating, Elysia brings you to the couch to watch the recap of the games. As much as you don’t want to watch all the children get reaped—and the rich kids volunteer—you know it’ll help you in the end. Let you size up the other tributes without being there in person. When you do finally get the chance tomorrow or the day after, you’ll see how tall they are and just how screwed you may be.

The girl that’s volunteered has clearly been training for a while. You watch as the muscles in her arms tense, and then release like she’s purposely flexing to show off her strength. She’s taller, and because of how strong she is, it’s made her look bigger. However, that doesn’t stop her from being pretty. You mark her in your mind immediately, Trink is her name, she’s from District One.

With her is a boy that isn’t as impressive, most boys who volunteer are normally tall and muscular, so nothing stands out about him. For girls, it’s just not the same. They’ve been training for just as long, but most of the time they look harmless. It isn’t until they’re thrown into the games, when they show off their true nature.

The boy’s name is Lennox, and he’s definitely taller than you, because he easily towers over the girl next to him. If you’re taking guesses on ages, then the girl is sixteen and he’s the same age or seventeen. He looks older, but then again, so does Finnick and he’s fourteen.

You look at Finnick to see how he’s accessing this entire thing too. He’s thinking, staring at the screen with a straight face, and then he laughs. When he turns to look to you, he shakes his head, “Careers.”

He says the word as if it explains what he’s laughing about, and you turn to see just in time that Trink and Lennox are grinning at each other. Arms locked around the other, as they turn to their district to wave. Clearly they’re proud of where they’ll be coming from.

Another district to watch out for is the following, two. Another part of the careers, people that you’ll be expected to team up with to hunt and kill.

The girl is taller than the boy this time, and she holds her chin high. There’s this sickening grin on her face as she bares her chest out for everyone to see. She wants them to know that she’s just as proud. Her name is Eytelle, probably stolen from one of the Capitol people. Since two is one of the favored ones as well.

The boy looks strong though, his name is Allio. In his hand he holds a stick that he’ll turn over in his hand every now and then. You have to focus to see what he’s doing exactly, but when you catch the glint of the silver, you realize it’s not a stick. He’s playing with a knife.

“Are we allowed…?” you don’t finish the question, but Elysia picks up.

“No.” she says gruffly, shaking her head, “It’s supposed to be for safety. What is he thinking?”

You’re not sure if she’s referring to the male Capitol representative, or Allio. Who’s still playing with that knife, and you watch as it gets faster in his hand. Like it’s building up a climax, and then it cuts.

Three is technology, and it looks like the program hurries that up a little bit. Certain districts are going to be expected to do better, this will be one of them. They make the technology, they’ll know how to build weapons. They should do exceedingly well, and if the careers think any one of them have potential, they’ll be called on.

Next, it flips to your district, and this is when it slows down again. You watch as Elysia perks up, and Finnick leans forward, suddenly entranced by the sight. Again, you relive the moment when Elysia calls your name, and you watch as a couple of seconds pass, before you’re heading down the aisle.

What felt like an eternity to you, was only a few seconds for them. You thought that you had frozen to your spot while you were debating the chances of you running. To them, they thought that it was you realizing it was your name that was called or something. You watch as the emotion is cleared from your face the second that you begin walking and realize that there’s cameras.

On that stage you felt so small, but on the camera, you can clearly see that it’s not too bad. You look better than what you thought you would. Four is also part of the careers, but it’s very shaky when it comes to volunteers--hence why you nor Finnick got one--and they hardly ever team up with the pack as far as you’re concerned.

Four is a rich district, so hardly anyone starves, but you’ve had your own months when you were struggling to get used to the fact that it was only you and your brothers that were capable of gathering food. Eventually, you got very good at it again, and there’s always food stocked in the fridge. But you’ve felt starvation. Despite all that, you look healthy and well-fed. There’s no doubt that a few districts are going to be jealous of that fact, especially in the poorer parts.

There’s not much you know, you’re not allowed to talk to neighboring districts at all. But you do know that most live in poverty. And things like starvation aren’t so uncommon.

You hadn’t noticed this before, but your hands somehow found their way behind you, in the time that you had found where you needed to stand, and when Elysia went to call the boys name. Subconsciously, you were also baring your chest, almost like you were proud.

You laugh when you watch Finnick walk down the walkway again. He looks to you, to see what’s funny, “Do you always walk like that?”

Elysia must have lost focus somewhere along the way, because she blinks quickly and focuses her eyes again. Then she also laughs, “You’re almost strutting.”

He grins, face turning a little red as he shakes his head, “Does it look tough enough?”

“You look ridiculous.” but he makes up for it when he stands at the stage right next to you. That’s when the two of you look like real competitors, with you standing tall, trying to make yourself look capable. And Finnick, not even trying and he still looks intimidating.

The rest pass like a blur. District Five fuels the power, so they’re only a little favored when it comes to things. They’re healthy looking too. District Six is transportation, no one stands out. Seven is lumber, which is when you start focusing again. When you see how big the two tributes are again. You mark them off too, Cass--the girl--and Mac.

Eight is textiles, nothing interesting. Nine is grain, which means that the poor districts are starting. Ten is livestock, eleven is agriculture, and twelve is mining coal. None of them had sprouted any interest in your mind, they don’t look threatening to you. In particular, twelve is the worst. With wobbly knees and pale faces, they look like they’re going to pass out at any minute.

And then just like that Elysia snaps the tv off, and you’re left sitting there in silence. She waits for a moment, before jumping up, “I suggest you two go off to bed, tomorrow will be very important.”

You and Finnick watch as she leaves the room, and right on cue, you two turn towards each other.

“The boy and girl from one are definitely problems,” you begin, and he nods, agreeing, “The girl is bigger than usual, which means that she’ll pose a bigger challenge.”

“They should be the first to go if we can make it possible.”

But how would that be? They’re one person of course, but they’re as good as three. They make up for the districts with people that don’t know what they’re doing, that get killed in the very beginning. In order to get them off, that would mean that a lot of people would have to band together.

“Are you suggesting we gather other tributes?” you ask, almost baffled by the idea. The more people, the more tension and fear that someone will betray the other.

“No, not too many.” he says, straightening his back, “Enough to help.”

He must see potential in the districts you saw nothing in, “We’ll have a better chance at looking them over later.”

He nods, he knows this already, “One, two and five.”

“Maybe three,” you get up from where you’re sitting, feeling the weight of today suddenly pressuring your shoulders.

“Maybe three,” he repeats, standing up too, “Off to bed so soon?”

You roll your eyes a little bit, “Yeah, I’m tired. Aren’t you?”

“I couldn’t feel more awake.”

-- CHAPTER THREE --

The morning comes before you’re ready for it. You drag your feet when it comes to taking a quick shower, and you throw on the nearest outfit that makes sense. It won’t really matter once you’re inside of the Capitol. You’ll be torn to pieces and then rebuilt at first chance.

You shouldn’t be too far off now. In fact, you probably should have made it there overnight, District Four is one of the closest districts to the Capitol. The only thing between you and them is District One. That one isn’t very surprising, they should be in the Capitol for a day now. The train goes so quickly, there wouldn’t be a reason to keep them from going.

You’ll probably barely have enough time to eat breakfast before you’re being shoveled off the train.

With that thought, you place the ring back onto your finger as you head out to the dining car, or room. Once you make it there, you see that you’re not the last. Finnick and Mags are still nowhere to be seen. However, Elysia sits at the table, a black coffee in hand as she looks over something in her hand. She pays you no attention when you sit at the table.

Immediately, you’re served food. Most of it you recognize because of the special days the district gets to eat well on. Not like you don’t get to eat things like this all the time, but the special foods like pancakes are something you haven’t seen in a while. You carefully eat like you did yesterday, trying not to overdo it, but also get a good amount of food in you.

Finnick comes in not too long after, taking his seat as he also starts to eat. However, he’s basically inhaling it, as if he hasn’t eaten in days. You’re impressed for a while, until he starts to turn a little green. Only then do you begin laughing at him, and he offers you a sheepish smile.

“Hungry?” you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’ve been up for hours waiting to eat.” he tells you.

So he didn’t sleep last night, and that’s going to show. It took you a couple hours of tossing and turning, trying desperately to just get a little bit of time. Eventually, your body had decided that it might as well. You’re not in any danger just yet, you’re on a train to where the danger will start, but until then you’ll be fine.

“You need your sleep,” Elysia beats you to it, “But your stylists will cover it for now.”

Finnick offers her a small glance, and then he turns to you as if he’s disinterested with everything she has to say. It takes you a moment to realize that he’s not staring at you exactly, it’s past you. You turn to look over your shoulder to see that Mags is coming in now. She’s slow, and she looks like she’s struggling even with the cane she’s been provided with.

The peacekeepers take a step to help her, but you jump up before they have the chance. The mere thought of them touching her is disgusting to you. They work for the Capitol. They’re hugely ignorant and arrogant. They stand by and let all of this happen, hell, they’re coming from the districts around you.

Mags gives you a smile of appreciation, and Finnick helps out a little bit too when he sees how much trouble it is. With the help of you both, she gets seated and begins to eat. What you didn’t see before, is that she has a pad of paper, which she’s using one hand to write with, and the other to eat.

Her neat handwriting covers the paper, in a small paragraph. She turns the paper to you, and you tilt your head to read it. For a second, your mind blanks because it believes you’ve never read cursive before, but then it slowly comes back to you. You’re mouthing the words, picking up the paper as you take your time to hand it off to Finnick.

Lesson 1: Sponsors. Looking presentable for the Capitol people will be your greatest chance at survival. In order to do that, you’ll have to play up the act a little bit. Who are you?

It’s a simple question, but you find yourself struggling to answer. When you pass the paper back to her, she writes down one word beside it.

Personality?

Oh.

“What does it say?” Finnick asks, tilting his head, but he can’t see it anyway, he’s on the other end of the table.

“Personality.” you say for him, looking to Mags, “You mean like clever, smart…?”

She nods a little, and you look to the window for a moment, thinking. Allowing Finnick to get the chance to answer before you. What is your personality?

“Well, we have the same personality for the most part.” Finnick starts to answer for the both of you, “Smart with the basic district stuff, strong.”

“Deadly.” you add, and Mags raises her eyebrows a little bit, so you elaborate, “I throw spears, and I’ve seen Finnick with a trident.”

Finnick flushes for a second, but it clears out, “The trident is on special occasions. Mostly spears.”

You sit in silence, she writes, “What else?” you shake your head for a second, trying to come up with the adjectives, and then it comes back to you, “I’m considerate and kind. I have well manners.”

Mags writes all of this down, and you can see the word ‘humble’, and then she writes down damsel.

For a second, you’re not sure what you think of it, but you see it soon enough. Playing the innocent, damsel role and having everyone underestimate you. If they overlook you, then that gives you a better chance at winning.

“I can’t play that up,” you tell her, because you remember seeing yourself on the screen again, how you stood strong, “The reaping--”

Everyone looks like that, she writes, No one wants to be targeted.

And she’s right. All those people you had seen last night were trying to look bigger than they were. Except for the kids, when their shoulders would hunch in on themselves, trying to disappear. As much as possible, you’ll all try to look strong to be picked for an alliance. Those who aren’t picked are left to suffer.

This will throw Finnick’s entire plan off course. If you play damsel, then that means you have to downplay all your skills. Make it look like you’re incapable of winning. No sponsors, no alliance. The only person that’ll be able to save you is Mags and yourself. Maybe your brothers back home will somehow afford to send something your way.

You’ll have to purposely score low in training, to really lower the expectations. Mags might even go as far to tell your stylists not to do too well on yours and Finnick’s matching outfits.

Mags writes again while you’re thinking, and you read it so you can look to Finnick, “She wants to know about you.”

Finnick looks like he’s been waiting for his turn, “Strong, tall. Almost all the girls at school love me, so attractive--”

As he’s listing what he’s made of, you see one word for him. Cunning. He’s going to be playing up the tough arrogant act. He’ll be purposely showing off, he’ll be the one that gets all the sponsors. The alliance he proposed will be his, the careers will be tripping over their feet to get him in their pack.

Suddenly, you can’t help but to feel a little jealous, and detached.

Finnick is the boy, he’s going to be expected to win. But you have the age advantage, so they’ll also be looking to you to win. At least for some people, for others it doesn’t matter at all. Back home, they’ll be hoping that only one of you comes back in a casket.

“What’s my word?”

“Cunning,” you tell him quietly, invested in your food again. Your stomach has managed to settle, so you try to stuff it again, the more the better. You’re not sure when you’ll be able to eat after this.

The train car blacks out for a couple of seconds, and then light fills it again. Elysia looks over her shoulder, and then her face lights up as she hops up from her seat, “Home sweet home.”

You and Finnick move to the window, looking out it for a moment. Bright lights fill the car, blinding you. When you’ve blinked away the lights, you can see just how many Capitol people have come to the station to greet you two.

A sigh leaves you and for a moment you want to move away. And then, you realize that if you’re going for that damsel type, you have to look clueless. Like you’re always in a daze or something. So, you begin to wave the exact same moment Finnick does. And even through the thick walls of the train car, you can hear the roaring of their cheers.

Your stylist’s assistants are very nice, and they try to be as gentle as possible when it comes to what they have to do. For a minute they just stood and stared almost as if they had no clue on how to start with you. And then, they went straight to work. Removing every inch of hair from your body, besides what’s on your head.

Your hair is now silky smooth, and smells of strawberries. Your body is sore, but soft from how many bathes they’ve made you soak in. Your nails have been cleaned, filed and they have a very thin layer of nail polish on them. Only a little bit, because they were afraid that your main stylist would want to change that later.

Your eyebrows have been plucked, leaving you sculpted. They’ve applied some sort of teeth whitener, trying to make it scary white like theirs. A couple of times they’ve told you to straighten your back to stand tall. Only then did you realize that they were taking measurements, and after that you stood very still to allow the to.

“I think we’re all done now.” Cleo says, taking a step back to access you one last time, “Laurel is going to love you.”

She says nothing else, grabbing onto the arm of the girl that she was working with. You hadn’t heard much from her, she mostly listened as Cleo babbled on. With the occasion prompt to keep her talking. It’s almost as if she didn’t want to do any of it herself.

You rock on the table, back and forth as you stare at the wall ahead. Trying to imagine yourself winning the games. All that it’ll take to get to that point too. You find yourself regretting how you described yourself, even if you were being honest.

The door opens, revealing a very tall woman. Her hair is held back by a simple hairband, trying to keep it from her face, you’re guessing. It’s the same thing you do when you know it’ll be an irritating day. However, with these people it’s never irritating, they live in luxury. They’re all brightly colored and rich and they never have to worry about going hungry, ever.

She wears a white shirt, and a black blazer. Her pants are ironed nearly, and she has a pair of black heels on. The second she steps into the room, she slips them off though, only lowering her height just a little bit. She’s naturally tall it seems, and she seems proud of it. Not afraid to get bigger.

“I’m Laurel.” she introduces herself, “(Y/n), right?”

She has to know that it’s you, “Yeah.”

“Stand up for me?” she asks, and you slip off the table, standing in front of her. She walks around you, looking at your body, taking all of it into consideration. Laurel will stare for a moment, and then she’ll move your hair. She checks your nails to see that they’re very neat, and she seems pleased with that, “Take your robe.”

You reach over for it, slipping it on and then folding your arms over your chest anyway. You almost want to hunch in on yourself like you saw the kids doing at the reaping. But then, you remove your arms and make yourself stand a bit taller. Reminding yourself that you need to have more worth, carry that energy until it’s not carrying anymore. Until it is you.

“Mags tells me that you’re going for a more subtle look.” Laurel sits down on a nice couch, you make sure to tuck the robe beneath you as you sit, “Humble?”

You nod lightly, “I think she’s going for an underestimated look.”

“And do you feel the same?”

You dodge the question a little bit, “Finnick is going for cunning, isn’t he? I want to be presented the same way he does, but I wouldn’t mind if we did something along the lines of humble.”

She takes this into consideration, nodding lightly, “How would you feel about a two-piece? Almost like a bathing suit?”

You really hope you don’t end up in some skin-showing outfit, “Sure.”

She nods to this, looking pleased, “Blue, definitely blue.”

It’s only a couple of hours later, when you’re standing side-by-side with Finnick. He looks like he’s more in a bathing suit than you do. They’ve completely taken his shirt, and just put on a tunic almost, for his lower half. His designer has gotten him covered with vines, some drawn on and some of them real. It’s supposed to look like he’s came out of the water, like he’s been there for a while.

As a joke, you suggested dying him a blue-green because of how copper fades. His stylist considered it for a moment, even turning to Laurel to ask if it were possible to do it in an hour. But then Finnick piped up that he did not want to be a shade of green, and glared at you. It was all in good fun and he knows that. Didn’t stop him from jabbing you in your ribs when he had the chance.

You and Finnick are wearing nearly the same pair of leather sandals. Yours only goes up to your ankles, as his surrounds his calves, stopping just a little bit below the knee. He has that tunic around his waist, which wrinkles in all the right places, and it’s pinned to keep from falling.

Laurel had already built off of the bathing suit idea, deciding that you were worth more than just a pair of half-naked teenagers. She kept the aspect, but added a couple of things to it. On your upper body, your hair is curled to look more natural, going for the beachy-type but not exact. Macara, blue eyeshadow, the works go on your face. They’d outdone themselves with the white eyeliner, purposely tying to give you a goddess aspect, you guess?

You definitely know they were going Roman, even if it’s just a little bit.

They secured a bracelet around your upper arm, it’s a couple of waves. On your upper half of your body, you have a bra on almost. But the straps are thick, and the padding pushes it all up. It’s tight around the ripbs, keeping it from lifting off your chest, as they tried to show off some curves. It ends somewhere in the middle of your ribs.

And as for your waist, she decided for a high-waisted short bottom. Attached to it is a train almost. The flaps are attached to your left hip, giving it a sort-of leg slit. But the fabric is see-through, so it’s not much. The entire color scheme is a muted sea green. On your wrists are silver bracelets, on your neck is a lone shell necklace. Laurel had successfully acquired your ring, adding it to the outfit, even if the people from the stands won’t be able to see it exactly.

Laurel and Finnick’s stylist have you and Finnick walk around. Making small adjustments to everything so it flows better. In no time, you’re told to get onto your chariot with the blonde horses. Before you guys take off, Laurel makes one very last minute change.

She makes you wrap your arms around Finnick’s left one. Your right arm goes under, closest to his body. That one will stay permanently, and your left arm goes over, which will be the one you wave with and such.

“This is so exciting,” Finnick chirps, a smile already coming over his face, and then, “Oh!”

He reaches into a pocket that you didn’t know he had, and he pulls out a small sugar cube. You laugh, taking it with your left hand as you turn it over for a second. When you look over, the both of you share a look, before popping the sugar in your mouths at the same time.

The sweet taste takes over your tongue immediately, and you can’t help but grin. As you turn to look off to the ground, you watch as the audience turns to see the newcomers coming in.

The cheering gets louder, and then there’s pointing. You smile with your teeth, giving a wave, while also trying to think of embarrassing things. It takes a moment, but it all comes rushing back, and you find your face heating up very quickly.

“She’s blushing!” one of them yells, there’s a series of screams and ‘awing’ that follow after, and Finnick laughs.

“You play the act well.”

“For you it’s not even an act.” you say through clenched teeth, making sure the smile reaches your eyes.

Every single time you hear someone yell your name, you turn to look in that direction. If you’re going to get sponsors, you’ll want them to each every single bit of this shit up. You make surprised faces, cover your mouth, cower into Finnick and let him pretend to coax you out. The cheering only gets louder, until their attention is turned back to the newcomers.

When the chariot stops, you feel your face cooling considerably, and you sigh in relief, because it’s hard to keep thinking of embarrassing things. Once you bring up the effect again, it’s almost as if it’s useless. All those memories are so faded, that it’s hard to even think of them anymore. You hardly ever make bad mistakes like that.

You wait patiently as Snow makes his appearance and says his piece about everything. The anthem plays, you guys show up as you watch the flag. And then, there’s one final lap around the little circle, before you guys have vanished inside of the building.

There, Laurel and the other stylist are waiting for you. Laurel nods at you approvingly, probably glad that you still held on even though it wasn’t really necessary anymore. You slide off of the chariot with Finnick, stretching your arm. You cross them back over your chest, as you look around.

Soon enough, your prep teams are slowly distancing themselves, standing off to the side. Which offers a perfect opportunity for the others to see, measure you and Finnick up. You do the same, because the only other times you’ll see them is for training, and then later for the interviews. These moments where you over or underestimate them are crucial.

District one has a clear eye on you and Finnick.

“Trink and Lennox are staring.” You tell Finnick, trying not to look over, but he looks them dead on, almost like he doesn’t care.

He waves for a second, beckoning them over. You’re about to tell him that it’s a really bad idea, but they start their way over. So, you place the mask back on, and take a step back, allowing Finnick to do whatever it is he thought he wanted to do.

“Finnick,” He introduces himself, offering his hand.

Lennox looks to Trink for a moment, almost impressed as he takes Finnick’s hand, shaking it a couple of times, “Lennox.”

Of course, you know their names already, so it seems a little useless to introduce yourselves. But then it dawns on you, that they probably don’t know your names.

You make a feeble attempt to do the same, “I’m (Y/n).”

“Oh, we know.” Trink’s smile transforms into a smirk, “Gallows, huh? Like getting hung from the gallows…”

You hate her already.

You laugh lightly, trying to bring the smile to your eyes again, “I guess! I never made that connection before! It’s only fitting now that I’m in the games, huh? Do you think I have a chance?”

What if you play damsel until it comes to the private session with the gamemakers. What if you show off your skills then, score high, and then see what happens to the tributes around you. See if their sudden interest sparks and they want you on their side after all.

You wonder how Reed would feel about you teaming up with the careers. If he would be telling you to steer away from them, because they’re hostile, and vile and sometimes a little messed up in the head from all that training at a young age. It makes them want to volunteer, no sane person could truly want that unless they’ve been brainwashed.

Trink shares a look with Lennox for a second, and then behind her you see that the crowd is about to have two more people added to it, as District Two comes over here. You slump your shoulders slightly, tilting your head at the newcomers. Eytelle and Allio, the tall girl and the boy who spun the knife in his hand during the reaping.

“Are these four?” Allio asks, you take the guess now that he’s going to be the chattier one.

Eytelle is… the only comparison you can make with her, is that she’s shorter than Laurel, but not by much. Her parents must be giants, because if she’s only sixteen or so she’ll keep growing for a while. The height will give her an advantage when it comes to running, but she’ll have trouble trying to hide so easily.

“Clearly.” Trink mutters, looking over you a little more, “So what’s your skills?”

“That’s for us to know and for you to find out.” Finnick answers for both of you, “We don’t give shit away so easily. What are we getting in return?”

Trink measures this, but Allio speaks first, “Maybe a friendship if you play your cards right.”

A smile spreads over your face, as you try to look excited, “Wow! An alliance, that’ll be helpful!”

Lennox looks pleased at the suggestion, “Only if you want.”

Finnick offers you a glance, and you bob your head, trying to urge him to agree but not look desperate. This is what he wanted after all, and if you careers band together, then there’s no doubt that all of you will get a good portion of the population inside of the arena down before you know it.

You’re already forming a plan in your head. Team up with the careers, get to know all of their skills that they’ll show off inside of the training center. There, you will memorize everything, while also learning new skills. Then, when it comes to the arena, you’ll plot their murders very carefully. You’ll pick them off very carefully, space them so it doesn’t look like your fault.

But this would all work so much better if only one of you were in the pack. Finnick lures them to you, you kill them, injure him a little bit, and send him back to get the others riled up.

It’s not a bad plan, you’ll just have to work out the kinks, and present this to Finnick.

He is your accomplice.

-- CHAPTER FOUR --

This morning, Elysia had come to your room to wake you up. For a second, you thought she was doing it so that you’d be early to the table like you normally are. But she was kind enough to inform you that you had slept in past what she wanted already. Mags has been the only reason you’ve been allowed to stay in bed for so long.

As you got ready, you were a little confused on how you’d managed to sleep for so long. You're normally one of the people first awake, especially here. Once your body decides that it has enough energy to run off of, it sort of just wakes you up. You’ve been sleeping soundly every single night, as far as you know. So the exhaustion is coming out of nowhere.

It wasn’t until you had brought it up to them, where Finnick had informed you that you hadn’t slept as soundly as you thought. After you had eaten dinner last night, you’d stayed awake a little while to bring up the plan to Finnick, to get his opinion about luring them to their deaths. He seemed to like it, and then you went off to sleep in your own room.

He says that it must have been a couple of hours before the screaming had started. The first to the room was Mags, but she wasn’t able to get you up, since speaking is difficult for her. Instead, Finnick had to shake you awake, coaxing you out of whatever nightmare you had been trapped in.

You don’t remember any of it, it’s impossible for you to recall what happened. Elysia says that you must have been asleep still, but Finnick and Mags says you were coherent. You could hear them, and you listened to them try to calm you down from hyperventilating. Once you were in a good enough state, Mags went back to bed, and Finnick stayed a little while.

He just wanted to make sure that you would go back to sleep, but it had taken a while for you to calm down enough to get your heart to stop producing the adrenaline. Finnick tried to sit in the silence, but he wanted to know what the nightmare was about. What had gotten you to the point of screaming and hyperventilating.

You can’t remember it now, even though you’re awake and most of the time can relive the dream a little bit. It was apparently about you drowning, and that was all that you’d tell him. There had to be more though, because you’re not afraid of the water, you live in District Four. To be afraid of drowning would be so fucking ridiculous.

You have a feeling that it was about you taking your father's place in the accident, again. It’s a common nightmare you have. You’ll be on the boat with your brothers, and everything will be going good. But the boat will rock when one of you try messing with the other. Mox gets knocked off, you scramble to save him only to fall off the side. In the water, he’s nowhere to be seen. And then Reed will turn on the boat, leaving you in the middle of the water. The water only gets colder the more time goes on, and your joints will freeze in place. Swimming back to shore is impossible and you die out there, every single time.

You didn’t bother to explain all of that to Finnick, because you’re not looking for pity, it’s no point for him to know your life story. Instead you nodded along and went back to eating, because you then knew why you had been so exhausted. All it takes is one nightmare and a couple of shots of adrenaline to keep you going for a long ass time apparently.

Mags then transitioned into the training that you’re actually in right now. She pulled out her paper and pen and asked if you guys would want to train together. You told her that you’d already formed an alliance with him, so it would be pointless to hide anything. Finnick agreed, and then Mags went on to explain to hide most of your skills.

Just as you predicted anyway. She had wanted you guys to keep it low on the profile, especially you. Mainly she wants you to play dumb and go around with the stations, fumble with most of the things you do but take your time with learning them. She also knows of the career pack proposal, so she reminds you to keep friendly with them too, if that’s going to be your goal.

Of course, she doesn’t want you guys to get too attached or close. Don’t trust them because the chances of them turning on you at first chance is a little too easy. It will only be a matter of time in the arena before the tension snaps at they make a jump to kill any of you. You already know this. If you go through with the plan, then that means that they're going to be suspicious of everyone in the pack anyway.

Finnick is supposed to be good at everything inside of the training center. But as you watch him circle and go around the stations with Allio and Lennox, you can’t help but to think he looks like an idiot. Allio is more skilled in combat than you guys are, he can throw just about anything a good distance. Lennox seems to be the same.

You’ve watched as they make him throw spears, knives, axes, swords, just to see how good he is at it. They’re looking impressed, but you’re starting to see through Finnick’s facade. He keeps making a wince face each time he thinks he’s thrown it too terribly, his confident mask is falling too easily.

“Wow, look at her.” Trink says, you look up from the fire that you’re trying to start to see that they’re staring dead straight at the girl from District Eleven. You squint for a second to see what she’s doing, and then you smile.

“Thyme, right?” Eytelle asks, her arms are crossed over her chest, and she hunches over like she’s trying to make herself look like you’re all in the same height range, “She’s showing off.”

“Aren’t we all?” you ask, turning back to the fire, getting it started this time. Trink turns over, and you clap quickly, the smile turning to a grin as you look to the other two girls, like a proud kid, “I did it!”

“Took you a while.” Eytelle mutters, “What are you actually skilled at?”

“Besides fires, and knot tying.” Trink adds.

You have to show off at least one skill to get these people interested, “I can show up Finnick with the throwing.”

Trink perks up, “Show us.”

You push yourself up from your knees, starting your way to where the boys are. On the way, you make eye contact with Thyme. She has dark hair, brown-black it looks like. She’s tan, fairly tall, green eyes. She’s got to be the same age as you, because she looks young.

“I hear that District Eleven and Twelve have the skilled hunters--or at least they know what berries and leaves are safe to eat.” you tell them, “Thyme will be very useful.”

Eytelle scoffs, “Who says we can’t hunt actual food? Like meat?”

“What happens when there’s a storm, when all the fish and forest animals are out of the question? Berries, leaves, bark and all of that will save your lives instead. Turning someone like her down simply because she comes from a poor district is…. Stupid.” you tell them, and then you stalk off to join the guys for real.

“Hey Finnick!” he turns while he’s about to throw a knife, Allio and Lennox give you a quick look up and down. You haven’t really talked to them this entire time. Over your shoulder, you can see Eytelle approaching Thyme, while Trink bounces over.

“Well, go ahead.”

You hold out your hand for the knife that Finnick is holding. He gives you a warning look almost, like you don’t know what you’re doing, before handing it over. You give him a cheeky smile, “Watch and learn.”

You flip the knife around to hold it by the blade. Taking in a deep breath, you slowly let it out because you can’t fuck this up. And then, you draw your arm back, before throwing the knife forward with all the strength possible.

The knife covers the twenty feet in less than three seconds, hitting the dummy square in the head. You tilt your head slightly, “It’s a little off center.”

“Off center? You hit that thing….” Allio trails off, and you turn around to see Finnick with a smirk on his face.

Thyme is standing with Eytelle, and she claps a little bit for you, “Can you teach me to throw like that?”

“Sure!” you turn to look at the others, letting Trink narrow her eyes on you. She might be seeing through the act a little bit, “It’s the one thing I’m good at, I’ve had so much time to learn in District Four. I’ll teach Finnick too if you guys wanna go off by yourselves.”

They agree, heading off to some sort of other place they can show off at. Once they’ve gotten out of earshot, the smile on your face drops and you mock them for a second, grabbing the nearest knife. You throw it, and it hits the chest this time, “Thinking I can understand them just because--god are they annoying.”

Finnick snorts, before turning to look at Thyme, “Finnick, this is (Y/n).”

“I’ve heard.” She chirps happily, picking up one of the knives before turning to you, “When do we get started?”

You spend the next hour or so showing your new friend how to throw. Finnick isn’t so bad, it’s just the doubt that gets him. You tell them both that the less confidence they have in the throw, the worse it’ll turn out. Plus, throwing the knife is better than nothing in most situations anyway. If you have more tucked away, then it won’t hurt.

If the person is within your range, then the best you can do is at least try. It could turn out really well and you end up nailing them like you should. Or it could be horrible, land somewhere close to them. But you could call that a warning and say you did it on purpose later on.

Thyme turns out to be really nice, and she explains how Eytelle approached her. This is when you inform her that it was your idea, no matter what Eytelle had told her. To have her with you guys could put her in danger, but you’re all going to die anyway. She’s an outlying district, the chances of her winning is already slim. You basically just gave her a chance.

She’s already picked up on your act the second that the others come back around to check up on you. This is when Finnick lets them know that you’re really skilled at it, despite failing in all the other stations you’d managed to hit while walking around with them. Except for the obvious ones with knot tying, starting the fire and all of that.

Lennox jokingly asks what rock you’ve been living under for these past years, as if he can’t believe that you have no clue what you’re doing at all. But you just offer him a smile and shrug, saying that you don’t really have time for other things like that. You muse that if it weren’t for the fact that they’re agreeing for an alliance that you’d probably die in there alone.

They seem satisfied with that, and even though you hadn’t thanked them by any means, they say ‘you’re welcome’ and move on. This is when you and Finnick hang back.

Soon, you get bored of training, and you’re about to wave Thyme off, before she asks if she’s really included in the alliance. You tell her that it looks like it, and they wouldn’t have let her tag around, much less offered if they were kidding. She looks pretty satisfied, and you tell her to make friends with the others too. If this this fails then she’ll want an escape plan.

After that you leave the training center with Finnick, take the elevator up to your district floor, and go in to see that Laurel is showing off designs to Mags.

“Oops, are we walking in on something?” you ask, and Laurel looks over with a smile, “Not at all, welcome back.”

“Dinner will be served in an hour.” Elysia mutters, looking over from the tv.

“She’s telling us that we think and should probably shower.” Finnick whispers to you, Mags hears this and laughs.

She nods slightly, before shooing the both of you out the room as soon as Finnick’s stylist shows up behind you guys. It looks like they want to keep your interview outfits a surprise. It makes sense, they’re all about surprises and being prestigious. They think the outfits matter--because they do--but you don’t have that same taste. Neither does Finnick.

Back home you two would probably settle for a shirt and a pair of jeans. The occasion jacket, a nice pair of comfortable boots, and then that would be it. There’s not much to do around four, so there wouldn’t be a reason to dress up besides reaping day. You spend most of your time in a boat or in water.

Which means that you’re not even wearing boots, it would be a pair of sandals. If it’s cold in the morning, then your toes freeze and you just have to deal with it. Either you tuck your feet beneath you or shut up and just be cold. There’s a good possibility that you get thrown overboard by accident or on purpose. Or you’re spearing fish in the shallow, jeans being pulled up to your calves as you wade through the water.

You and Finnick stop outside your doors again, and he leans up against the wall.

“Allio and Lennox are annoying.”

“Stuck up?” you ask, a smile spreading over your face.

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t even think that word fits them. They think everyone inside of the arena is going to be easy to kill. That I’m probably going to be the only one who poses a threat.”

Your eyebrows raise, “They’re buying my act?”

“They don’t even think it’s an act. They think that you’re geniunely stupid and you’re just getting lucky with some of the things you know.”

That’s fair, you’re trying to play up the dumb damsel thing. You have to have one skill that will impress the gamemakers, and that will be just about it. If they keep you around for your skill to kill people, then that’ll be good enough. As long as you’re around.

“That’s good.”

“Anything about the other two? Trinket and Eyeball?” he purposely gets their names wrong.

You snort, “They’re buying it as good as the other two. I managed to convince them to invite Thyme, which I think will turn out handy.”

“How did you do that anyway?”

“Simply told them that if we run low on food and can’t find any animals, then berries and leaves is gonna be all that we have. So, she’ll be our best bet.”

He’s impressed, “Smart.”

“Yeah, I know. Any of the others show potential?”

“The boy from three, he’s been making things in the corner. Saw him make a knife from a stick, some vine and a rock.” Finnick tells you.

So he’ll definitely be dangerous. He’ll know how to make his own weapons from absolutely nothing. You wonder what else he knows how to make. If he can make knives, then there’s a possibility for a bow, spears, axes. Just depends on what setting you’re all going to be placed in.

“The others seem pretty reserved, or they’re not showing off what they can do.” Finnick yawns.

“Finally tired?” you tease.

“After sitting with you all night? Hell yeah I am.” he stretches, and then relaxes, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Yeah,” you wave him off, before going to your room.

You sit on the floor mainly, staring out the window, watching as the people below celebrate the games already. All you can think about is your family back home, and how they’re all holding up. You hope that Reed isn’t being too hard on Mox. You’re hoping that Mox hasn’t been crying this entire time, because there’s nothing to be worried about. You wonder if Alyssum notices that you’re gone.

You have a greater chance now. With an alliance forming, with learning all the new things that Thyme had taught you when she brought you to her special station. Showed you all the berries and leaves she could afford to before the others had come around again.

It’s almost like she didn’t want to show them, which is really fair. She doesn’t trust them as much, and you don’t either. But it also doesn’t make sense because technically you and Finnick are careers anyway. It could be because of the fact that you’re playing two different personalities, that you’re actually not stupid and just using them. Or it could be from a different reason that you don’t know.

She’s really nice though, and you’re glad that you suggested her. She shows promise, she learns really quickly. It took only a couple of minutes for her to learn to throw properly. It was just her doubt that was holding her back for the rest of the time.

When you disband the careers, you hope that she’ll stick with you. But when it comes down to the end, you don’t want to be the one that kills her. She’s too nice, she even told you a little bit about her family back home.

The more you get to know someone, the less you want to actually kill them, and that’s the painful part. If you were to get to know everyone that’s going to be thrown in, then you’ll feel bad. Except for Trink, Eytelle, Allio and Lennox, though. They volunteered and they’ve been training for this their entire lives.

It’s hard to feel bad for them. They leave everything they have behind just so that they can get the glory of a victor house. Infinite amounts of money, even though they basically already have that, since they’re rich. They just want to have their names be known for the generations to come. Be the ones to train the next pair of tributes that come on the train.

You don’t know how they’d want that at all. All they do is get the pain of watching the tributes die after they fail to do it properly. Then again, career. Volunteering. They almost always win. The works.

This really is going to suck.

LACUNA IS THE FIRST VERSION OF BELAMOUR

//MASTERLIST//

#ilguna #finnick odair #lacuna #lacuna chapter one #lacuna chapter two #lacuna chapter three #lacuna chapter four

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yelena-bellova · 4 years

Text

Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Nine

(gif not mine, credit to the original creator)

Chapter Nine: Not Even Death Could Break Us

Series Masterlist

Plot: Reader returns to the Resistance base and recieves a welcome surprise.

Warnings: Fluff, fluff and more fluff.

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: Here’s your reward for sitting through weeks of angst because we’re jumping right back into it next chapter. ENJOY!!

--------------

“Commander Solo requesting clearance to land.”

I waited for a response as we flew above the familiar forests of D’Qar. I wished they’d have brought me the same level of comfort they typically did. Today, they just looked like trees rather than a reminder of home.

“Landing permitted. Welcome back, Commander.”

I tried to focus on adjusting controls as the base came into view but my father’s voice broke my concentration,

“Commander Solo.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing,” he said as his chest rumbled with a small laugh, “I’ve just never seen you as a Commander.”

“Well, I’d never seen you as a smuggler till today,” I replied with a faint sideways smile.

We were coming up on the base along with several X-Wings, I spotted Mom’s transport had just parked and was emptying. We landed easily amidst the other ships and as Dad powered down the ship, I stared off out the cockpit window. Everyone was rushing around yet I couldn’t find the strength in me to muster up similar energy. Not when I was about to face fighting a war without Poe.

“Alright, guess we’re doin’ this,” Dad remarked, turning to face me.

“You go ahead,” I replied monotonously, “I just...need a minute.”

“Sure,” Dad answered before standing up and placing a kiss on the top of my head.

After he’d exited, I buried my face in my hands and tried to keep my tears at bay. I needed to be Commander Solo now, the General’s daughter. Not Y/n Organa-Solo, the broken-hearted sob story. Poe would want me to walk into the command center, head held high, and ready to start giving orders. That seemed almost impossible at the moment, but I owed it to him to at least try. People were depending on me just on the other side of the ship and I couldn’t disappoint them.

I rubbed my eyes, smacked the armrest of my chair, and hoisted myself up. I took a quick look around the main area of the ship to see if Finn or Chewie were still there, everyone was already out. With no more ways to stall, I left the comfort of the Falcon and headed out into the uncertainty of war. I saw Mom from a distance heading inside with Chewie and Dad in tow. Around me, pilots were talking to their mechanics about what repairs needed to be done on their ships. And then I saw Finn a couple of hundred feet away from me, hugging someone with BB-8 at their feet. Finn didn’t know anybody here but us as far as I knew. He looked as if he was speaking urgently to the person and after a second, he turned and broke the embrace revealing his companion.

Poe.

I wanted to blame dehydration or lack of food, it could’ve easily been a hallucination. But it was undeniably him, I knew that as soon as our eyes met across the tarmac. Standing in his bright orange pilot’s uniform, jaw dropped at the sight of me, it was him. No matter how impossible, Poe was standing right in front of me.

Maz’s words had been right.

He kept his promise.

Poe took off at full speed towards me with no regard for the confusion he was causing. My feet began to carry me towards him in response like some magnetic force was pulling us together. We collided into one another with such force I should have cried out in pain, but instead, I whined in happiness. My arms wrapped around his neck and held on with a grip that death itself couldn’t break. His arms were wound tight around my waist and his face was blissfully buried in the crook of my neck.

“Sweetheart,” Poe whispered against my skin, reality setting in and causing my tears to fall in time with his.

“I thought I lost you,” I sobbed softly as one of my hands found itself in his hair, “I-I thought you were dead.”

Poe pulled back to look at my face but never did his hands let go of my waist. He wasn’t going to let me go any time soon and I didn’t take one issue with it,

“I thought so too for a while, so much happened that I have to tell you,” he said, his thumb softly rubbing the tears off my cheek, “But I’m here, I’m here.”

Despite my blurry vision, I could finally get a good look at him. He had a few scrapes that were already fading. It looked like his lip had been cut but was already healing. Nothing like how he’d looked in the dream I’d had. He looked just as I’d left him, tearful and shaken but for only good reasons this time.

“I told you I’d come back for you.”

I let out a sob of joy as I pressed my forehead against his, savoring the sensation of our breaths mingling together. In a surge of adrenaline, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. It didn’t take him more than five seconds before reciprocating, making me smile and sink even deeper in. Our lips moved in sync with one another’s as if we’d shared a thousand kisses. Our bodies molded against each other as if they were meant to perfectly. For a few wonderful seconds, there was no war, just me and Poe.

We broke apart breathless, but I still pushed out the words that desperately needed to be said, “I love you.”

After catching his breath, Poe lifted my chin with a gentle finger, his chocolate brown eyes searching mine for any hint of falseness. Maybe to make sure it wasn’t a heat of the moment thing to say rather than a deep-seeded confession. All he’d find was affection and quite a few happy tears. I’d never seen him grin so widely,

“I love you too, so much...” he whispered before meeting my lips again, this time with more tenderness. We’d both experienced so many harsh things in the past day or so, one gentle moment was more than welcome. He pulled away after a few seconds, “What brought this on?”

I laughed as I brushed a finger at the tear stains down his face, “So many things that we don’t have time to talk about now. But I was stupid to not see it sooner.”

Poe chuckled, “You weren’t stupid, sweetheart,” he said softly, “Just a little bit behind me.”

I smiled and pecked his lips gently, they were gorgeously swollen by now. Judging by his smile, he didn’t mind...

“As much as I want to stay here kissing you, we’ve got work to do.” I stated.

“Yeah, we do,” Poe said determinedly, “And as soon as it’s done, we’re going to be doing a whole lot more of this.”

He gave me a final kiss, one that left me weak in the knees and gripping his biceps for stability. We broke apart and I’d never been so happy to see his smirk,

“Yeah,” I cleared my throat, “I think we will.”

Poe grabbed my hand and we jogged back to where he’d left Finn. He was standing there, definitely trying to look like he hadn’t seen our reunion,

“Finn buddy, come with us. We gotta introduce you to the General.”

“And we need to form a plan to go get Rey.” Finn said to me as the three of us marched toward the base.

We made our way through the halls swiftly, I ignored passerby’s wide-eyed stares at Poe’s and my intertwined hands and focused on Finn. Though his thoughts were solely about Rey, he couldn’t hide the childlike wonder in his eyes at the base. He’d never experienced goodness in his life and now it was everywhere he looked. Though its was all new to him, I could tell he was already one of us. The three of us stepped down into the command center and I spotted my mother conversing with officers,

“General Organa,” Poe called, “Sorry to interrupt, but this is Finn, he needs to talk to you.”

“And I need to talk to you,” Mom said warmly, addressing Finn, “That was incredibly brave what you did, renouncing the First Order, saving this man’s life, helping my daughter…”

Finn looked a little surprised that the information had reached her so quickly, “Thank you, ma’am, but a friend of ours,” he gestured between the two of us, “was taken prisoner.”

“Han told me about the girl, I’m sorry,” she replied.

“General,” I spoke up, “We need to make a plan to get Rey back however, Finn worked on the First Order’s base and is familiar with the weapon that toke out the Hosnian system.”

“We’re desperate for anything you can tell us.”

“That’s where she was taken, we need to get there fast.” Finn replied, urgency in his voice. He wanted to help us, but saving Rey was his first priority.

“And I will do everything I can to help,” Mom answered, “But first you must tell us all you know.”

“They go hand in hand,” I added, “We can’t get Rey unless we know about where we’re going.”

Finn looked to me and nodded determinedly, “Okay.”

Mom left us with a polite smile to go stand amongst beside Dad, 3PO and BB-8, she was going to examine the map. Squeezing Poe’s hand, I broke apart from him and Finn to go and join her,

“I didn’t get the opportunity to talk to you about the map. It’s not exactly what we thought it was.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion as 3PO took the drive from BB-8 and inserted it into one of the computers. As I drew a breath to explain, the map appeared holographically in front of us and I was too late.

“General,” C-3PO explained, “I regret to inform you, but this map recovered from BB-8 is only partially complete. And even worse, it matches no charted system on record. We simply do not have enough information to locate Master Luke.”

I sighed heavily, “That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

She looked wildly disappointed, we all were, but it ran deeper for her. This was family, this was years of hope washed down the drain. This had been her only shot at bringing her brother back,

“I can't believe I was so foolish to think that I could just find Luke and bring him home.”

I placed a hand on her back as my dad leaned forward, “Leia…”

“Don’t do that…” she replied, shaking her head in disapproval.

“Do what?”

“Anything,” she answered as she walked away from us. I turned to my father who looked defeated, he was truly trying with her. He followed her like it was reflex but I hung behind, they’d been reunited and that was enough for me. I didn’t need to listen to their conversation like a child trying to spy, no matter how tempting it was. I simply leaned against the computer and rubbed my face anxiously.

“Hey,” Poe’s voice made me look up, “What’s going on?”

“You know that map you and I went through hell to get?” I asked sarcastically, crossing my arms.

“I’m vaguely familiar with it, yes.”

“Well, turns out we only retrieved a piece of it.”

Poe exhaled and ducked his dead down, “Fantastic…”

“I thought we had a shot,” I mumbled as I shook my head, “But we’re no closer than we were a week ago.”

“That may be true,” he replied before grasping both my arms, “But the most important thing is that we made it out alive.”

I nodded, “There were a few too many close calls for my taste.”

Poe raised an eyebrow, “Such as?”

I chortled, “Getting chased by Stormtroopers, fighting off TIE’s, running from Rathtars, the scene at Maz’s castle…Is that enough for you?”

“A little too much,” he replied as he rubbed my arms softly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you.”

“You’re here now,” I smiled, still getting used to him being here and whole, “That’s all that matters. You did miss me flying the Falcon though…”

I left him, smirking, as I heard him cry out “What?!”

—————

A short while later, Resistance leadership (plus Dad, Chewie and Finn) was gathered around a map table staring at a hologram. Snap had been on a recon mission and had brought back information on the weapon the First Order used to destroy the Hosnian system. I was stood next to my father, who seemed to have slid right back into his old militia role with ease. Poe stood across from me, the chatter in the room went silent as he cleared his throat to begin,

“The scan data from Snap’s reconnaissance flight confirms Finn’s report.”

“They’ve somehow created a hyper lightspeed weapon built within the planet itself.” Snap explained.

“A laser cannon?” Major Brance asked from next to me.

“We’re not sure how to describe a weapon of this scale.” Snap replied.

Major Ematt looked like he was having a war flashback, “It’s another Death Star…”

“I wish that were the case, Major,” Poe sympathized as he hit a button that displayed a wireframe of the aforementioned battle station, “This was the Death Star.”

He hit another control and we all watched the Death Star shrink in comparison to the gargantuan holo on display, “And this is Starkiller Base.”

Gasps and groans filled the air, there wasn’t even a comparison to make. This was nothing any of us, young recruit or veteran, had ever seen before.

“So it’s big.” Dad mused nonchalantly, leave it to him to act cool about something like this.

“How is it possible to power a weapon of that size?” Admiral Ackbar inquired.

Finn stepped up to the table, “It uses the power of the sun. As the weapon is charged, the sun is drained until it disappears.”

An officer approached my mother and handed her something, she looked over it before looking up at the group,

“The First Order, they’re charging the weapon again now,” her eyes found mine, “Our system is the next target.”

I drew a shaky breath as others reacted similarly. A few hours ago I was a few hundred feet away from my brother and now him and his followers were coming to kill us. I caught Poe’s eyes and we shared a concerned look.

“Okay,” Dad began, racking his brain for something helpful, “How do we blow it up? There’s always a way to do that.”

“Han’s right,” Mom replied, causing both me and Dad to look over to her in surprise. For just a second, the three of us felt like a united front again.

“In order for that amount of power to be contained,” Admiral Statura began, “That base has to have some sort of thermal oscillator.”

“There is one,” Finn stated, he walked over to join Poe at the controls, “Precinct 47,” he pointed towards an area in the structure, “Here.”

“If we can destroy that oscillator,” Statura continued as he paced around the table, “It might destabilize the core and cripple the weapon.”

“Maybe the planet,” Ematt added onto the idea, the plan was forming.

“We’ll go in there and we’ll hit that oscillator with everything we’ve got.” Poe assured confidently, I’d missed him and his determination so much.

“They have defensive shields that our ships cannot penetrate.” Ackbar protested, I shared a knowing look with Dad before turning back to the crowd.

“We can disable the shields, me and Han,” I volunteered, “Finn, you worked there. Surely you can help.”

After a beat, Finn nodded, “I can do it.”

Dad leaned down to me, “I like this guy.”

“I can disable the shields, but I have to be there on the planet.”

“We’ll get you there, kid.” Dad promised, Finn looked to me for confirmation and I smiled in assurance.

“Han, how?” my mother spoke up.

“If I told you, you wouldn’t like it.” he answered, causing me to smirk. The fewer details she knew, the smoother everything would go.

“So we disable the shields, take out the oscillator and we blow up their big gun.” Poe stated, earning a loud roar of agreement from Chewie, “All right. Let's go!”

Our group disbanded and the room became a sea of chatter and orders. Poe had taken off to assemble Black Squadron while me, my dad and Chewie were making our way out of the command center. Mom had ten different people flooding her with questions so I didn’t want to add to it when I could take care of things myself,

“You two go start running diagnostics on the Falcon. I can get techs and mechanics if you want but-“

"There’s only two people I trust with the Falcon other than me and neither of them are any of your guys.” Dad interrupted as we walked down the hallway.

“But I know you’d never trust them so I’ll leave it to you guys,” I finished, “I need to grab some things from my quarters and I’ll be out to help.”

I showed them out of the base before heading back in and taking the familiar walk to my room. It felt like I’d been gone weeks when really, it had only been less than two days. I punched in my code and entered, locking the door behind me. There was no time for sentimentality, or even a shower, as I began searching for the things I needed. I grabbed my communicator off of my desk and shoved it in the pocket of my pants. I slid my jacket off and stripped the sweaty shirt off my torso. I caught sight of myself in the refresher’s mirror and grimaced, my hair was frizzed, there were ugly bruises littering my arms and grains of sand stuck to my skin. Halfheartedly dusting the leftovers of Jakku off and running my fingers through my hair would have to do for now. I dug through my dresser, pulled on a tight black long sleeved shirt and found my dark green military jacket. Something felt off as I put it on, like something was missing.

I groaned as I dug through the pile of clothes, “Why do I need you so much?

Unhooking the lightsaber from my brown jacket, I clipped it into my new one and sighed. My father’s words from earlier rang in my ears, he wasn’t Force sensitive but he damn sure knew about it’s advantages. Could he be right? Was I being too dramatic about the whole subject? I’d spent so long afraid of what I could do, so worried that I’d turn into something dark and twisted. Could I let myself give into the pull towards the light side? As much as I hated to admit it, I loved using my saber, despite the traumatic memories attached to it. I enjoyed meditating and using the Force, I felt less like myself when I restricted my usage. I placed a hand on the cool silver handle and closed my eyes, hearing the words as if someone was in the room saying them to me,

Don’t be afraid.

“Okay.”

Opening my eyes, I took a deep breath and knew I couldn’t waste any more time. People were counting on me, the galaxy was counting on the Resistance to see them. Where I should have felt anxiety, I felt resolve and determination.

It was time to go do my job.

——————

The entire base was in a frenzy, the good kind though. The kind that united people, that caused everybody to pull together and do their part, even if it wasn’t their job. I saw people from the kitchen helping Commanders, mechanics and communication officers working together. This was one of those days where you felt extra proud to be a member of the Resistance.

If we succeeded, that was…

I made my way out of base and searched for the ships I needed to find. Along the way, I spotted Jess and Snap’s X-Wings parked next to each other, the both of them communicating with their techs.

“Pava, Wexley,” I called out, “You two come back alive, Commander’s orders.”

“The same goes for you, Solo. Black Squad’s order.” Jess shouted across the tarmac, I winked in response and continued towards one specific X-Wing. Bee was already loaded into his slot, yet his owner was nowhere to be found.

“You good to go, Bee?” I asked, climbing the ladder to get a good look at him.

All set. Just waiting on Poe.

“Me too. You take care of him for me, okay?”

“Why?” Poe asked from behind me, “You don’t think he can take care of himself?”

I climbed down the ladder and came face to face with him, “I don’t think it hurts to have someone watching your back. Especially when someone’s as reckless as you are.”

He put his hands on his hips and chuckled, “Same words could be said for you, sweetheart.”

I smiled and snaked my arms around his neck, “Well, then this is a perfect match.”

His lips curled into a grin before leaning down to capture my lips in a slow, passionate kiss. I carded my fingers through the curls at the back of his neck as his hands gripped my hips, pulling me close. A few days ago, kissing Poe was an intrusive daydream I tried not to focus on and now? It was a reality I never wanted to come to an end. We broke apart only when we needed air, he brushed his nose softly against mine and I hummed in contentment.

“I wish I were coming with you.” Poe admitted, “I hate the idea of you actually inside that base.”

“You wouldn’t be able to do anything that I can’t,” I assured him, “Besides, you’re most needed in the skies.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t be worrying about you,” he replied, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to mine, “Haven’t done much else since I watched you disappear into that desert.”

I scraped my fingernails lightly against his scalp, committing the little moan that escaped his throat to memory. There weren’t any words I could say in response to him, the past 24 hours had been a living nightmare for the both of us. All I wanted was to keep him in my arms and reassure him a thousand times that I would never leave him. But instead, we had to separate again and pray that the other returned safe and sound.

“Don’t worry, Dameron. You’re going to be stuck with me for a very long time.” I promised, staring as deep as I could into his eyes to drive my point home.

“Sounds like a plan, Solo.” Poe remarked before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling my body into his. He buried his face in my neck, a spot that was quickly becoming one of his favorites. We stood there drawing strength from one another that would carry us through the battle, me on the ground and him in the air.

A familiar throat clear interrupted the moment.

Poe and I turned around to the sight of my parents standing a few feet away from us, my mom smiling and my father scowling. I chuckled and grabbed a very nervous Poe’s hand and walked towards them,

“Dad, this is Poe Dameron.”

At the mention of Poe’s last name, Dad’s face softened and he made eye contact with Poe,

“Are you Kes and Shara’s kid?”

Poe’s lips curved up, “Yeah, I am. They used to tell me stories growing up about fighting alongside you and the General during the Rebellion.”

Mom and I beamed as Dad chuckled and stuck out his hand for Poe to shake, which Poe happily took,

“It’s good to meet you, kid,” Dad began, before giving Poe a knowing look, “I’d say take care of my daughter, but I’ve seen first hand that she can do that herself. If you hurt her though, I can have the worst scum in the galaxy on your ass so fast you won’t even have time to power up your X-Wing.”

Poe was trying so hard not to look scared, “Y-Yes sir, I-I mean no sir, I would never hurt her.”

“That’s the right answer,” Dad grinned lopsidedly, “Give Kes my best.”

“I will, sir.” Poe replied, finally taking a breath again. That breath was gone again when Mom stepped forward, striking fear in both of us,

“Hurt her and the only squadron you’ll be in charge of, Dameron, will be janitorial.”

“Yes, General.”

Mom gave a smile and wink before she went back to Dad, “Time to get moving, Commanders.”

“Yes, General.” I repeated after Poe, they began walking back to the Falcon. I snorted as soon as they were far enough away to not hear, I thought I heard Poe actually whimper.

“I think I blacked out for a minute, please tell me I didn’t say anything stupid.”

“I was too busy trying not to laugh,” I replied as I chortled, “I can totally see you in a janitor’s uniform with a mop.”

Poe shook his head and took me back in his arms, the air between us became serious once again fast. I placed a hand on his cheek and watched him lean into it, kissing my palm softly before looking back up at me,

“I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too,” I whispered, “Come back to me, Poe.”

“I always will.” he replied.

He leaned in and gave me one final quick kiss before we hesitantly broke apart, but this time it felt different. Though we weren’t by each other’s sides, we were still going to be fighting together in a way. I was disabling the shields so he could come in and blow up the oscillator. We were still working together, but it didn’t make turning away from him any easier.

I walked back to the Falcon where my parents were waiting, “Well, at least you guys weren’t too over the top.”

Dad laughed, “Was he scared?”

“Wildly.”

“Then,” Dad looked to Mom with an amused expression, “We did our job.”

I couldn’t help but smile, we felt like a family again. Even if we were all about to split up again, we were together right now and my heart felt at home. Tears began to swell in my eyes as I looked between the two of them, they each reached out and took one of my hands. Unable to contain my emotions anymore, I surged forward to hug them both. I hadn’t been held by both my parents in so long but it still felt just as familiar as when I was a child. As much as I wanted to stay in their embrace for hours more, we had to go and do our respective jobs,

“I love you.” I whispered, they both kissed my head in response and squeezed us together a little tighter.

“We’re so proud of you, Y/n,” Mom gushed as we pulled apart, “We love you so much.”

I noticed that they each had an arm around each other, something I hadn’t expected but a sight that was welcomed. Maybe, just maybe, everything was finally going to work out. We could go and destroy the weapon, come home and I could have my family back, or at least most of it…

“Han, Y/n,” Mom’s face turned serious, “If you see him, bring him home.”

I knew there was a chance that Ben would be on the base, though the chances of us coming in contact were slim. The request my mother was making was big, I wasn’t even sure if it was possible. But if the opportunity presented itself, I had to try. I’d be kicking myself for the rest of my life if I didn’t at least try. Looking at my mother with tears in her eyes, I wanted nothing more than to bring my brother home for her.

“I will.” I assured her, taking her hand in mine as Dad pulled her into his side. We embraced once again and I got to witness the sweet sight of my father kissing my mother on her forehead. It gave me hope and reminded me that this is what I was fighting for. For my family, for Poe, for the people that were closest to my heart.

“We’ve gotta go…” Dad interrupted the moment, but he had to.

“Be safe,” Mom ordered, we broke apart and me and Dad watched her hesitantly leave us and head back into the base. I knew she would have rather watched us disappear into the ship but she was needed elsewhere.

“Chewie,” I called as I walked around the ship to find him, “We good to go?”

He roared in response that we were all set before picking up his tools and heading up the ramp. I looked around for Finn, I assumed he was already inside and ready to go. He was the most enthusiastic about going since we were going to retrieve Rey. Dad was right behind me as we entered and walked to the cockpit,

“To think you started your day out hauling Rathtars…” I retorted, elbowing him lightly.

He chuckled, “I was looking for a job when I met your uncle and by the end of the day, I’d met your mother and was heading to blow up the Death Star. I’m used to this sort of thing.”

“Thank you for sticking with me,” we stopped before we got to the cockpit, “I know it was hard for you to come back here.”

He shook his head, “When it comes down to it, I’d do anything for you and your mother.”

I patted his arm warmly and we went into the cockpit to see Finn and Chewie waiting for us. Except Chewie was sitting in the seat behind his usual, “Why aren’t you up there?”

He didn’t say anything, he just shook his head and nudged me towards the co-pilot’s chair. I smiled, who was I to argue with a Wookie? Dad took his seat next to me and I didn’t even have to ask if he was okay with it, his beaming face said it all. We began adjusting controls and Dad powered her up,

“Alright, here we go…”

I looked back to Finn before we took off, he looked a little nervous yet wholly determined. He’d slid into the Resistance so easily, he’d fit in so naturally in the briefing when he spoke up about the base. We shared a nod and I turned back around to watch us lift above the base. I took one final look at Poe’s X-Wing, I could distantly see him climbing up the ladder and take his seat. He wouldn’t be far behind us, his squadron would be waiting to drop in on the planet once we’d disabled the shields.

“Ready to jump to lightspeed?” Dad interrupted my thoughts.

“All set.” I answered looking to the sky ahead, silencing any anxious thoughts that dared to come to my mind. We would succeed at our goal and we’d all come out alive, I didn’t know what I’d do if we didn’t.

-------------

A/N: TA-DA, hope everybody enjoyed the reunion! Fun Fact: When writing this series, I’m watching parts of the movie + reading the script online so everything is as movie accurate as I can make it. Hope everybody is staying safe and wearing your 😷 Let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @springfox04 @constantdisgrace @holybatflapexpert @seninjakitey @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet @leilei-draws @eternal-fandoms @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @imaginecrushes @eternallyvenus @thescarletknight2014 @simplyhemmings @captain-america5 @breyasficletblog @caseymcflurry @stumbleonmywords @april-14-blog @i-ievu @ultrunning

#poe dameron x solo!reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars imagine

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athenaquinn · 3 years

Text

Bury It || Ally & Athena

TIMING: Current (today) LOCATION: The middle of a forest in White Crest PARTIES: @alejandra-solano and @athenaquinn SUMMARY: Ally and Athena run into a spriggan. Everything is fine. CONTENT: very brief allusions to physical and emotional abuse

Even after everything, there was still a certain peace Athena felt in the woods. Peace and a sense of power. It was somewhere where she could take control and where she could deal with things however she saw fit without having to worry about other people. Usually, at least. Except for some hikers here and there, but Athena also often found her way into more secluded parts of the forest. Today’s venture was somewhere in the middle ground - not so secluded that she was all but guaranteed to be alone, but also not somewhere that she knew many hikers would be going. Especially as the Maine weather began to tease the coming of a proper spring, she knew she’d have to be more mindful of humans when she went out on her hunts. She felt goosebumps run up her arm, then - and so she scanned the clearing, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Eastward, she thought, if she let herself concentrate enough. Another benefit of not many people being around was that it was easier to locate. Rolling her shoulders, Athena began to walk in that direction, fingertips ghosting against her hip where one of her many knives sat, under her jacket.

Ally was going to figure out where that goddamned cabin was whether it was the last thing she did. People can’t just be forming towns in the woods. She trudged through the underbrush, something she had done a lot over the past few weeks. Being alone was something that Ally struggled with. She was vulnerable when she was alone, but the hobbies she took under her belt left her alone so often. She tried to shake the thought away and as she did, she realized she wasn’t alone. She heard someone walking parallel to her and she paused, peeking between the trees. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed what looked like a tree move. Again she shook her head, she had been awake for a long time. “Who is there!” she yelled, grasping the gun at her hip, and looking to the spot in the woods where she last heard walking.

She had the option to leave town now, if she really wanted to. Leave and study somewhere else just like she and her brother hadn’t been permitted to do for college. Except she had reasons to stay here - Ariana, for one - and even if she wasn’t bound to her obligations in the same exact way as before, she still had a duty to protect people, and letting fae run amok all over town wasn’t something that would ever sit well with her. Athena continued to make her way through the forest, careful to not step on any branches, or knock over any piles of rocks. She felt her body tense up again - which had to mean she was headed in the right direction. A figure was moving between some trees. That had to be it, didn’t it? She regarded it (always an it, never anything more, when she was hunting - it was important to separate monsters into their own category), though noticed that it was beginning to approach another woman and for a moment she caught her breath, wavering. The other figure was human - or so she thought - but she felt a bit of doubt swirling in her chest. She could take them both out if need be, she told herself - though she would give it a few moments more, see what happened. Athena let her hand slip under her jacket, fingers wrapping around the hilt of her knife. She could at least guess that the fae was possibly a spriggan, at least based on size. That was one thing to go off of, and to watch out for.

Out of the corner of her eye Ally saw a tree move again. Damn, had she really been awake that long? Still she turned, and what she saw took her breath away. A being creeping through the woods. Was she dreaming? Her mind tried to wrap itself around this impossibility, not a vampire, not a person, not an illegal village in the woods. What was it? Before she could catch her breath it was moving toward her, and she leaped back, tripping over a rock and watching her weapon go flying in the other direction. She always joked about keeping her stake on her, and now she really wished she had. She felt a sharp pain in her ankle when she tried to get back up, watching the beast before her approach. “What do you want from me?” she yelled, pushing herself back. She felt hands wrap around her legs, holding her in place. Its eyes were locked on her badge, attached to her jacket.

The other woman was human. Had to be, at this point. Or at least not fae - and if she happened to be something else, Athena would find a way to deal with it. What was most important was helping someone who was being hurt by a fae. That was always what was most important (at least in her mind, at least now) (her parents might well have had other things to say but she didn’t want them to enter her thoughts and mind again - not now - please, not now) and so that was how she would have to deal with it. Get rid of the fae first, figure everything else out later. She watched the woman fall and winced involuntarily, because that had to hurt (did hurt, she knew, recalling a memory from years ago) more than the mats in her family’s training room. Then the fae was on top of the woman and holding her down. If it was hurting her, then Athena knew she had double the reason to go on the offensive. “Stop that!” She called, suddenly, stepping out from her hiding place. The spriggan (it had to be, all signs pointed to that) took little note of her words, instead continuing to hold her down. “Try to push it off!” She called out, taking a few steps closer. “Knee it, or something. See if that works!”

Ally whipped her head around as a girl appeared from the woods. Brave. Braver than she had been in the same situation. Not the time, Ally. She was wriggling under the hands of the creature and felt herself come up with a sarcastic response. Instead she swallowed and gathered all of her strength. With her good leg she gave a strong kick, flinging it back a little bit. That was when it split into two. “What the fuck is happening?” she yelled at the girl who seemed far too calm for the situation at hand. She felt her attention being pulled elsewhere, toward a moss covered log in the distance. Why did she care about a log? She pushed herself to pull her attention back as the two beings lunged toward her again, hands reaching for the glimmer of her badge. She grasped on to a branch, swinging it to swat one hand away, but the other grabbed her arm. “You knee it!” she yelled.

Maybe asking a civilian, even a police civilian to handle this themselves was a stupid idea. Athena knew full well that at least most of the police were far too human - or not human at all. Either way, even if her parents had made certain she (and their family) were in the police department’s good graces, they also reminded her that there were too many things (countless, even) that she knew how to handle that the police simply could not. That she’d been designed to handle since she was a child. “That thi-that creature-being - is attacking you.” She resisted the urge to huff, because that would only distract her - and for once in recent times she actually felt like she had at least a bit of a handle on things. “Which I know is stating the obvious.” The spriggan continued to attack her, and part of Athena wanted to watch in morbid fascination - wondering what exactly it was that was making this one so keen to attack as much as it did, rather than just steal and leave. “I cannot knee it given that it’s closer to you.” She grabbed her knife, finally removing it from its resting place on her hip. “If you give it a kick, I can,” deal with it, “assist. I can also- ” her sentence cut off, she watched as the spriggan made another lunge at the woman, trying to pull at her hair and grinning, its eyes on the badge. Some spriggans kill after they obtain their desired object. She could see the words on the page in front of her, hear her father’s words. “Just- ” she took another few steps forward, the blade of her knife cutting into the fae’s leg, a small, surface-level wound. That was something of a start, though the spriggan hardly seemed to mind it.

Ally was finally locked in, pushing past the surprise of whatever was on grabbing at her. She could deal with the fact that even though she had spent her whole life researching vampires she had never seen a tiny horned one later. What she needed to focus on now was not getting bit and staying alive. She was annoyed by the girl before her, wondering why she wasn’t doing anything. She watched as she cut into the being with her knife and leaned against a tree, pushing it back towards the girl with her legs. A knife would do nothing if this was a vampire, she knew that, but maybe it would run off if it was inconvenienced enough. “The slicing and dicing isn’t really working.” she yelled, using the branch in hand to swing at the creature again as it leaped toward her. “Fuck this.” she exhaled, deciding that if the girl wanted this thing closer to her, she was going to help. “I hope you’re ready to assist!” she called. As it launched itself at her again she jumped at the creature, trying to pin it down. She was back on the ground and she felt it’s hand close in around her badge. “Now would be a good time.” she said, writhing beneath the creature as she felt claws dig into her skin.

The slicing and dicing isn’t how I’d put it, but it will work, I know that much, was what Athena wanted to say, but held her tongue. Even if an adult was behaving in a ridiculous manner, they still deserved respect. Usually - so long as they weren’t vermin of some sort themselves. That was something that she doubted she’d ever fully shake (even if she knew she’d made at least one notable exception) - but it also wasn’t the worst behavior to have - after all, basic politeness did wonders, she’d found. She raised an eyebrow, impressed at the woman’s willingness to jump into action, though she knew that she had only a little time to work with as it jumped at the woman again. Athena ran over, kneeing the creature before it could grab the woman’s badge, watching with an amused smirk across her face as it crashed against a nearby tree. She didn’t have too much time to focus on the precision of her kick, because this spriggan was either particularly aggressive or particularly determined, or some combination of the two. She ran after it, knocking it to the ground and straddling it, holding her knife to its throat, letting the burn of the iron begin before she sliced it open. Except that the spriggan started to reach out towards her necklace - the one Ariana had given her for Valentine’s Day, and with that she sliced into its shoulder. “You know that thievery is illegal, don’t you?” She spat, watching a bit of blood fall to the ground, though it was still very much alive, struggling under her. She looked over to the woman. “How are you? Did it scratch you at all?”

Ally was sure this was how she was going to die. She always knew that it was going to be related to the supernatural in some way. How would they cover it up? What would they tell her dad? She thought of all the dozens of excuses she had given to bereaved parents in the past. She would soon be one of those. Suddenly the weight was lifted off her body, faster than she had time to register. She watched as the woman sat atop the creature, talking to it, as if she knew what it was. Too calm she remembered. When the girl addressed her, Ally snapped out of her shock. She looked at a small tear in her jacket, a scratch across her skin from it’s claw. “I’ll get a bandaid later. You know how to deal with this? I have a stake...” she fumbled, still stuck on the idea that this was a vampire. The world was too small for there to be anything other than vampires. Right? Ally searched the ground for something, anything to help, frustrated by how defenseless she was. She settled on another loose branch, slowly approaching the struggling pair. She watched as the beast lunged for the necklace at the girl’s throat again. “Watch out!” she called. This thing was injured but damn it was determined.

Her parents had always said that she could use her size to her advantage - that being small was of incredible benefit. It had to have been true, after all - her mother was even smaller than she was and she was one of the most powerful - and, if Athena spent too much time thinking about it - terrifying - people that she could think of, and so it had to be. Use everything about you to throw people off your tracks, throw off any would-be suspicion her parents had said so many times that she had lost count. “I’ve got a bandaid and bandages - we just - there’s a few things to deal with, first.” Adjusting her position to ensure that the spriggan didn’t go anywhere, she blinked rapidly a few times. “A stake? I - no. The offer’s really appreciated and good on you for carrying that around but that won’t work for this.” A laugh escaped from the spriggan’s lips and Athena turned back, hitting it across the face. “I really wouldn’t laugh if I were you.” In her momentary distraction she didn’t notice the spriggan reaching for her necklace again. “The heads up is appreciated!” She called out to the woman, returning her knife to the spriggan’s throat, a smirk crossing her lips. Well, she always appreciated having to work for something. Though still rewarding, when fae put up no fight it made everything just a bit less fun. “Things like this rob and steal and can do much worse, if we let them.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth.

Knives, a band-aid, who was this woman? The medic of the forest? Won’t work for this. What is this? It felt like the world was both expanding and collapsing around Ally. There was more to be afraid of, more to protect people against, and more to learn. The wind left her lungs and she slowly took in the information that the woman was offering up. She hadn’t noticed but the stick she was holding had dropped from her hands. The spriggan must have seen the opportunity because it reached out, grabbing a hold of her bad ankle. She let out a scream and kicked at it, her ankle in searing pain. Grabbing a hold of the stick she stabbed at the hand grasped around her ankle. “Let’s not let them, yes?” she expressed, wriggling. She was frustrated she had been caught in its grasp again.

She had to say, if she had to run into any police officer in the woods, this woman seemed to be one of the best options she had. At least she was willing to jump into action and she’d yet to call Athena a kid, which automatically gave her bonus points, even if she was thinking it. Except that the spriggan had at least partially gotten out from under her and was grabbing the woman’s ankle, knocking her onto the ground. “Seriously? You’ve gotta give up sometime, you know.” Athena muttered to the spriggan, cutting into its arm, forcing it to let go of the woman’s ankle. “You know what happens if you misbehave, don’t you?” It continued to move, hissing and screeching as it attempted to grab at the other woman again.

Ally kept struggling and watched as the woman cut the being. As it’s hands slipped from her ankle, her boot caught on to it’s pocket. As she kicked it away, she watched a few small items fall to the forest floor. She didn’t think much of it, but was surprised to see what looked like roots spreading throughout the ground. “Is that normal?” she asked, feeling the earth developing beneath her. As it shook the being seemed to become more distressed, grasping at the ground, theoretically searching for whatever had fallen. The rage of losing the items seemed to send one more surge of strength through it, as it started flailing around. “Can I help? Do we...?” She didn’t want to say the last part of that sentence, because she didn’t like to think about it as killing. As she attempted to rise off the ground she uttered some curses under her breath. She hadn’t really been paying attention to the pain in her ankle but as she moved to stand it was clear that this wasn’t a simple fix.

“Normal’s subjective.” Athena pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The woman deserved at least that much, she figured. She wasn’t about to get into all the ins and outs of everything, but if she had some vague (even if over-generalized and misguided) idea of what vampires were, saying that much wouldn’t do any harm. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want this - well, I don’t want you to come to harm, and I’ve - my mom runs - ran a gym in town so I’ve got lots of training.” The spriggan was flailing just enough and Athena moved to kneel by it, toes of her boots digging into the ground as she slit its throat, watching until it stopped thrashing. She couldn’t take any more time to more fully observe it now, though. “It won’t hurt you any more, don’t worry.” Her voice oddly calm, she grabbed a cloth, wiping off the blade as she glanced over to where something had fallen from the spriggan’s pocket.

His blood seeped into the soil along, crying out as he had. Blood had a memory like no other. It carried with it all his grief and his rage, and his desire for the things he could not have, it carried the cold disdain of the one who had spilled it, and the moral struggle of the police officer nearby. A sacrifice had been made, even if it had not been intended. It was a terrible, wonderful first meal. Tiny roots stretched out from the seeds. For a moment, it was quiet. Then, the ground groaned as the roots expanded and grew deep into the foundations of White Crest. With a loud creak, the seeds rushed upwards, saplings only for a second as thick bark wrapped around the body of the spriggan, lifting it up so that for one horrifying moment it was poised upright like a scarecrow before the wood swallowed up his features, and branches began to form around his arms. Still, the tree grew, up, up. The bark reached for Athena too, as the roots tried to grab at Ally. Inside, they could hear the Spriggan’s body squelch as the branches grew up the length of the tree, tearing its arms from the rest of its body, trapped inside. Leaves spread to fill a gap in the canopy which had not been there before. When it was finished, there was one last creak, as if the tree was sighing in relief, and then all was still.

Ally staggered back as the tree sprung from the ground, swallowing up the creature. She watched with wide eyes as it was violently devoured. It had been hell bent on attacking her only moments before, but still she gulped down a feeling of sadness and guilt. There was darkness as its leaves spread throughout and she waited a second for the tree to do something. “Was that part of it? Is this like a thing it does?” she asked, kicking the base of the tree. “Hello?” She looked over at the other girl, waiting for the guidance she seemed to provide.

Athena jumped - just slightly - as a tree rose from the ground and wrapped around the spriggan. For a brief moment, she watched in morbid fascination - it was something that she’d never seen before, and that made it remarkable (and, she noted, a convenient disposal method for the body). Except then the bark reached out for her and she couldn’t help but let the start of a scream escape her lips as she jumped up and away, the other woman’s words drawing her attention. “Not at all.” She made her way over to the tree, knife still in one hand as she ran her fingertips along the bark for a quick moment before bringing her hand away. “I’ve never seen anything like that. But we might not want to be right next to it - in case it tries to go after us again.” She bit her lip.

Ally nodded and took the other woman’s advice, stepping over the roots that had spread throughout the ground. “What have you seen? You knew a lot about...whatever that was.” Ally said, raising a brow. Her eyes glanced to the knife still in her hand. Had she seen too much? She kept a careful distance between herself and the woman with the knives, especially because she didn’t have her weapon with her. “I’ve seen some things but nothing like that. Or this.” she said, peering up to the top of the trees.

“I’ve lived in this town my whole life so… a lot.” Tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth again, Athena wasn’t sure what to say. There were a lot of ways that any phrasing she provided - even the most basic and simplest - could make someone look at her like she had two heads or didn’t know what she was talking about. Could make them use the same terms she and so many others had used for Blanche back in high school - which now left a sour taste in her mouth in more ways than one. “I will say the whole tree thing,” she gestured towards it, “is new. The thing that attacked you, I’m a bit more familiar with.”

“A whole life of this shit does stuff to you.” Ally muttered under her breath, gazing up at the tree. At least she only had vampires to deal with, not weird tree things. That brought her to her next line of questioning. “Are there more...things? Out there?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly. She didn’t know how she would grapple with a world where every person could be a different kind of monster. She would lose her mind. “Also what exactly was that, and why did it want my badge? I can’t imagine weird little monsters care about impersonating a police officer.” She then realized she had forgotten something important. “Thank you, for helping me. That thing was...scary.” she still didn’t trust the woman, but she had saved her from whatever that was.

“I guess it can!” Athena shrugged, over-enthusiastic again. Not willing to delve too deep into whatever the woman might have been implying. She’d dealt with the spriggan and she didn’t want to think too much about why the tree was growing - if she’d managed to mess something else up - again. “I - there’s a lot out there.” She blinked, because part of her duty was to not let super-average-ordinary humans get more of an idea of everything that was out there. That would lead to too many trying to go after things themselves, when they weren’t properly skilled for it. “Some… things… like to steal for the fun of it, but they can do far worse than just steal.” At the ‘thank you’, Athena shrugged. “Of course. It’s - well, it’s what I do. She opened up her bag, pulling out a bandage. “Do you want me to help out with what happened? I’m pre-med, so I know what I’m doing.” She offered her best reassuring smile.

There’s a lot out there. The breath left her body, a feeling of deep despair pouring through her. Was it all true? Was every book she read full of fantastical creatures just a depiction of the world she couldn’t see. She was lost in her thoughts and pulled out by the other woman’s statement. “What you do? Find them? That’s what you do?” That’s what Ally tried to do, albeit mostly unsuccessfully. Maybe this woman was an ally rather than a foe. She hesitated at the offer for help, but she had a pretty deep cut. “Sure. Although I think I’m going to have to get this ankle looked at by someone with a degree.” she said, frowning at the ankle that hurt whenever she put the lightest amount of pressure on it. “My name is Ally, by the way. You are?” She wanted to look into this mysterious woman.

“Yes.” You could say that. That’s one word for it. “Find them, and make certain that they do not hurt others, because some of them are really keen to do so.” Athena made a small face. She hoped she didn’t sound too crazy, too off-putting. She didn’t want that, especially with humans, and especially a human who also happened to be a police officer, regardless of her thoughts or her parents’ thoughts on the effectiveness of the police in town. “I understand - there’s a reason they don’t just let anybody practice medicine.” She scrunched up her nose as she knelt next to the woman and began to bandage her up. “Athena.” She grinned. “Pleasure to meet you, Ally.”

“Is it like...an organization. Are there others?” Ally asked. Maybe she wasn’t as alone as she thought. Maybe there were other people out there driven to make the world better. She watched as Athena bandaged her and suddenly felt grateful that there was at least one. It made the burden feel just a little bit less, like Athena had lifted the weight of the world off of her, even for just a minute. She noticed the clock on her wrist. They had been out here a while, she had to be back at the station soon. “Fun question, do you know how to get out of here?” she said.

“Yes. Sort of, but not a super formal- ” well, formal but not in the way I will explain, “well, not like when I was in Girl Scouts but yes. There’s people around who help out the town and help keep it safe.” Athena let a soft smile cover her lips. “Getting out of here?” She looked up at the forest around them. “I don’t know right off the bat, but I earned every badge there was to earn, and helped my brother earn some of his for Boy Scouts, too.” She stood up, and offered her hand to Ally. “What do you say?”

There were more people. It wasn’t just her. Today she had been devastated and uplifted. It was too soon today that she wanted to know them, but she slid the knowledge to the back of her mind. She needed to do what she always does. Research. Instead she took Athena’s hand and smiled. “Take me away girl scout.”

#wickedswriting #c ally #chatzy #bury it #:------)#physical abuse mention #emotional abuse mention #// serena was so wonderful to write with and i love ally #also the other writer who did a Thing in this is an absolute delight #:)

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