#I wouldn’t mind being cyan forever for that look | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thicctails · 4 years ago

Text

Summer of Whump Day 11 [Whipping/Branding]

I took this one WAY farther than it was meant to be taken. I’m sorry Omega babey I promise I’ll never do something this bad again :(

It had happened at the worse possible time.

Upon waking up after her encounter with the Quill Stalker, Omega had found that she had been returned to the ship. Tech was looking her over, asking of she felt dizzy or nauseous. She hadn’t, but even after she’d told him such, he had insisted on staying with her. He had been tense, and he kept looking around, like he expected something to attack him. When Rex came around the corner holding his blaster, he twitched back a bit. She could feel the stress he was feeling, and it had made her nervous as well.

“You feeling better, kiddo?” Rex had asked.

“Y-yeah, I’m alright. Are you staying with us?” She’d questioned.

“Not for long. We’re headed to Bracca to find a Jedi cruiser. Once we’re done there, I’ll be off.” He’d explained.

“A Jedi cruiser? Why do you need to find one of those?” Omega had asked, sitting up.

“Rex is going to help us remove the inhibitor chips. They are… more of a threat than we previously thought.” Tech had said, shifting uncomfortably.

Omega had looked at Tech, than at Rex, then back at Tech. The younger clone was clearly becoming more and more stressed and uncomfortable the longer Rex was in the room, and she had realized that she could pick up prickles of fear in Tech. Her eyes had flicked to Rex’s blaster, and she had realized that Tech thought that Rex might shoot him. That hadn’t made any sense to her, Wrecker had said that Rex was their friend, and why would a friend harm them?

She hadn’t felt any warning buzzing, so she had merely put on a smile and placed a hand on Tech’s arm, causing his attention to shift to her.

“That’s good! It means that the Empire can’t ever control you.” She’d said, which had made him smile.

The air in the ship had never lost its tense feeling as they flew to a dusty, scrap-covered planet. Omega hadn’t even wanted to think about the number of ways they could all get tetanus as they made their way through the ship scrap yard. They had slunk out of view of some Scrapper Guild members, entered the ship, and started up the technology that they would need to remove the chips.

And that is where everything went to shit.

That oh so familiar shriek in the back of her mind had been her only warning. Confused, she’d looked around, trying to figure out where the sudden danger was coming from. Everything seemed fine, Tech was working on Wrecker while Rex and Hunter tried to usher her out of the room as they talked. She’d hesitated, then turned to tell Hunter about her feeling.

“W-wrecker!”

Omega spun, her eyes going wide at the impossible sight before her. Wrecker had Tech by the throat, lifting the man off the ground as he struggled for air.

“You’re in direct violation of Order 66.” Wrecker’s voice was cold, so unlike his usual chipper tone. Omega became cold all over as Wrecker threw Tech against the wall, the younger clone crashing to the ground in a heap. His blaster slid across the floor, right in front of Wrecker.

The events following that moment went by in a blur. Hunter had grabbed her, pulling her behind cover as the sound of blaster fire exploded into the room. Her ears rang as her heart began to beat wildly. She couldn’t understand. Wrecker’s chip wasn’t supposed to activate!

Hunter had told her to stay with Tech, and while she was glad she had managed to save Hunter from being killed by his own brother, she was now finding herself in the most terrifying chase of her life.

Omega panted, slinking back farther into the shadows. She shivered, griping the blaster with more force than what was necessary. Somehow, she’d managed to dodge Wrecker long enough to end up in the cruiser’s lower levels. Sweat poured down her face and neck, and she took a second to wipe some of the liquid out of her eyes. It was hot down here, steam bursting out through cracks in the floor. It seemed that this ship laid atop some sort of steam vent, and Omega took care to avoid the places that the steam hissed through. She knew that steam was water that was very, very hot, and so that touching it would hurt.

Wrecker’s heavy footsteps echoed out into the open space, the degrading metal floor groaning a bit under his weight. Omega cowered back, holding her breath as he passed by. Luckily, she was on his blind side, so he didn’t see her. His face was pulled into a serious frown, his brown eyes void of any light as he scanned the room. Wrecker had always been a fun, reliable protector to Omega, and despite his size, she’d always felt completely safe with him. That feeling of security was gone now, shot dead point blank. Terror replaced it, and she felt something unfamiliar sitting heavily in her chest. The emotion was a mix of shock, anger, and deep sadness. She hated it.

A burst of steam broke through a crack in the floor in front of her, causing her to yelp and stumble back. Omega scrambled to her feet, tears that had been steadily building spilling out as the hulking clone turned towards her.

“Wrecker,” She started, quickly darting to the side as Wrecker stomped towards her, “Wrecker please stop! This isn’t you!”

“All rouge clones will be terminated.” Wrecker snarled, reaching out to grab her.

Omega raised the blaster, her hands shaking as she pointed it at Wrecker. Tears blurred her vision, and her voice broke as she pleaded with the man.

“Just- just stop! I don’t wanna have to hurt you!” She kept backing up, not sure if she would actually be able to take the shot. This was Wrecker, he was family.

The choice was violently ripped away from her as the enhanced clone gripped the blaster and threw it aside. Omega stared up at Wrecker, her shiny brown eyes wide and pleading. Her previous words had no effect on the clone, however, and she quickly found herself unable to breathe. Her throat muscles burned under the crushing force, and she kicked wildly, her minuscule leg muscles not allowing her to do any damage to the hulking giant. She was too panicked to try and call out to the Force, and thus was left to claw at Wrecker’s hand. She tried to speak, to once again attempt to reason with her mind-controlled guardian, but the pressure on her windpipe was too great, and she could only silently move her lips. Wrecker was still walking forward, and she could feel the air behind her getting hotter and hotter, the sound of hissing steam just barely audible over the sound of blood rushing in her ears. She thrashed, her lungs burning from the lack of oxygen.

Then, without warning, she was slammed against the metal wall. The pain was immediate, and Omega actually managed to force out a choked squeak as she screamed. The scorching metal burned through her shirt easily, leaving her back exposed to its monstrous heat. Her skin split, blistering under the touch of the boiling steam. Blood sizzled against the red-hot steel of the ship, splattering up onto her burning flesh.

Omega’s pupils were pinpricks in a sea of caramel, the black dots nearly lost to the colour. She was beyond panic at this point, beyond any form of rational thinking. Her body was in survival mode, and it screamed out to the Force, reacting as soon as the power was summoned. Wrecker flew back, the armored man smashing into the wall across the room. No longer supported, Omega dropped, her seizing body hitting the floor with a thud.

She lay there, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Her brain was having a meltdown, not sure if it could feel the pain, or if the nerves in her back had been melted away. Breathing took a great amount of effort, and Omega saw spots of black and deep cyan dance in her vision. The only sound she heard was the ringing in her ears, loud and unyielding. She couldn’t lift her head, couldn’t blink, couldn’t think.

Wrecker shifted, but she didn’t notice. Her mind was elsewhere, shutting itself down in a desperate attempt to preserve Omega’s psyche. The tank of a human shook his head, glaring at the quaking child. He got to his feet, a trail of blood dripping down over his blind eye. He stepped forward, ready to finish the job.

Bam!

Wrecker saw nothing but darkness, only just aware of the fact that he was now falling forward.

Rex stood in the doorway, freezing up in shock at the sight of Omega. He dropped his blaster and ran over to her, hands hovering above her broken form. There was blood everywhere, the floor beneath the girl stained red. What parts of her back that weren’t covered in blisters were burnt black or pulsing an angry red. The smell of burnt flesh made him want to vomit, but he swallowed his gorge as he tried to figure out how to help. Disturbingly, Omega was still awake, her eyes blown wide as she shuddered uncontrollably.

“Oh kriff, oh kriff.” He said, his hands shaking as he gently touched Omega’s shoulder. The sight of a young child being so brutally injured made him feel sick. For a brief second, he saw another young girl laying on the metal floor, one that he knew far better than Omega. He shook his head. No. She was safe, and Omega needed his full attention.

It was the middle of her back that was the most damaged, with the area just below her neck and her most lower back being mostly untouched, minor burns spotting the skin around the edges. Carefully, Rex positioned his arms so that he was only touching the unburned skin. He lifted Omega up, holding the injured child as gently as possible.

“It’s okay, ad'ika. You’re safe now, I promise.” He soothed, quickly moving out of the room. Wrecker wouldn’t be stunned forever, so he needed to get Omega somewhere safe so that he could administer the sedative. Glancing down, he saw that Omega had, thankfully, passed out. Whether it was from pain, shock, or pure exhaustion, he didn’t know, but it was better that she wasn’t awake right now.

Hunter groaned, bringing a hand to his head. His neck felt like it had been stepped on by an obese bantha on all sides, and he rubbed the sore muscles. How had-

He shot up. Wrecker’s chip had activated, he’d drawn his brother away, he’d been choking, then Omega had…!

“OMEGA!” He yelled, jumping off the medical cot he’d been lying on. He whipped his head around, searching for the little girl. Panic seized him when he couldn’t find her, his mind automatically assuming the worst.

‘Oh, Maker. Oh, Maker NO! She’s dead! She’s dead and it’s my fault! I couldn’t protect her! I-’

“Hunter!”

Rex’s voice broke him out of his hysteria. The commander raised his hands, speaking to Hunter like one would a wounded animal.

“Easy, soldier. Omega’s alive. Wrecker too.” He said calmly.

Hunter breathed, his panic ebbing away for a moment, before he realized that Rex had worded his statement oddly.

“Is Omega alright?” He asked immediately, narrowing his eyes when Rex didn’t respond right away. “You said that she was alive, but is she alright, Rex?”

The blonde clone looked away. Hunter’s stomach dropped.

“No.” He said, his eyes widening. “No, no,no,no! She’s just- Wrecker wouldn’t- where is she?! What happened?!”

“Easy, Hunter.” Rex said. “Calm down.”

“NO!” He roared, protective instincts surging through him. “Where is she?!”

“I’m not telling you anything until you calm down! Don’t make me stun you, Hunter!” Rex shouted right back.

Fuming, Hunter reluctantly sat down. He growled under his breath, his gaze sharp as he eyed Rex. While the man was one of his vode, he was withholding information regarding Omega’s well being, which pissed him off to no end.

“Thank you. I’m sorry, Hunter, but I had to be sure that your fight with Wrecker didn’t activate your chip.” Rex’s face softened, like he understood Hunter’s anger and anxiety. “Omega is in a safe room nearby. She needed to be treated with bacta as soon as possible. Luckily, some of the medical cabinets still had supplies.”

“Bacta? Why the hell would she need that?” Hunter asked, worry making his brow wrinkle.

“Omega managed to get all the way down to the cruiser’s lower levels before Wrecker caught up to her. I got there before he could kill her, but not before he managed to… to…” Rex shook his head, and Hunter felt his blood turn to ice. “Hunter, you have to understand. The chip takes away all of your control. You can’t stop it, no matter how hard you try.”

“Before he managed to what?” Hunter growled.

“Before he managed to shove her against burning metal. The steam and hot steel caused severe damage to her back. We’re looking at third, maybe forth degree burns.” Rex finished.

Hunter blanched, suddenly feeling nauseous and cold. He’d been burned before, the blaster bolt scars on his back and arms were there to prove it. However, those were only second degree burns, and he had been put into a bacta tank as soon as possible. To imagine Omega going through even greater pain made him burn with anger. If he ever managed to get his hands on the people that had put the chips in their heads, he’d make sure they died a slow, painful death.

“Oh, Maker.” He said, pinching the space between his eyes. “Oh, Maker why? Why is it always her?”

“Do you want to see her? I need to stay here until Tech and Echo wake up, but I’ll take you to her.” Rex asked, his voice quiet.

“Yes. Yes, please.” Hunter said quickly, following Rex as he led him towards a little medical bay. He moved inside immediately, pausing when he saw a curled up Omega. Most of the back of her shirt had been cut away, and a generous helping of bacta had been applied to an ugly burn. Hunter couldn’t bare to look at the injury for long, and instead moved to drag a chair close to the medical cot Omega was lying on. As Rex returned to his brothers, Hunter ran a hand through Omega’s hair.

“Oh, ik'aad. Fate owes you an apology and a break.” He rasped, touching his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

He pulled back slightly, his hand still petting her head soothingly. He felt his eyes mist slightly, and he quickly rubbed the tears away. No. He couldn’t break down now, not when Omega needed him. When his aliit needed him.

He racked his memory for some idea of what he should do to provide Omega with some form of comfort. He recalled seeing parents sing to their children sometimes, so he tried to think of a song. He didn’t know many, so he simply hummed one that he had heard a dad sing to his three children on one of his missions. His throat rumbled as he hummed, aching as he made it vibrate. He ignored it, willing to be in a bit of pain if it meant that there was a chance that Omega would find some comfort from it.

Hunter remained there until Rex came to get him for is chip removal, quietly humming any tune that he could make up. He hesitated, not wanting to leave Omega alone.

“Come on, buir. She’ll be okay, Tech is going to stay with her.” Rex’s voice held a note of teasing, and Hunter flushed a bit.

“I’m not-” He started, but paused when Rex rolled his eyes.

“Don’t try and deny it. You acted like a mother narglatch who’s baby had been threatened a few hours ago.” He said.

Hunter sputtered, but Rex just jerked his thumb towards the space behind him. “Come on, let’s get that chip out.”

Crosshair lowered his rifle, watching as the two Scrapper Guild members fell into a pit of jagged, twisted metal. Making his way up a fallen wire, he climbed up into the Jedi cruiser. He’d been sent here when a sudden chip activation had been reported.

It seemed his brothers weren’t as immune as they had previously thought.

24 notes · View notes

ilguna · 4 years ago

Text

Redamancy - Chapter Eight (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing, murder, HEAVY GORE, mentions of FORCED PROSTITUTION.

wc; 12k

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

–

If it weren’t for the irritating sun rays landing right on your face and into your eyes, you’d bask in this warm feeling forever. It’s like receiving an embrace from spring, herself. Bright sunlight, tolerable temperatures, bees, flowers, sundresses, picnics and comfortable afternoons in the park with your family. You can’t count how many good memories you have from grass fields and playgrounds in District Four.

Watching Alyssum run around the park, making friends and being a kid while she can is the most satisfying part. You can watch her for hours, lose yourself in her carelessness. Your sister hasn’t got a worry in the world to think about, it makes you envy her. A nice house, warm meals, a loving family. None of you are perfect, but you try to be for her.

There’s a lot she’s going to be missing out on already when it comes to parents. She has you, Reed and Mox to fill those roles for her. You’d like to say she can’t miss something she’s never experienced, you’d be lying, though. You miss a regular teenage life that you never got to live, thanks to the Hunger Games. The Capitol is always ruining something, even if they’re not actively trying.

Which brings you back to reality. As much as you’d like to lay here in the soft blankets and keep to your warm spot on the bed, you’ve got to get moving. If the sun is in your eyes already, it only means that your time is up when it comes to sleeping. Like a natural alarm clock, only somehow more annoying, even if it’s not loud and in your face.

You turn onto your back, slowly opening your eyes. You’re met with a white ceiling, smooth and crack-free. Back home in your room, your ceiling has plenty of cracks. When you don’t feel like getting up immediately, you’ll play a game with yourself. See which ones will start on one side of the room and make it to the other. You’ve gotten good at it, and confidently say that there’s a few that go beyond that, they go to the windowsill.

With a gentle sigh, you sit up on the bed, turned toward the window, stretching your arms above your head. It feels good to get the blood pumping through your arms and shoulders again. You can’t really help it when the stretch extends down to your legs. A low moan leaves your lips, and stops dead in your throat when your thighs begin to hurt.

You hum, standing on your feet. It hurts at first, but the more you move around the room, the better you begin to feel. You stare out of the window for a couple of seconds to see that the Capitol is already alive. It’s definitely past noon at this point. So much for a rotating schedule with Finnick, you’ve already ruined it.

You look over the room you’re in, which definitely isn’t your own. It’s Finnick’s, with the bamboo bed frame, white sheets and the hammock across his room. You used to hear him say how much he enjoyed your room over his, something about the ceiling to floor windows that you have. Takes up an entire wall, gives you a great view of the city. Better than the tiny windows he has lining the wall.

The clock says that it’s a little after two. You two really have got to start moving before you miss out on anything inside of the arena. Not to mention, poor Gloss is sitting down there alone. He hasn’t had a friend to sit with since six this morning. A whole eight hours can be boring as hell, and quite frankly, lonely. He might have resorted talking to the sponsors, at this point.

Finnick is still sleeping on the bed, of course. His back is turned to the sun, explaining why he hasn’t woken up just yet. It’s not going to stay that way for very long. You’d leave him sleeping up here if it weren’t for the fact that it’s entertaining to see him hungover. It’s not often you get to see him like that, and you’re not really willing to pass up an opportunity. Plus, you might as well keep him around as company so it doesn’t get awkward later.

Before you wake him up, you find and put on your bra. He got to see all of you last night, there’s no reason to continue to walk around shirtless. You pick up your pants, and tank top, as your shoes are kicked off by the door. You begin to pull on your jeans, having to bounce slightly to pull them up all the way, when Finnick rolls over.

He groans, throwing his arm over his face to keep the sun from getting in his face. You’re satisfied to see that he’s about to get the same unpleasant wakening that you got, until you realize that his arm completely blocks out the light. What a shame, you were looking forward to watching him come to life like a zombie.

“Hey,” your voice is soft, not really wanting to disturb the peace. He doesn’t seem to hear you, or maybe you’re too quiet. You speak a little louder, “We should probably get down to the betting room, check on our tributes.”

Finnick freezes, and then jolts upright. His wide eyes land on you easily, face twisting as he slowly thinks over the scene in front of him. You pull on your tank top, raising your eyebrows as you wait for him to come to the conclusion himself. After a couple more seconds, he hums out a small tune and falls back onto his pillows, closing his eyes.

“I thought I was still at a client’s house for a second.” he breathes.

“Good morning,” you muse, “How are you feeling?”

“Besides the pounding headache, my back’s pretty messed up.” his eyes open, giving you a sly smirk. You grab one of his shoes, which aren’t as close to the door as yours are, and chuck it at him. Finnick laughs loudly, catching the shoe before it makes a hole in the wall, “I’m fine, considering that I finished half of your drink last night on top of mine.”

“One of us had to be responsible, and I figured that you wouldn’t want to be the one.”

“The next time we go out, I’m going to make you loosen up.” Finnick says.

“If you’re calling me uptight, I’ll shove a stick up your ass so you can see how it feels.” you lean against the wall.

He rolls his eyes, getting out of bed. He’s got a pair of boxers on, so he’s not completely naked either, “How are you feeling?”

“Well rested, actually. Your bed is pretty comfortable.”

“You’re welcome to sleep here any time.” Finnick says, kicking yesterday’s jeans into the corner, as well as the shirt.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” you snort, collecting your shoes, “I’m going to take a shower and get ready. I’ll see you in the dining room.”

“Sure.”

You leave his room, shutting the door behind you. In your own, you quickly change and throw the dirty clothes off to the side for easy collecting when the avoxes come around later. It’s not as hot inside of the Tribute Center as it was yesterday, but the heat is still apparent enough to be one of the first things on your mind. You settle for a pair of shorts, sandals and a white tank top.

You throw the pile of clothes onto the bathroom countertop. The door whooshes shut behind you, sending a cold breeze of air straight to your back. Much like yesterday, you turn the shower water to cold, just on the verge of being warm. You decide to skip getting your hair wet, since you don’t really have time to mess around. It’s a quick wash with sweet smelling soaps before you’re out again.

As you’re drying yourself with the cyan blue towel, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. And with what you see the first time briefly, you have to go back to check that you saw correctly. A scowl appears on your face when you get closer, fingers gently brushing against your collarbone. Little dark marks litter your skin.

You press your lips together, staring for a couple of seconds longer. You have no choice, you have to cover these up. So, you pull on your clothes and get to work with the makeup, trying to find colors that’ll cancel out the hickey colors. You spend a good ten minutes blending, color correcting, and starting over when it’s too obvious. When you’re finally done, you can still tell that they’re there, but it won’t be the first thing anyone sees when they look at you.

You’d just wear a regular shirt if it weren’t for the fact that you’re already sweating with the tanktop on. You put on the sandals on your way out, making sure your ring is secured on your hand. Finnick is already sitting at the dining room table when you get out there, hair wet and he’s dressed in pink and white.

“Took you long enough.” he says, stabbing his fork into a pancake piece and placing it in his mouth.

You glare as you sit down on the chair, “I had a problem. Actually, you gave me a couple of problems and I solved them.”

His face twists, eyeing you now, trying to find the difference. When a plate of pancakes is served in front of you, plate hot to the touch, you cut up the pancakes, slightly amused by his determination to try and prove you wrong. Does he really think that he’ll be able to? You’ve gone through this plenty of times before with Anchor.

Finnick shrugs, “Whatever you say.”

At least now you have insurance that you did a good job. Finnick might be some type of moronic but that doesn’t mean he misses details. It’s the small things that you have to look out for. Another skill that you need when you’re mentoring, another thing to add to the list that you’ve gotten good at after these years. From what you remember, Finnick’s not too bad at it, himself.

The avox turns on the tv without either of you asking, but you thank him anyway. As you go for fruits instead of syrup this morning, you catch up on the arena with Finnick. Sanguin is in the cornucopia, a fire going in front of her. She’s got some sort of animal skewered using her sword, roasting it over the fire. She looks pissed, staring into the fire, letting the flames flicker in her eyes.

You’d like to say that she finally lost her mind, but she lost it a long time ago. Way before Bauhinia. Maybe while she was being strategically trained to think that the other tributes in the arena were animals? Or maybe when she volunteered for the Hunger Games like it would be a walk in the park? It’s hard to say exactly, there’s a lot of moments in these past few weeks where she could’ve gone wrong.

At any rate, she’s got enough water to last her a while. You can confidently say that she won’t be leaving the cornucopia unless it’s to get more food. There’s no way that the sponsors are going to cough up any money just for her to eat. Especially when she’s supposed to be trained for the arena. She should know how to hunt and gather. Besides, you’re sure that Gloss would want them to wait until it’s something important, like that healing cream. Even then, it took a couple of people to pitch in. The prices are getting amped up, it’s harder to pay for things now.

You have a feeling that she’s sitting down there for a reason, instead of going off and trying to hunt down any other tributes. She’s healed by now, you watched her put more healing cream on her body last night before she decided to call it a night. Which means that this morning, the entire wound has got to be gone. She’s still going to be sore when moving around, but that’s an obvious nuisance. She technically should be able to work through it.

So, if she’s not interested in hunting Tekla, that means she’s waiting for Annie to come out of the village. And you’d say that’s a pretty big problem, except for the fact that it’s not. Annie’s got plenty of food and water from her raid on the career backpacks and whatever Marsh was holding before he died. If she doesn’t want to, she won’t have to leave the house unless it’s for some sort of Capitol-generated emergency.

After yesterday, you can’t see them doing something like that. You don’t even think that both tributes dying were intentional. They like to watch the last couple of teens fight it out, since they’re the ones that are either: one, completely trained for the arena and know how to take another tribute out with a simple tree branch and a rock. Or, they’re completely lucky and know how to blend into their surroundings and stay there until the Capitol is forced to step in. They only do it when there’s been several days without any interaction between tributes and the Capitol citizens are starting to riot.

Those tributes are the ones that can go days without food. Water, not so much, but they’ll find a source nearby and stick with it as long as they can without getting suspicious. It’s not an impressive feat to go days without eating, it just goes to show the horrible living conditions inside of the other districts. Fortunately, your family hit rock bottom, but you never had to keep digging.

As for Annie, she’s still looking pretty dead inside of her house. She’s moved to a different corner that gives her a better look to see. It looks like she’ll doze off for a second before jerking upright, hand tightening around her sword. You saw her sleep last night, it was the whole reason why you and Finnick decided it was acceptable to leave the betting room in the first place. With the peace of mind of knowing that Annie was finally getting the rest she needed.

When you were at the bar, you didn’t really keep track of what was going on inside of the arena. Which, looking back on it, probably wasn’t a brilliant idea in the first place. If there was an emergency with Annie, knowing as soon as possible would’ve hypothetically saved her life. But you also just wanted one moment for yourself, with Finnick and a drink. It wasn’t much to ask for, and you’re sure that it was well-deserved. If it wasn’t, Annie would be dead in a ditch right now.

To some extent, she might as well be. While Sanguin is fueled with hate-fire right now--literally. Annie looks like her soul has been ripped out of her body. She’s pale, the previous kind girl light in her eyes is gone. She looks like a corpse, freshly pulled out of the coffin. You wish you’ve seen this before, because maybe that would make it easier to understand why she isn’t grieving like normal. Normally, tributes cry for hours, sometimes days until they have to pull it together to win. Annie is just… she’s completely lifeless. Actually, she looks like she’s given up with trying to survive inside of the arena. Which is a dangerous mindset to adapt, especially now.

Just two more tributes to burn through, all she has to do is hold on. Let Sanguin and Tekla fight it out, hope that one kills the other, and the one gets severely injured enough to bleed out and die. It would make the whole thing a lot easier on her, you know that. The last thing she’d probably need on her plate right now, is another death. She’s already got two genuinely impressive ones--taking out the male careers? You’re the only other person who has done that in the past five years. And she’s witnessed the death that would affect her, and it’s taking its toll already. It’s been two days.

Well, as long as Annie stays where she is, eats, drinks and sleeps when she needs to, she won’t have to worry about anything. However, this idea also goes for Sanguin, on the assumption that Tekla isn’t bold enough to go ahead and attack her uninvited. Sanguin’s also set for days--if she has extra food stored somewhere in the case of emergencies.

The only person that might get bored and start causing havoc is Tekla. She’s in the woods by herself, in a patch of grass unguarded by trees. She lays in the sun with her eyes closed, hands laced behind her head. Looking exactly like she did on the first couple of days inside of the arena. This time, she has a good reason to be carefree. Before, she had more than ten other tributes to worry about, all fighting to go home. Now it’s down to two others. It should be a walk in the park, if it weren’t for the fact that she’s being put up against two careers.

You wonder what her odds look like right now. They hadn’t changed last night, not even after she killed Seven boy. But now that it officially looks like she’s going to make it to one of the final fights and be crowned victor, she’s gotta have moved up. District Nine hasn’t had a victor in a long, long time. Their last one was a guy, and he’s the first male to be put into the mentor spot. If you remember correctly, there’s only five victors in Nine, which means that four of them are female.

Figures that their new potential victor would be a girl, right?

It looks like you don’t really have anything to worry about arena-wise. Really, if you wanted to, you could just stay inside of the apartment. With half-alive Annie, vengeful Sanguin and cheerful Tekla, it’s safe to say that today’s a free day. Things could change, but that’s just your prediction. The only reason you’d have to go down to the betting room is to show up for Gloss, but he doesn’t really matter, does he? You can just go and see him tomorrow.

“You’ve got a look on your face.” Finnick says, your eyes find him to see that he’s staring.

“So?” you stab a strawberry and place it in your mouth, resisting the momentary sour expression before the sweetness takes over.

“It’s your indecisive look.”

Now, your face twists, “I do not have an indecisive look--”

He laughs, “It’s unmistakable! You get the look when you’re thinking over something important.”

“Like a decision?” you ask, trying to be serious, but you end up laughing.

He seems to let it go for a moment, until he’s looking at you again, “What was it?”

You shrug, “I was just thinking that we wouldn’t have to go down to the betting room if we didn’t want to. The silence in the arena gives us a couple of liberties that we wouldn’t have on a normal day.”

“Oh, so you do have a relaxed side.” Finnick thoroughly enjoys the face you make, raising your fist as a threat to punch him in the arm again. You wonder how far he can push you before you finally give him a nasty bruise, “And you also woke me up for nothing.”

“Technically you woke yourself, I just spoke.” you shrug, “Can I get some more coffee?”

“Might as well go back to bed while I can, then.” Finnick says, but he doesn’t move from where he’s sitting.

You wait, receive your coffee, and let him stare at you for a little while, “What are you waiting for?”

“It wouldn’t be responsible--” he mocks the word in your voice, “--to go back to bed, wouldn’t it?”

You glare, “Finnick, you have the night shift, anyway. Stay awake, go back to bed, get drunk at The Victory Speech, have dinner with Gloss, I don’t give a shit.”

“You seem like you want me to go away.” he says, “I think I’ll stick with you, then.”

“Fine by me.” you scoop up your coffee mug, taking it with you when you go downstairs to sit on the couch. You pull out a coaster to not ruin the pristine glass table.

There’s not much to watch the tributes do at all. Sanguin roasts her food, and you think she ends up daydreaming some, because she burns the bottom side of the meat. Doesn’t even wrinkle her nose or look fazed when she bites straight into that part, even when it disintegrates in her mouth the more she chews. After she’s done eating, she moves to the back of the cornucopia, hiding behind a stack of boxes to take a nap.

Annie turns her knife over in her hand, spinning it between her fingers before she knicks herself one too many times. After that, she settles for pulling out a line of rope from her backpack, tying and untying knots. It’s a common hobby that people use to soothe anxiety and pass time when there’s nothing else to do. Doesn’t surprise you that she’s resorted to this. Although, you do begin to worry slightly when you watch her jump at the slightest of sounds and nearly get up every single time to check.

You’d say it’s a reasonable response, thinking that Sanguin is after her. But the house creaks the same way every time, lets out the same groan each time the wind blows too hard. It’s not like they’re new sounds. She should’ve picked up on this by now, realized that there’s no need to get ready to hurry into battle. Watching her grab her knife, lean forward, and listen for any other sounds over and over begins to make you feel antsy.

“There’s something wrong with Annie.” Finnick says.

You hum, “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“What do you think it is?”

You shake your head, “Still working on that idea.”

“Anything you’ve seen before?”

“If I have, I don’t remember.” You lean back into the couch, “Let’s just wait and see how bad it gets.”

And the truth is, it gets worse, because it can always get worse. The good news is that you’ve figured out how to help her, on top of figuring out the problem in the first place. The bad news is that it requires a sponsor. And like you said earlier, all the prices have gone up. Getting one now would be a nightmare, but you have to try anyway.

As you go down to the betting room with Finnick, you think it over.

Annie is suffering from paranoia. She’s obviously shell-shocked from watching Marsh die, otherwise she would be acting normally. You guess that allowing two tributes that have known each other for a handful of years, go inside of the arena together wasn’t the brightest idea. But it’s not like you could control it. You don’t think that they even planned for it to happen, it was just a coincidence.

This is just one part of the problem, watching Marsh die. She also might be feeling guilty because she didn’t try harder to keep him from going. It makes the most sense. She tried to convince him to stay, but the second he showed resistance, she caved and followed. Guilt like this will haunt someone forever. If she wins, she’ll be stuck with thinking that Marsh could’ve gone a better way.

You know this, because you carry around a considerable amount of guilt, too.

The last part, concerning Annie, is the fact that she hasn’t slept in a while. Paranoia feeds off insomnia. Getting an hour or two of sleep after watching your friend die right in front of you, in arguably one of the worst ways possible, is an unfortunate series of events. She can’t prevent not being able to sleep, so you’ll just help her as best as you can.

When you presented all of this to Finnick, he agreed. Said that he was thinking something along the lines of what you are. The only hiccup that he’s worried about is finding sponsors wealthy enough to sponsor this late into the games. They also have to be betting on her too, so that if she does win, they’ll get the return in full.

The betting room seems slightly busier than usual. Like you predicted earlier, Gloss decided to go ahead and take company in the Capitol people. Tekla’s mentor seems busy off in the corner, with people that don’t look like they nearly have enough money to sponsor this late in the game. It wouldn’t be any use trying to steal them, just a waste of time.

Gloss knows people, but that would mean to interrupt what he’s doing right now, which seems fairly important. The group of people that Finnick had approved of is thin, pooling their money together wouldn't even buy a loaf of bread. Much less what you’re thinking about right now.

It only leaves a couple of people, ones you haven’t talked to in days. You stop a couple of steps inside of the room, allowing Finnick to come in and shut the door behind him. He waits there for a moment, before coming around the side.

“What are you waiting for?” His voice is slightly hushed. No one has really taken notice of your appearance just yet. If needed, you could probably slip out the door and no one would know the difference.

You look at him.

You made an agreement, take his advice on who to be around and who to stay away from, and he’ll help you. You thought that it would be easy then, because you didn’t need the sponsors. Annie and Marsh had a strategy down, they didn’t look like they’d be needed help anytime soon. They had everything they needed at the moment. But now that Annie needs something more, you’re stuck.

Having Finnick around to be a second body, a second pair of hands and eyes and ears, has made a difference. You’ve slept well, you’ve been allowed to hang out with friends when given the opportunity, and you can finally pace yourself. No more running around like it’s life or death, or being afraid to sleep because an arena is particularly dangerous.

However, you can do it alone. Annie’s needs right now is going to come before whatever requirements Finnick has. Bringing a tribute home is crucial, buddying with Finnick is a perk. If he gets mad at you for this, there's always next year.

“I need you to come with me and not intervene, or go back upstairs.” You say, squeezing the finger your ring is on.

His face twists, “It depends—“

“No. You go upstairs, or you don’t intervene.” You start towards the sponsors, “I mean it, Finnick.”

You’re not even halfway across the room before they spot you. You smile at them, letting them welcome you. When you don’t feel Finnick’s presence behind you like normal, you turn to look. The door is sweeping shut, you briefly catch a glimpse of him leaving.

The sponsors are happy to see you again, you talk with them for a while, and watch what goes on inside of the arena. It’s all small talk, or questions about what you feel like is going to happen. Until they finally bring up Annie, how she’s doing. And just because you can’t hold it in, you spill it all out, being completely honest with them.

Annie is hurting right now, and she can’t help it. She can’t simply fall asleep because she’s afraid of the nightmares and the vulnerability that comes with it. There’s always the possibility that her body simply isn’t letting her sleep, too. She’s not physically tired, so why would she lay down and try? So, you think that if you find something that’ll make her drowsy, she’ll feel more inclined to.

You can’t guarantee that it’ll work, but it’s worth a try if it means that she wins the games, right? The sponsors seem to think so, and with a budget, you bring them over to the sponsoring table. Everything under the sun is allowed to be sent to them. Name it, and thye’re probably have it. It’s just the price that makes it impossible to work around.

You know for sure that pills are out of the question. The second you see the price, you’re switching gears. Medicine? Maybe. You look at all the options they have for tributes for when they’re sick. You’ve seen a handful of these brands in District Four, all of them expensive. With the money that the Capitol gives you, you can finally afford them. Which means that Alyssum doesn’t have to suffer through colds like before. The medicine works wonders, but the Capitol version will be too much for her to handle. It might as well be a tranquilizer.

Something more natural, then. Those are always cheaper. You go through it, seeing the little vials of brightly colored liquids and the contents. Ones to make you throw up, give adrenaline if the tribute is dying, allergy medicine to save them from anaphylactic shock. And finally, one for sleeping. Without a moment of hesitance, you tap on it.

They all pitch in a certain amount, allowing the vial to be covered in full. You thank them, with assurance that it won’t go to waste. Annie is a tough tribute, she’ll be able to win. All she needs is a little sleep to reset her body, hopefully start her over. It’s like shutting something completely off before trying again.

You take a breath before writing on the paper, ‘Drink it all’.

You get to stand back and watch as the gamemakers find the best way to send it to her. You don’t doubt that she’ll hear the noise that the gifts make. Especially if she’s hearing noises that aren’t being picked up on the microphones. It’s where they have to drop it off to make sure it doesn’t get caught on anything on the way down, like a corner of a roof.

The chiming is a sound that you still hear in your nightmares. You watch as the silver parachute glides through the air, slowly moving between the houses. At first, it doesn’t seem to alarm Annie, but then she jolts, pauses to make sure she’s hearing it right, and then gets up. She shoves her knife into her belt, carefully goes down the stairs so that it doesn’t break beneath her.

She looks more alive like this, the color has returned to her face slightly, she’s got a smile hinting at the corner of her lips. When she finally comes out of the house, swinging the door open and letting in the natural light, she cries out in shock and covers her eyes. She mutters out a few curse words, squinting through the sun until her eyes adjust.

She spots the gift in the middle of the walkway. The smile grows more, scooping the tin into her hand. She gives the area around her a little look-around before disappearing back into the house, shutting the door and locking it. Even though it looks like the lock won’t do much for her anymore. The doorknob is practically falling off.

She makes it all the way to the third floor, back into the corner of her room. She slips down the wall and pops open the lid of the container. The first thing that Annie sees inside is the note, which she reads over carefully before moving it out of the way for the vial. It’s small, not at all as big as they normally sell them earlier on, but those ones also have the tendency to knock a person out for a whole day. This will just keep her asleep for a few hours, maybe the entire night if she drinks it now. You hope that she’ll be up at a reasonable time tomorrow.

Annie uncaps it carefully, and takes a small sniff. You can’t imagine that she recognizes the smell, even though it is sort-of distinct. If the medicine is fresh, it’ll usually smell sweet. If it’s not, then it’s stale, maybe a little sour. Obviously, one is more desirable than the other, but it works the same either way. Whether or not it’s fresh doesn’t affect the way it works.

When Annie is satisfied with the smell, she goes ahead and caps it again. There’s no directions, so she’s going to have to decide how she wants to do this. The sun will be setting in an hour, maybe two. Annie eats some dry foods, drinks some water. It’s smart, her wanting to get food into her body beforehand. If it were you, you probably would’ve just settled for drinking it straight, it might have worked faster that way.

She drinks it, slipping to the floor. She pulls the sleeping bag over herself, closing her eyes. It’s going to take a second to kick in, but it’s enough time for you to go upstairs and out of the betting room. You’ll be back down here bright and early tomorrow, there’s no point spending more time than you have to.

You thank the sponsors, shake hands and exchange hugs. Before you leave the room, you see that the Afternoon Line Odds are all the same. Sanguin’s is 2-1, Annie is 3-1, Tekla is 7-1. All very good odds, but not as good as Sanguin. Hopefully, that’ll change within the next couple of days. You leave the room before Gloss can see that you’re down there.

You spent a good hour or so just talking to the sponsors. The fastest part was getting them to agree on sending Annie a gift. It wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it would be. Finnick makes all of them out to be like criminals, constantly looking for their next fix. But they understand that you’re not like that. They can have their eyes on you all they want, it’s not going to happen.

Just before you go inside of the apartment, you’re sure that Finnick isn’t going to be out in the living room, or he’s not going to be inside of the apartment all together. However, when you step inside, you’re surprised to see that he’s on the couch, his arms crossed. He doesn’t bother to look over, not even after you shut the door. You almost feel guilty for doing what you did.

Almost.

You sit on the couch next to him, pull your legs up beneath you, and sit in silence. There’s no point to try and talk to him right now. You know that he’d probably like a moment to cool off. It might even be better if you didn’t sit in here at all, so he won’t be fuming next to you. But it’s not like you have much of a choice. You can’t just go back downstairs and sit in the betting room, that would be stupid. If Finnick’s right about the sponsors, there’s no reason to stay around them more than you have to.

So, silence it is. It’s a while before either of you have anything to talk about. Annie should be asleep by now, an entire hour later. There’s no way that the vial would take more than five minutes, even with a full stomach. Still, you watch as her eyes open, a frown appearing on her face, eyebrows turning in.

Your mouth falls open, you stand from the couch, “That’s not good.”

“What did you give her in the first place?” Finnick asks.

“It’s one of those natural sleeping medicines, the expensive ones?” you briefly look at him, before you go back to the tv, “Costed a fortune, so it should’ve worked. The gamemakers wouldn’t send a dud, right?”

“Probably not.”

You sit back down onto the couch, hands falling into your lap. You made sure that it was the sleeping medicine, and not the sick stuff either. The only other option that was left for Annie besides this, was the herbal tea. And that shit hardly ever works for you, or your siblings when you use it back home. The most the tea would do anyway, is make her drowsy, not even a guarantee.

It’s a good thing that you didn’t even consider the tea, because if the vial did nothing, Annie would be able to drink the entire box of tea and still not feel a single thing. The medicine was a waste of money, and who knows what it’s going to do to her. Make her even more delirious than she already is? Like she, or you guys, need that at all. You were already worried over her paranoia, now you’ve got to be worried about her accidentally killing herself?

There’s nothing you can do about it now. You’ve just got to sit back and wait to see if it kicks in, after all. There’s no point in going downstairs to tell the sponsors it was some sort of mistake, because you really didn’t know that this was going to happen. If you did, you probably wouldn’t have bothered in the first place. Everything is worth a try until it’s wasting resources. You might have been able to use the sponsor money later on.

Still, you have to sit and painfully watch as Annie progressively gets worse. Turns out, that if you don’t fall asleep with the medicine, it starts to work as a hallucinogenic. On top of Annie’s paranoia, she’s not hallucinating she’s hearing noises, and maybe even seeing things. You close your eyes and rest them against your palms when you lean forward, not really liking to hear Annie go through it.

It’s stupid. You’re not even sure how Annie’s resisting the drug, anyway. She’s not doing it on purpose, she clearly recognized the smell if she laid down immediately after. And it’s not like they had any sort of drugs available for hallucinations. No mentor would willingly give their tributes something like that, so why would it be offered?

No matter what happens, though, you’re glad to see that Annie doesn’t leave the house. She stays where she is, clutching onto her knife, staring into space. She’s just like how she was before you sent her the sponsor gift. Only this time around, she’ll randomly jump as if there’s been a loud sound, and then her eyes will follow things in front of her, even when there’s nothing there.

Elysia comes into the apartment around the same time you guys normally eat dinner, a little out of breath, “Oh, there you guys are!”

You look over your shoulder to see that she’s dressed in lime green and black. The black helps accentuate the green part, which you’re not really sure is a good thing. You’re sure that everyone can see her coming from a mile away, literally.

“You were looking for us?” you ask, she nods, heading over to you and Finnick.

“In the betting room, I thought you’d be down there since you normally are.”

Figures that the one time you wouldn’t be down there, she’d go, “Looked like there wasn’t much going on today so I thought we could stay up here. I only went down there to send the gift.”

“I saw that.” she says, “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

You three do it over dinner. With Elysia hardly eating and doing most of the talking, Finnick watching the tv and only chiming in when he’s needed, and you trying to do all three at the same time. It’s easy for the most part. Remember when you said that you got good at multitasking? This is an example of that.

She mostly tells you what you already figured out, which is that it turns out to be a hallucinogenic after a while. It should wear off, but it’ll take hours to do. Like, for the amount of time she should have been asleep for. She’s already got a couple of hours under her belt, you’d say that by tomorrow morning, she’ll be back to normal. So, there’s no reason to sit around and wait.

You and Finnick can get a full night of sleep for once. You just have to get up early tomorrow morning to assess the damage. You’re sure that it’ll be fairly easy to do, you’ll have to get yourself into the habit of waking up early again, anyway. You’ve got the boarding school to worry about. Anchor won’t want to do it alone forever.

Before you give it up tonight, you check the tv one last time. Annie is in her room, so she’s fine. Sanguin looks like she’s officially laying down to sleep, her weapons are displayed around her, all ready to be picked up and used at any time. As for Tekla, she’s made a bed in her little clearing in the trees. However, she’s bold, with a fire going that is distinguishable in the dark. She’s lucky that the back of the cornucopia is turned towards her, otherwise Sanguin would be more than tempted to take Tekla out.

You head back to your room after dinner, mainly to brush your teeth. You pace in your room for a moment, caught in the decision of whether or not to talk to Finnick or to leave him to be angry on his own. You’re sure that he’d appreciate being by himself, but there’s also this morning and last night to talk about. You can’t really just leave those alone, who knows what kinds of problems they’ll cause in the future.

“Okay.” you sigh, heading out of your room and to his. You knock on his door, waiting a second, “Finnick?”

It’s a couple more beats of silence, “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

You open the door to see that Finnick is sitting on the corner of the bed. He looks up when you step inside, you shut it behind you, and lean against the door, “I’m sorry about earlier. I know we had an agreement, but the sponsors were at my disposal. I decided that I might as well, because I was sure that it would work.”

“And it should’ve.” Finnick mutters, “I would just like it if you wouldn’t go and do it again.”

“Yeah, I won’t. I don’t even have the options for it.” you laugh slightly, he cracks a smile, “You should probably know that I prioritize my mentoring job over everything else. If it’s the needs of the tributes versus you, I’m going to pick the tributes every time.”

“I know, you don’t have to be sorry for it.”

“Good, cause I wasn’t.” you grin.

Finnick rolls his eyes, “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“You can probably guess what it is.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the horribly covered up hickeys, would it?” He’s cheeky now.

“Maybe.” you give him a soft smile, “I’d just like to know what we’re doing, and if we’re going to continue on with it.”

Finnick makes a face, “This is going to sound like shit, but I’ll go with what you want.”

“You’re right, it does sound like shit.” he laughs first, and then you join in, “The thing is, Finnick, is that I don’t have a problem with it. But the last time I checked, you were the one that told me that we weren’t good together. So are you sure that you’ll go with what I want, or are you going to break up with me in a couple of months after you realize it again?”

Finnick opens his mouth, and then closes it. “I deserve that.”

“It wasn’t an explanation, Finnick. In fact, it made things worse when we were just fine on the train, and then you come back from seeing Snow and--!” you’re shaking your head, giving yourself a moment before you start speaking again, “and suddenly I was supposed to know that we weren’t together anymore.”

“But you know why now, right?” Finnick asks.

“Parts of it.” you rub on the ring, “I know that it was because of Snow and the sex work. He made you break up with me to make you more available to the Capitol, right?”

“No, I actually made that decision myself.” he says.

You raise your eyebrows.

Finnick stares, tilts his head for a moment like he’s unsure, “There’s more to it.”

You wait, thinking that he’s just going to give up the information, but he doesn’t, “Okay…?”

“I don’t want to make you feel guilty.”

“Then why’d you say anything at all?”

He laughs, “To not make me look like an asshole.”

You snort.

“Alright well,” Finnick pauses, “President Snow had me taken to his mansion after the train, you know this. He told me that it’s not uncommon for victors to be well received by the Capitol, but I was different because I was handsome or whatever,” his face twists, “And since I was sixteen, I was finally eligible since it’s more morally correct to sell a teen into sex slavery when they’re sixteen and not fourteen.

“Snow said that I didn’t have a choice. I had to get into it or…” Finnick shakes his head, “There wasn’t even an or at the time. He just said that it was something I had to do, and I told him no, because I was finally feeling better and I had you. Then he urged me to say yes, didn’t even tell me that there would be consequences, so I told him no again….”

He’s angry, “And he fucking killed my entire family, gave the order right in front of me. I thought he was kidding, like it was some sort of sick joke until I had to fucking listen to it.” Finnick looks at you, “He didn’t even flinch when the screaming started, or when my brother started crying. I didn’t even know what to do. And after it was over he told me that the next person he’d kill next would likely be you, or your family if he could get to them. Or worse, sell your body too.”

You can feel the blood drain from your face.

“And I didn’t want that to happen, so I said yes. And then I broke up with you because I hoped that it would make the decision a whole lot easier but I think…” he grits his teeth, “I know it would’ve been easier with you to support me.”

No words form in your mouth, you stand in silence as you try to absorb the information.

“I’m…” your eyebrows draw in, “...selfish.”

“No.” Finnick says, “You’re not. You didn’t know, how were you supposed to? I told you nothing, I wanted a clean cut but it turned out to be messy, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, Finnick?” you look at him, “I’ve been giving you a hard time--why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you come around later?”

“Because you moved on, like you should’ve.”

“I didn’t!” you laugh, moving forward, “Finnick, I hardly spoke to anyone after the year we broke up. My brothers fucking hated you for that entire year because of it. It took forever to convince them otherwise. The entire time, I was hoping that you were going to come around and tell me that it was some stupid prank. I would’ve forgiven you!”

He gives you a smile, “It’s better that I didn’t.”

You give him a look, and then sit on the hammock, “I guess that explains a lot.”

“You guess?” He laughs, “That’s it?”

“There’s not much to say, Finnick.” you shrug, “You said you didn’t want to make me feel guilty and I do anyway.”

“I didn’t have a choice. If you want, you could thank me for saying yes.”

You stare at him, he develops a cheeky smile, “Come on, that was mildly funny.”

“Mildly is the key word.”

The two of you sit in silence for a second, and then you dip your head, “I would be willing to give it another try, if you are.”

“Yeah.”

He’s got a grin on his face, like you just told him he’s getting a car for christmas.

“My brother’s will have to warm up to you again.” you warn him.

“Okay! They liked me before, right? What’s one more time?”

“They hardly give out second chances so you’ll have to consider yourself lucky.”

Finnick softly smiles, “I already am.”

A sharp pain in your chest wakes you in the morning. Your eyes shoot open, sitting upright in bed. It spreads immediately, like your heart is pumping it out; the source of the problem. You try and take a deep breath, hoping that you’ll get your mind off of it, but it makes the pain worse. Mid-breath, you stop, and exhale too deeply, causing another shock to go through you.

A groan leaves your lips, tears appearing in your eyes. You carefully get out of bed, wanting to be on your feet, hoping that laying down was the problem. You make no sudden moves, allowing the blood to make its way to your feet as you pace the room. With your palm, you rub small circles around your chest, which seems to relieve some of the pressure.

The clock on the stand reads eight in the morning, four hours before you actually have to get up and get ready for the day. You have a feeling that if you go and lie back down now, right when the pain is beginning to subside, you’re only going to make it worse. Plus, you don’t think that you’ll be able to fall back asleep, not with the adrenaline running through your body.

You take deep breaths when it doesn’t hurt, starting to feel dizzy from the self-hyperventilation. In no time, the pain is almost completely gone, only lingering in aches every now and then. You stand around for a few minutes longer, watching the sun rise high enough to finally come through the window before deciding that you might as well get ready.

The Tribute Center seems to have found its happy medium between too hot and too cold, as last night it was like existing in a frozen tundra. You’re lucky that the blanket they provide retains heat, otherwise you would’ve been bundled up a lot more than you were. Because of this, you think that you can settle for a lukewarm shower.

You lock your bedroom door before disappearing into the bathroom. The shower runs in the background as you undress, throwing all the dirty clothes by the door. You look over the tattoo on your collarbone, which is practically done healing by now. With the cream that the tattoo artist gave you, it doesn’t take weeks to heal like it does in the districts. As for the one on the back of your neck, it looks like it was done yesterday, when really it was years ago.

When you step inside the shower, you allow the water to run through your hair. You might as well wash it today. The shampoo you use smells like straight sugar, same goes for the conditioner. The bottle says it’s good for your hair, but the list of chemicals on the back is seriously concerning. The bathroom provides a matching body wash that smells exactly like the shampoo. You know for a fact that you saw a body lotion in one of the drawers, a part of you wonders if that’ll be overkill.

You turn the shower off and let the machines dry your body and hair. You decide to use the body lotion anyway, and by the time you realize that it’s glittery, it’s too late. You stare at your hands for a couple of minutes in shame, watching the white shimmer in the light. However, when it’s completely spread over your body and dried, it doesn’t transfer onto your surroundings, so that’s a good sign.

You brush your teeth while manually putting your hair together. You go for half-up, half-down since it’ll keep most of the hair out of your face. In the end, you still pull out a few strands to make sure that your face isn’t bland. Before you can do anything else, you have to get dressed.

The dresser holds plenty of skirts to work with, which you’re not opposed to. You sift through them, figuring that white will be fine. When you hold it up to your hip, you see that the skirt ends above the knee, so Finnick won’t have a reason to freak out. As for the shirt, you settle for a light pink, scoop neck bodysuit, with white underwear. When you finally get the entire outfit put together, you look at yourself in the mirror.

You’re very pretty today. The skirt doesn’t ride up too bad, even when you move quickly. The bodysuit prevents anything serious from showing, just in case the skirt does find a way to get stuck, or you spin too fast. You apply mascara, pull on white slip-on tennis shoes and the ring. Needless to say, you’re looking extremely girly today.

The clock says it’s reaching nine, you’d say that breakfast will take thirty, and then you can meet Finnick in the betting room at ten. So, you go out to the dining room to see that Elysia is nowhere to be seen. You refuse to believe that she left before you got up, she has to be sleeping in. Normal Capitol people stay up late and rise at noon. But then again, Elysia is an escort and she’s far from normal sometimes.

An avox turns on the tv, so you sit down at the table and wait as they serve brunch in front of you. It’s hashbrowns, steak, and a bowl of assorted fruit. You pick through your food, not super hungry and in the mood for all of it. Nevertheless, you’re sure to thank the avox that serves it to you, and continues to come back around to give you orange juice and coffee.

The arena screen is split into three, which isn’t new. It was like this last night, since there aren't many tributes to focus on at the moment. If there’s only three, you might as well show all of them and what they’re doing. At least one of them has to be doing something mildly interesting.

Tekla is still in her small clearing in the trees, which is fairly close to the dam, now that the gamemakers have marked it on the map. It’s a beautiful place to rest, you’d even picnic there if you had the opportunity. It’s not a good spot, though. It’s too close to the dam, too easy to kill her if and when it breaks. Still, she lays on her back, eyes closed. You can’t tell if she’s awake or not, but you’re going to guess that she is, judging by how her hands are intertwined over her stomach.

If she were sleeping, she’d probably be more annoyed by the sun. Instead, she’s directly under it, which might actually end up giving her a sunburn if she isn’t careful. That’ll be miserable to work with inside of the arena. You can’t even do anything to remedy the burn this far in, except for natural leaves and plants. You can’t think of any off the top of your head that you’ve seen so far.

Sanguin is in the cornucopia, she’s awake and stretching. She doesn’t look tired, despite the fact that it’s obvious that she just got up. Judging by her ratty blonde hair and the way her face twists each time she leans over. She stands up straight, and then grins slightly, turning around and going back inside. She combs through her hair with her fingers and sits on the edge of a box, sword right next to her. Maybe she’s planning on going out hunting today? You hope she doesn’t actually think she’ll get anything out of the village.

Especially with how awful Annie is looking. She’s got her arms wrapped around her body, knees pulled to her chest. The good news is that she looks to be asleep, mouth slightly open, leaned up against the connecting wall in the corner. But she’s got deep purple bags beneath her eyes, she’s only recently fallen asleep. You wonder how long it’ll last before she’s jolting awake.

It’s good that she’s sleeping, with no thanks to the medicine that you sent her. It probably drove her insane into early this morning, like you said would happen last night. You’d say that it’s a good thing, but with the way that Sanguin keeps looking to the village, it’s not. Annie needs to get up and be ready for a fight. Unfortunately, there’s no way you can warn her of this. You’re all out of options.

You finish your food, thank the avoxes, and leave for the betting room. There’s not a lot going on right now, it’s early morning. Everything big that happens in the arena is normally dedicated towards the afternoon to the evening, for the gamemakers at least. As for the tributes, they’re welcome to make and wreak havoc as they please, when they see fit.

The betting room is quiet and empty when you get down there. Finnick and Gloss are sitting by each other on the couch. You hold the doorknob on the door, carefully setting it against the doorframe so that they won’t hear you. If they thought that you scaring them was bad when they were semi-expecting you, it’s going to be worse when you’re supposed to be sleeping.

You stand behind them for a moment, squinting down at them, wondering if they have the same sixth sense that you do when people are standing over you. Your question is answered when Finnick barely glances over his shoulder, and then jumps three feet in the air when he realizes that they’re not alone. Gloss has the same moment, inhaling sharply.

A laugh erupts from you as you go around the couch to sit on the arm next to Finnick, “You two are too easy.”

“You’re like a fucking ghost, I didn’t even hear you come in.” Gloss says.

“That was on purpose.” you cross a leg beneath your thigh, “Woke up early by accident, thought that it wouldn’t hurt to come down and keep you two company for a little while.”

“Well, the afternoon schedule was nice while it lasted.” Finnick mutters.

Your face twists, you look down at him, “You’re a bad liar. There’s no way you like waking up at midnight and going to bed at noon.”

Finnick tilts his head for a moment, making a face, “I mean…”

You slap the side of his head before he can say anything else, “You don’t have to prove you’re a teenage boy.”

The Morning Line Odds say that everyone is still at where they were yesterday, so there’s no need to take in new information. You’re really just left to sit and wait for anything important to happen inside of the arena. In the meantime, you talk to Finnick and Gloss about the unusual silence. With your guys’ luck, it’s not going to last very long. There’s no way that the gamemakers will allow two normal days in a row.

However, today’s the ninth day of the games. You’re sure they’re going to want to keep it going on for a little while longer, so maybe they will allow fate to be in the tribute’s hands. In that case, you all might as well buckle up for a long day, because it’s going to take hours for Sanguin to make it to Annie, with the pace she’s going right now.

It’s almost ten in the morning when people begin showing up inside of the betting room. All brightly dressed, and particularly chatty this morning. This is when you decide to officially sit between Finnick and Gloss, not wanting the sponsors to see that you’re in a skirt today. Finnick seems happy, which is all that matters.

Unfortunately, Annie wakes up. She jolts, eyes flying open as she reaches for her knife. She gets to her feet without a word, carefully making her way across the bedroom to the window, where she rubs it down to look outside of it. Her eyebrows are drawn together, staring straight at the dam.

She seems satisfied for a second, gently nodding to herself. She goes to move away, until Sanguin comes into clear view. For half a second, you think to yourself that it’s a good thing that Annie is paranoid, because she just spotted the threat she’s been waiting for. After that, Annie scoops up all of her belongings, not leaving a single trace that she was there, besides the now-clean window.

She carefully goes down the steps, making it to the base floor without falling through the floorboards. Outside, she takes a deep breath, shuts the door and tries to jam some rocks beneath the door to make it harder to open. She tiptoes in grass to make sure that there’s no footprints, makes it a few houses over before she even considers walking through the dirt again.

None of it matters in the end.

A thunderous crack echoes throughout the arena so loudly that it breaks the microphones and makes several people scream out in surprise. You all watch in deafening silence as the dam continues to crack, and water begins to spurt out in large streams.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Today is the day.

You stand from the couch, moving a few feet forward to see better. Finnick and Gloss join you, not a single word passes between you three as you watch in awe. If such small cracks are already sprouting in streams big enough to create rivers, then how will the rest of the water fare? You have no choice but to wait and watch.

The screen is now in four, with one long screen on top completely dedicated to the dam, and three bottom squares for the tributes.

Tekla is on her feet, already rushing down the hill. She’s got no weapons on her hand, no backpack to weigh her down. She’s left it all behind in her peaceful circle in the woods. She whips through bushes, swings around trees, barely makes it over root and rocks on her way down. She’s freaked, struggling to keep her hair out of her face, constantly tucking it behind her ears.

Her feet look like they have a mind of their own, though. With the way that she goes down, it’s almost like she’s dancing, how flowery it is. However, her panic isn’t easily masked. She’s obviously shaking, and sometimes she’ll fuck up and have to catch herself before it’s too late.

Sanguin is standing on top of the hill, everything still on her as she stares at the water making its way towards her. Her eyebrows are pushed together, trying to assess the situation and if it’s worth worrying over. The answer is yes, because it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the concrete blows, and she’s left with a real problem. She slowly turns her back to it, picking up her pace, jogging through the grass. She’s still carrying all of herself.

And finally, Annie is also running through the buildings, just as panicked as Tekla is. The only thing that Annie has is her knife, clutched with white knuckles. She’s as white as a sheet too, breathing heavily through her mouth. You can empathize with her, even if she’s a while away, she knows that she can still be reached.

Another large crack sounds, Tekla slaps her hands over her ears and risks a glance behind her. There’s a jagged horizontal crack that runs from the right side to the left. It’s a matter of time before it goes. The concrete is spider-webbing, developing into a worse problem. Tekla tries to quicken her pace, but there’s only so fast you can go downhill before you risk hurting yourself.

Sanguin has dropped her things, running as fast as she did to catch up with Bauhinia. Her feet slam into the ground, and launch her forward another couple of feet before she’s connecting with the dirt again. She makes it across the second lower clearing, going uphill again. Those hills are going to be an absolute killer when it comes to the water.

The gamemakers are evil. It’s been exactly nine days, ten minutes and forty seconds since the tributes got inside of the arena. You said a week and a half? It hasn’t even been that. They’re in a hurry to get the big event over before one tribute can kill another. Why? Because it’s more fun cheering on the running tributes than watching them kill each other. It’s like betting on a running horse, who’s going to make it to the finish line first?

Annie stops, taking in deep breaths as she watches the dam through a row of trees. She’s able to watch as the final crack breaks the dam open like an egg. Concrete and debris go flying into the trees as the water creates a nasty flattening path through the woods. Almost every tree that the front water initially hits, is uprooted and brought with.

Tekla’s scream is piercing, lasting a couple of seconds before she’s completely cut off. She doesn’t die immediately, you’re able to watch as the water brings her along. She’s suspended in the middle, legs kicking, hands wrapped around her throat. She has half the mind to hold her breath, so that’s good news. The bad is that she’s a quarter mile underwater. There’s no way she’ll make it to the surface in time, if she did know how to swim.

You think you’ll have to watch her drown when she runs out of air, but an entire tree branch goes straight through her back and out the middle of her chest. Bubbles erupt around her face, hands grabbing the wood just before the cannon sounds. One down, three to go.

Sanguin has one more hill to make it up before she’s in the village. Her arms are pumping, face a bright red, her glances over her shoulder are quick and spared. She doesn’t do it often because it slows her down, it’s a brief check to see how far ahead she is in front of the water. And the truth is that it’s catching up on her. Just like you said, the hills are a nightmare.

Not only because she has to run up them, which tires her out more. But because the water gains momentum and unpredictability with every hill it surges over. The water doesn't seem to endlessly pour out of the dam, though. It seems like the gamemakers had a prepared forcefield. They just wanted to let out a controlled amount of water. Big enough to kill a couple of tributes before it thinned out and became a minimal threat.

Sanguin starts uphill the same moment the water hits the hill just behind her. Down it goes for a couple of seconds, before it’s surging above her in a giant wave. Sanguin makes it into the village, running beneath the roofs as if it’ll protect her from the water. She runs straight for a while, before starting to zig zag towards the corner.

She must realize that it’s not worth it, and that the diagonal running only slows her down, because she goes back to running straight, heading closer and closer to where Annie had been staying.

Speaking of which, Annie’s on the run again. You can tell that she’s keeping track of the height of the water. Even though the houses are decades old, they seem to be slowing down the water, since they’re all individually filling up inside. Sanguin doesn’t seem too focused on the fact, mostly wanting distance. She’s almost on the brink of losing it, though. Her steps are getting sloppier the more she goes.

Annie goes around a corner and into an alleyway, effectively blocking the water from her sight. It’s stupid, she’s not going to be able to keep track of it the same way she has. Sanguin has a point when it comes to running straight away from the water.

And then she starts climbing the walls. With how narrow the walkway is, she can scoot her way up little by little. It burns a lot of her time, and cranks up your anxiety, watching her do this. You know that she’s trying to get herself above the tide now. The houses where she’s at, are at least two stories tall each, not counting the roof.

Annie grabs the gutters, using her arms to pull her onto the red-orange shingles. You get a glimpse from where she’s at now to see that the water is lower, but she’ll still have to swim, even if she gets onto the high point of the roof. She takes one last look at her knife before she frisbee’s it to her right, making sure that it’s far away from her when the water does come.

Sanguin is losing ground. Soon, she’ll be stuck swimming too. It seems like that their times are lining up. Annie bends her knees, cracks her fingers, prepares her arms. Sanguin’s glances get more and more frequent, anticipating the moment the water hits her.

Annie dives straight in, letting the water welcome her. She doesn’t waste time, swimming straight to the top. Her face is serious, she has her eyes locked on the surface, kicking her legs hard, arm over head. While Sanguin holds her breath, fingers squeezing her nose shut, eyes following the structures in front of her. She narrowly misses the wall of the first house, before slamming right into the neck.

Just like with Tekla, there’s a large burst of bubbles. Sanguin struggles now, trying to swim to the top. She makes a few inches at a time, but it’s hardly noticeable, or comparable with how well Annie is doing. In fact, she’s reached the surface already, inhaling loudly.

The water directs Sanguin into a wall again, this time her head cracks against the wall. The water turns a light shade around her head, and it’s minutes before the cannon finally sounds. Which signals the water to drain, lowering Annie onto a roof nearby.

Her dark hair is stuck to her face and neck, clothes completely drenched. Her mouth is slightly parted, breathing loudly.

You grab onto Finnick’s arm, “Oh my god.”

“Congratulations, guys.” Gloss has got a grin on his face, he slaps you on the back.

“She did it.” you say, “Annie’s done it!”

Claudius Templesmith’s, the announcer, voice comes over the arena, “Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Seventieth Hunger Games, from District Four, Annie Cresta!”

Annie’s face drains of color again, before it’s bursting in red, “I win.” she murmurs at first, barely audible, before tears of relief are filling her eyes. Much louder, this time she screams; “I win!”

REDAMANCY IS PART 2 OF A TRILOGY //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

@f1nal-g1rl / @starlight-selene / @neenieweenie / @amixedwitch / @accxio / @suranne-doesstuff

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #redamancy #redamancy chapter eight #finnick odair redamancy

56 notes · View notes

yellowmagicalgirl · 4 years ago

Text

and your kisses will be a secret i take to my grave

Douxie had always kept his romantic relationships quiet; it was a side effect of being a centuries old gay man used to bigoted reactions. And so, Douxie wouldn’t have minded if Krel was the one who told everyone. However, Krel was currently reverted to his core and unable to say anything.

This fic contains Rise of the Titans spoilers, do not read beyond this point if you don’t want spoilers!

I saw a theory somewhere on the internet that the green-and-gold orb that Douxie holds in the teaser trailer is keeping Krel’s core alive and my brain spat back this fic in response. The fic assumes that RotT takes place about two years after Wizards.

CW: major character coma as well as references to past period-typical homophobia, torture, death, Douxie being lowkey suicidal, and unwilling transformations.

AO3

FFN

Douxie sat down near the Queen of Akiridion-V. Far enough to be respectful, but close enough that he was still close to Krel. Or at least, what was left of Krel. His core was safely tucked in an orb made from Nari’s magic and some of the few remaining pieces of the Heart of Avalon. It wouldn’t last forever, even with Douxie and Claire routinely channeling magic into the device to help power it. One of their options was to stop in New Jersey to carve out a small chunk of the Heartstone and hope it would keep Krel alive, but in the end Aja and Varvatos would have to take him back to their home planet so he could recover in a stasis chamber since the ones in Arcadia had been destroyed.

“Do you need to...” Aja trailed off, looking between the orb and Douxie.

He shook his head. “Not yet. I just...”

“Douxie, right?” He nodded at the mention of his name. “My brother told me about you.”

“Oh?” Had Krel started telling people about their relationship without telling Douxie he had done so? Douxie supposed he didn’t mind, not when it would have taken the pressure off, but it would’ve been nice to have had a warning.

“Never many details, but he was always so lively when he talked about you. Are you two close?”

Well, they had been dating for a little over three weeks, but Douxie didn’t feel right telling people while Krel wasn’t able to say anything. It felt too much like outing Krel to his sister, despite how homophobia didn’t exist on Akiridion-V. Besides, Douxie had always kept his romantic relationships quiet; it was a side effect of being a centuries old gay man. Even when he found decades-long pockets of history where the people in the area were less bigoted, Douxie would have to move to avoid anyone realizing that he wasn’t aging.

Plus, he was a little intimidated by Aja. He wondered if it was the secretly dating her brother thing or if it was a fear of ruling monarchs that stemmed from the fact that he’d grown up with Arthur trying to kill people just like Douxie.

“I mean, I’d like to think we are,” Douxie said instead.

“I don’t like leaving him on the ship, not alone and like this, but I can’t carry him and fight at the same time.”

“Do you want me to carry him?”

Krel was gone.

It was Douxie’s fault that Krel was gone.

Bellroc and Skrael had taken the orb. None of the guardians could tell how Krel might factor into their plans, but they all knew that it wouldn’t be good for Krel.

Douxie had an idea, even though he hated it.

It was entirely possible that Krel didn’t hold any significance to the Arcane Order’s plan to bring about the apocalypse.

Aside from Douxie and Krel, the only two people who knew about their relationship were Archie and Nari. Douxie wouldn’t have been surprised if Nari was being tortured, and he knew that those being tortured would say anything to make the torture stop. He didn’t blame her, but he also knew that Bellroc and Skrael held a grudge against Douxie. They would want to punish him by taking everyone he loved from him, especially Douxie’s boyfriend that had helped to send the demigods hurtling through time.

It was entirely Douxie’s fault that Krel was gone.

Krel was either dead or dying, and it was unlikely that they’d be able to save him.

Douxie had sworn Archie to secrecy, so that no one would be allowed to learn the truth about Douxie and Krel’s relationship. At least, not until Douxie was as dead as Krel was. Archie had tried to talk Douxie out of it, to tell him that he should allow himself to be honest in his grief.

Douxie had brushed him off. It wouldn’t be the first time Douxie had publicly mourned his lover as a friend with only Archie to know better. It was just the first time that deep down, Douxie knew with his whole heart that if they’d told the world about their relationship before Krel had been hurt, no one would have turned on them for it.

Douxie ran down the halls of the fortress, cursing just how much of a maze this one was. He scrolled through his runes before finding the one that would magically enhance his hearing for a minute if he didn’t get too distracted. He then stopped and closed his eyes to try and listen. If he couldn’t hear anything, then he’d try the soul-sensing magic that Nari had tried to teach him, but it was better to start with something he knew how to do.

“We made you,” Bellroc cursed.

“This way!” Douxie called over his shoulder, running to where Bellroc was. Hopefully they were alone, because Douxie really didn’t want to have to fight both demigods at once again, especially not alone. He made stupid choices in the past, and he was grieving his lover, but he wasn’t that suicidal.

“No, you didn’t.” Douxie nearly stopped running when he heard the voice. It sounded impossibly familiar. His enhanced hearing stopped, but he was just close enough that he could make out the words. He continued running, magically willing himself to go faster.

“Oh, really?” Bellroc said. “It was the Arcane Order who made Gaylen powerful. It was us who bestowed that same power upon you when you would have died otherwise. You will help us summon the titans.”

“You may have forced me to integrate with the core, but I am not Gaylen. I am not Morando. I am not even my parents, nor who they expected me to be. I am no planet-killer, and I won’t kill my friends, family, or boyfriend for you either.”

And Douxie ran into the room in time to see Krel blast Bellroc through a swirling wormhole. It was cyan at the center, but the edges were violet and red. Just like Krel’s hair was now. There was also a pair of glowing red wings adorning his back.

“I thought they’d killed you,” Douxie said as he’d walked towards his boyfriend. A tearful smile began to form on his face.

Krel glanced at his wings. “No, but, I’m not the same person anymore.”

Douxie cupped Krel’s cheek. “I don’t care what they did to you. Well, I do care, but in the sense that I never want you to be hurt, not that it changes how I feel about you. I still love you.”

And then he kissed Krel. For a moment, the two of them were still, but then all four of Krel’s hands began to grasp at Douxie’s body, holding them close. As Krel began to deepen the kiss, his wings began to move, like he was trying to use them to hug Douxie.

“What?” Aja exclaimed, and Douxie and Krel jumped apart from each other. It was too late, Aja had seen them.

“Aja, I,” Krel started, taking a step towards her, but he stopped, looking at his wings. Aja ran to him, squeezing him tightly with all four of her arms.

“We thought you died, I thought I’d lost you like Mama and Papa,” she murmured. Krel stiffened.

“They merged me with Gaylen’s core, tried to make me their weapon.”

“But they didn’t manage with the last part.”

“Not really, they didn’t.”

Aja squeezed her brother more tightly before taking a step back. She crossed both pairs of arms, and her face shifted to a stern expression. It was, thankfully, a similar expression to one that Douxie had seen Claire give to her brothers, so hopefully she wasn’t too mad. “Now, is there something the two of you want to tell me?”

Krel took Douxie’s hand. “Aja, has my boyfriend ever tried to hurt you? Actually, wait, I know your hobbies, so has he ever tried to hurt you outside of a sparring match or anything like that? Because I doubt he has, and that’s already a leg up on when you started dating Steve.”

“He wasn’t exactly truthful.”

“I didn’t intend to lie to you, your majesty.” That managed to earn raised eyebrows from both of the twins. Fuzzbuckets, and he was trying to be polite. “I didn’t feel it was right to talk about our relationship when Krel wasn’t... around to confirm what I was saying.”

Aja sighed. “If you want to be a good boyfriend to my brother, you’ll need to do better at protecting him.” Krel began to protest this, likely about to reference the divinity that had been foisted upon him and how it probably made him more impervious to harm, but Aja held up a hand. “Then again, I’ll need to do the same to be a good sister.”

#rise of the titans #rise of the titans spoilers #tales of arcadia #tales of arcadia spoilers #krexie #hisirdoux casperan #aja tarron #torture tw #death tw #is the title too pretentious? probably but hey it's not a song lyric for once #my writing #toawizards #3below #bellroc #krel tarron #gaylen's core #gaylen!krel

45 notes · View notes

enternalempires · 4 years ago

Text

The Beauty of Purple

This is a Lukanette fic with an akuma and fair warning for mentions of abuse and bullying. Hope you guys enjoy (this is mostly just a cute drabble)! Also I am technologically inept so like, I can’t figure out how to make a link to my Ao3??? But if you want to check it out, my username is the same!

Purple was her and him, it was them.

But purple was also the color of anger, of heartbreak.

It was the color his father screamed through the house until his voice went raw and it was the color his knuckle turned after punching the wall. Purple is what his mother cloaked herself in when he left, like her whole body turned bruised with grief. Purple is the color his sister wore until she turned it from mourning into bravery and learned how to love again despite the fear. Purple danced from his fingertips and stained his cheeks as sobs clung to his bedroom walls. Purple is what he has to protect himself from— his past from leaking out and his sensitive heart from twisting into colorless knots, his anger from striking, his sister meant to be held instead of frightened. Purple was sorrow, it was aching and cruel and merciless.

Purple was not meant to be happy, wasn’t meant to them.

So why was it?

Because Marinette is so many shades of pink that it leaves Luka breathless, but she’s always a bubble-gum glow when she sees him.

That’s when she’s herself.

That’s when she’s happy.

And it’s because of him.

Him who’s a blue— dark enough some days to drown his soul, dark and deep and enough of an ocean blue that he could sweep the world away in a tsunami and not even care. A cyan blue when calm, when he teases his sister, when he meditates to his guitar. But he’s a soft azure when he’s with her; indigo when she cries and a blazing navy when she’s hurt. Her laughter makes him go bright blue and her smile melts him into the color of the sky at midday.

She’s pink.

He’s blue.

And purple is still not a happy color, still not something she’d choose.

She wants yellow instead.

She’d be happy with yellow. With someone other than him.

And he wants her to be happy— so there’s no room for purple.

Besides, he thinks, purple just ruins things and she deserves to be safe.

“Lovely?” Marinette pokes his cheek, making the musician blink up at her at the sound of what the tiny bluenette has chosen to call him for months now. That and ‘sweetie’. “Are you okay?”

“Your freckles are darker than usual.” Is all Luka can say, eyes drifting over her slightly pink-tinged cheeks as the little freckles stand out.

Pink, pink, pink.

Her blush is pink.

When he glances down, he sees the frown on her lips— they’re pink too— and feels the uncertain skip in the best of her song. It makes him sigh.

“Don’t worry about me, Melody.” Luka gently reaches up and tugs a loose strand of hair behind her ear, not wanting it to block her beautiful electric eyes. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?” Marinette tilts her head and it takes almost all his self restraint not to awe out loud at how adorable she is. “I’m here to talk if you’re not.”

“I’m sure.” He chuckles, ruffling her hair even though his heart aches. Yellow. She likes yellow, not blue. “Want to hear a song I’ve been working on?”

“Of course.” His melody smiles softly— the same smile that makes his heart beg to never let it end— and motions for him to continue. “What’s it about?”

Luka smirks, “You’ll see.”

Marinette gives him a look that’s somewhere between ‘Why don’t you just tell me?’ and ‘What are you waiting for?’ and it makes his smirk broaden into a grin, lips tugging up at the sides as her nose crinkles.

Cute.

They’re sitting across from each other on Marinette’s balcony and the sunrise is orange and red and pink— and it makes Luka feel something he’s too scared to feel alone but doesn’t ask or pry. He sits there patiently and he plays his guitar for the girl he fell in love with.

If she was happy, being friends would be easier.

If she was happy, he wouldn’t mind yellow.

If she was happy… would it be worth it?

Now they’re laughing and talking and teasing and it makes his heart melt in his chest because she isn’t happy with him how he wants to be happy with her, but she’s still happy.

And it’s enough.

It’s more than enough and it’s worth it a thousand times over.

Her eyes twinkle in Paris’ lights and the sun makes her hair glimmer as it flows around her shoulders and— god she’s so beautiful and she doesn’t even realize how much she affects him and god, she’s smiling and her freckles are drowning under her blush and he’s drowning under his own love and he can’t handle it but god, he would do anything for her.

And it isn’t fair and it never will be fair because he’s blue and she’s pink but she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t want anything but to become the soft color of a peach with yellow.

Peach would look good on her— a gentle color with no chance of going dark. Yellow is too bright, too easy to love for that. Too nice of a color to make peach anything less than what she would hope.

And purple is still a dangerous color.

Purple is still dark, it’s still unstable. He knows why she doesn’t want purple but he wants it. He wants the mulberry shape of bruise-kissed lips and magenta blushes and mauve-colored winks and he wants to love her so much that it’s painful.

Purple is still them.

But it’s him now, too.

She crawled so far into his heart that all his walls crashed down into a dusty cloud of pink, and that pink mixed until she was in his lungs and he was breathing her in with every breath. He doesn’t need oxygen— he just needs her.

He loves her.

He’ll always love her.

But now it’s midday and the sky is the color of his eyes whenever he looks at her and there’s nothing dark or hard about it. It’s a soft color and a soft feeling and it expands even when the sun— even when the thoughts of yellow— try to break through.

It’s midday and they’re still laughing.

They laugh until their sides hurt and Luka doesn’t even remember why but when he looks at the way Marinette’s head tilts back with a loud giggle he finds that he doesn’t care.

Midday doesn’t last forever, though, and neither does the feeling of being drunk on happiness. Purple comes crashing in with sharp edges and a wicked laugh and draped in gold garments and purple is the color of the mask they’re wearing and purple is the color of fear that seizes Luka’s heart when it tries to hurt her.

When it threatens to make them relive their most painful memories or when their lives changed forever.

When he thinks about his father; the purple yells bouncing around their home, the bruises, the injuries he had to hide, the hits meant for his sister but left orchid-colored marks against him instead.

When he knows that she’s been hurt a lot too.

When he knows that both of them have things they never want to experience again.

Akumas were common and they were always thrumming with energy and he knew that they weren’t in control of themselves— that Hawkmoth had his manipulative claws digging into their minds— but it doesn’t help the rage that contorts and twists in his veins because how dare they try to hurt the girl he loves.

So he fights for her and she fights for him but they’re just two teenagers and they weren’t supposed to be a team and what were they supposed to do when the world feels like it's falling down onto them?

Luka felt like he was drowning but that wasn’t what scared him.

What scared him was looking to his right and seeing that Marinette was drowning too. That his eyes were growing heavy and he couldn’t breathe and he felt so weak but he reached out for her anyway— he reached out and everything went numb when their fingertips touched.

It felt like he was flying, flashes and colors and smells jerking him from one place to the next and it could’ve been years since his feet had touched the ground by the time that Luka crashed into the cold, plasticy feeling of whatever was under him.

Coughing, he sat up in a blind frenzy, blinking repeatedly as his senses tried to grapple his surroundings— skin feeling too tight to fit his panic.

“Melody?” Luka pushed himself to stand, knees shaking but not as bad as his voice. “Melody, where are you? Marinette!” Seeing her groaning behind him, the musician only sees a wave of pink before he’s already crouched next to her and holding her face in his hands.

She’s cold and her face is scrunched up like she tasted a lemon.

But she’s breathing, she’s alive— and it makes relief puncture his lungs and for a heavy sigh to escape him.

“L-Luka?” Marinette’s eyes slowly blinked open, mouth parting in some form of a daze— as if she’s looking right through him. “What… the akuma! No, oh no. This is, this is bad! I can’t be trapped here, I have to get back! And, god, Luka. I need to get back to Luka.”

“Melody, it’s okay, I’m right here.” Luka shuffled closer, both of them sitting side to side now as his hands calmingly ran up and down her arms, confused as to why she wasn’t looking at him. “We’ll be okay. Ladybug and Chat Noir will fix everything and—”

“No, no.” She clutched at her head with a groan, not acknowledging his words, blue eyes filling with terror and guilt. “If I’m here then, then— Tikki?” Watching her suddenly whirl around and stand up gave Luka whiplash and he wondered how she didn’t even stagger after being teleported to… wherever they were. “Tikki, I really need you!”

Tikki? Who’s that? Luka blinked a couple times, hands itching by his sides to just drag her back to him and never let go.

He’s blue and she’s pink but purple would be okay if she’s safe. Purple would be okay, for just a moment, if he could hold her. If he could make sure nothing else— no one else— could hurt her.

“Okay, okay, this is fine,” Marinette said to herself and Luka watched, unsure of what to do if she couldn’t see, hear, or feel him— seemingly anyway since she gave so indication that she knew he was there. “Chat Noir will fight that Akuma or find a way to break me out of here and everything will be fine. He knows who I am. He’ll figure it out.”

Chat Noir? Why would Chat Noir focus on getting her out then just winning the fight and cleansing the Akuma with Ladybug?

Luka was a Couffaine, chaos ran in his blood and he was used to life throwing a curveball and painful things his way, used to going with the flow and preparing for the worst, used to figuring things out on his own.

But honestly? This was giving him a headache.

“Melody?” He stands up and tries again, only for a wave of purple to explode around them as the scenery flashes around them, their bodies now side by side as they’re forced to move through wherever this Akuma’s power is taking them.

They’re off to the side, his Melody not too far away and she clutches at her hands to her chest breathing heavy as she stares at what looks like a playground around them, and he can smell the wood chips underneath them and the wet soil, puddles here and there as drops of water drip from the trees.

He blinks again and recognizes it.

The playground from the first school he went to, when he was five or six and still so scared of everything and anyone that he avoided people at all costs— blending in with the background and making no friends.

But this wasn’t from his memory.

It was from hers.

“Mari,” Luka looks down and wishes he could hold her, but she still can’t see him or feel him. They’re trapped together but they’re still so far apart. He sighs, looking around more and frowning. “Why would one of your worst memories be on a playground?”

As expected, she didn’t answer.

Then Luka sees her— a short little five-year-old with a shy smile and a pink overalls that are too big for her and a white shirt underneath, dark hair into pigtails and blue eyes nervously taking in all the other kids playing.

That’s Marinette.

Compared to him at that age, she definitely looked more put together. Still kind, still adorable in that innocent kid way where they don’t know how cruel the world is. In a way that he never got to experience— childhood ripped away by his father’s hands much too soon.

Kids he recognized as her now classmates and his sister’s girlfriend, but not his sister— she went to school a year later than everyone else— were playing what looked to be kickball.

The Akuma also said life-changing memories, so many things wouldn’t be bad? Maybe this is just when she made friends for the first time?

Luka hoped that’s all it was.

But then, as the rest of her memory played out, he realized that was a too-soon assumption.

She’s five when she learns what it’s like to be bullied for the first time and goes home with a running nose and bruises from when Chloe— god, he hated that girl— pushed her into the concrete. She’s called Ugly Mari for the rest of the year and it breaks his heart as he realizes that this is what started her insecurity.

She’s seven when she’s told she’ll never be loved and Luka watches as she cries in her father’s arms as she asks what’s so wrong with her that no one wants to be friends. Mr. Dupain tells her that some people just don’t have the same gentleness and warmth inside of them that she has.

She’s nine when she makes friends with her classmates and everyone learns to love the kind-hearted girl but ten when her best friend at the time says she’s too much to handle. This is the year she learned to fold any pride she had into herself and hide it away next to her confidence.

Luka wants to scream at the world when he sees how scared she is of pushing people away because she’s a little too smart, a little too clumsy, a little too late, a little too much.

She’s twelve when Chloe beats her up in the locker room and she goes home telling her parents that she fell down some stairs. She’s twelve when she makes her first successful shirt and it gets ripped up. She’s twelve and she cries herxcself to sleep because she doesn’t feel like anyone will ever love her.

She’s seventeen now and she’s watching herself at twelve years old and Luka sees the tears in her eyes and he’s on the floor crying just watching her feel worthless and he can’t even hold her and tell her how she’s the most amazing person he met.

She’s thirteen when she becomes Ladybug— he learns that Tikki is her Kwami— and Luka’s breath gets taken away at how brave she is but then is given back as his heart breaks all over again when he sees that she’s so riddled with insecurities that she doesn’t think she will be good enough to protect Paris.

He watches her make a mistake and she is so terrified that she gives away the earrings to Alya. He watches as she takes them back and helps her best friend. He watches as a cop berates her for getting them into this mess. He watches as she saves the same girl who made her feel unlovable for the last thirteen years of her life. He watches as she’s confident for one of the first times and smirks as she takes down Stoneheart and all the butterflies.

He watches and he’s back to being the love-sick man he is as he sees his Melody, the one trapped here with him, watch herself without blinking.

Then she smiles and he feels so grateful that his heart aches because she’s letting herself be proud and she might not be healed from the trauma of being bullied so harshly for years but she’s strong and she’s getting through it.

It’s the next day she falls in love for the first time underneath a black umbrella and Luka sees the shy smile on her face and he scowls because pink and yellow don’t mix— even if it would make her happy. Pink and yellow is peach but she’s nervous and so scared of messing up and yellow can’t see it and he doesn’t even deserve her.

There’s a couple battles and other heroes and small conversations here and there but their brief flashes and distant sounds but Marinette smiles anyways and waves when she sees the people she loves.

Luka sees it all and he doesn’t know how he could ever stop loving this girl who’s compassionate and sweet and protects everyone without complaining and no one can even properly appreciate her for it because no one knows.

But he knows.

And he loves her all the more.

She’s fourteen when she meets him and he watches himself play for her and he smiles as his Melody looks at the scene with a familiar tenderness in her eyes that leaves him breathless. He watches over the course of the year as they grow closer through her eyes, as he gets akumatized and as he is granted with the Snake Miraculous for the first time.

Luka sees as, even though he wasn’t her first love, she fell in love with him.

She’s sixteen when she dies for the first time in a battle with an Akuma and Chat Noir is forced to take her earrings. She’s sixteen when she comes back from death with a smile and learns that her partner is Adrien Agreste. She’s sixteen when she found out her old crush is madly in love with her and she still chooses him— she chooses Luka— anyway.

She’s seventeen and she’s talking to Alya on the phone about how to tell him she wants him and it was this morning she did that, right before he came over, and then they’re sitting with bright smiles and he notices how she looks at him when he’s looking at something else— only briefly, as even the devil knows he’d be damned if he could just keep his eyes off of her for more than a couple minutes— and Luka is blown away with the knowledge.

She loves him.

Marinette loves him.

The feeling is so purple that it makes him ache with the need to kiss her. It’s the smell of her lavender shampoo and the color of an Iris and it’s warmth and gentle and a burning amethyst and it makes him cry all over again.

He’s blue and she’s pink and yellow isn’t even an option anymore but that doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want yellow. She doesn’t want to be peach. She just wants him— she wants him and he wants her even more.

Purple was still dangerous.

But it was so, so beautiful.

He’d never give it up because of what purple was.

Purple was her and him, it was them.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #akuma attack #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #mlb fanfic #fanfic #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #marinette x luka #blue and pink #dangerous #love #fluff #cute

119 notes · View notes

a-magical-artist · 4 years ago

Text

Top Ten Favorite Doppels

Turned in less than five minutes before Halloween ends, but whatever:

10. Abigail

Hagumu is really just a scared kid despite being a Neo Magius stooge, and Abigail is a very good representation of that; Hagumu closes her eyes whenever she comes out, to which, same as Abigail is a very intimidating doppel filled with teeth and spikes. Her form’s listed as a “reversible shape” and she gives the impression of a torn up, straw-filled doll with a toothy mouth and spines/shards all throughout her inner lining. It’s also a good twist that since Hagumu’s magic makes her unusually strong against witches, Abigail is the opposite, being effective against magical girls.

I really love the exterior on this one, it looks very pretty and ornate, and it does a nice job contrasting with the messy, shard-filled fiber underneath.

9. Gothel

I’m very close to unlocking Gothel (all I need are materials for Magia leveling), but I already love her design. She takes Yozuru’s wish and magnifies/projects it as many witches (or doppels) do, in her case, trying to find someone or something that can make Yozuru feel the emotions she wished away. She takes the form of a tower (name being a great Rapunzel reference) with exposed ribs she uses to drag in and crush whatever she sees, which is...fairly impressive as a doppel design without being too gory (a reason why Beatrice and Therisia aren’t here or in this slot).

8. Clothette

I...really, really don’t like Suzune Magica, and I don’t like Suzune. I do however, have a grudging respect for her Doppel design. Clothette’s based around a gadfly, comes out of Suzune’s eye, has bells for eyes, and is constantly on fire. It’s a great design, but points off for coming from a character I can’t stand.

7. Gibdaughter

So, fun fact about hummingbirds for anyone who doesn’t know; they’re beautiful little birds...that have the worst tempers. I love them for that, and I’m happy to see one used as a base for a doppel design. Gibdaughter, as per usual, externalizes Kanae’s wish to be left in peace by using her very love of music. Her main attacks all revolve around the vibrations she gives off, adjusting them to resonate with her targets until they shatter. Given both the animal and the character of Kanae, this was an all too appropriate fit. The doppel’s mechanical appearance is pretty and both a nice reference to hummer feathers (they give off a metallic sheen when light hits them), and to Kanae’s aloof exterior.

6. Sylvie

Given how sweet and caring Ikumi is, this one was a surprise. Sylvie’s a very invasive doppel-moreso than Hevelius even-in that she’s not only formed from Ikumi’s lower half, but also seems to thread her way through her entire body given Ikumi’s eyes turn into glowing, barbed anchors. Definitely lines up with her nature, but...jesus. She gives the impression she’s based around one of those cymbal monkey toys, which is already creepy enough, but Sylvie’s “head” is just Ikumi, and also the gigantic screw jutting out of her upper back. The accordion midsection does not help in any of this and makes Sylvie’s movements look off, even for a doppel. Good but horrifying design, though the glowing eye anchors are a little over the top for me.

5. Hund Balou

Hund Balou is one of the rare genuinely disturbing doppels; Hanna was already very close to being her by externalizing her curse on the world and those around her, so there’s not much for Hund to do except just. be destructive. Her form is creepy, her description’s creepy, everything about Hund is really screwed up. And Hanna, being spiteful, vindictive Hanna, loves her and thankfully, never got the opportunity to use her for some pretty obvious reasons. Hanna’s relationship with Hund is similar to Alina’s with Old Dorothy-both are in sync with their doppels and have the same goal, which is...horrifying given both characters. Hund is really cluttered and witch-like in appearance, being covered in leashes, chains, and buttons with a splattered green/purple/blue dress topping it all off. Her mixed media feel is pronounced, which is a good indication of how close Hanna is to her, and how messed up her implications really are.

4. Ein Roter Drache

This is the stupidest, and yet most awesome doppel I have ever seen; it’s a dragon that makes its entrance by riding on its hoard of treasure and smacks its targets with its tail. The tiny crown is a really funny touch for it and I will forever be sad that I can’t get Elisa outside of a support as of NA’s shutdown

Also love how it’s just Elisa’s bottom half to give the illusion she’s riding the doppel-that’s awesome and I love the creativity going into it

3. Oaji

*Insert the “What are you doing in my swamp” mere here*

Oaji takes the appearance of an entire swamp that lures people in, hinting at both the barrier of the witch and the witch herself possibly being similar to Zola, which is a cool concept. I love how simple she looks, and her coming out from behind Chiharu lines up with her misguided efforts to help her. She kind of gives off a similar vibe to Elsa Maria from the original series-even the branches bring the Sebastian familiars to mind. Also really love the lantern and the gray pool forming underneath Chiharu-the gold streaks just really top everything off here.

2. Marita

I love assassin bugs and so I love Marita. Instant number two for me

For real though, I didn’t expect these to be used as a doppel base, so I was very surprised when Sunao came out and her doppel had this as one. It looks appropriately creepy and very elegant, and I like the little necklaces hanging just below the head of the doppel. Marita also shares the needle/sewing aesthetic with Latria, and although there’s no blood, the giant one serving as a mouth is scary enough in implication. The crystal ball (that turns red during attacks) being the doppel’s abdomen’s also a nice touch.

Honorable Mentions:

Old Dorothy: Old Dorothy in-game is described as witch-like, and that’s because unless the viewer knows where her core body is, she just looks like an unrecognizable mass of puffballs and paper flowers dipped in orange paint. With witches, you can never really tell what it is you’re looking at, so Old Dorothy gives off that same impression. She didn’t officially make it because of her weird little core body, but I do love her gimmick.

Theresia: I do like Theresia, but I felt her design wouldn’t fit since I’m trying to avoid the more gory doppels. I do like how she’s literally just Sana’s ears, and how there’s two versions of her that have an equal chance of coming out (though this does present some complications when going competitive with Sana).

Poker Alice: Too much of what looks to be exposed muscle for me to feel comfortable putting her in, but I adore the skulls exploding outward behind the chair and the hands covering Yukika’s eyes. Speaking of, the eyes on this thing are both cool and nicely scary in contrast to the simplicity of the rocking chair.

Gosirsa: Colorful and very beautiful, the wheels at the front make for a surreal touch, something that many doppels tend to lack due to being scaled down versions of the full witch. Didn’t make it because there’s too few slots and too many doppels to choose from, but definitely in my personal faves.

1. Campanella

Campanella’s just the right amount of dumb, elegant, and unsettling, hence her being here at the number one spot. Yachiyo’s training event also helped me warm up to her; while Yu Hong and Cyan were self-defeating and frustrated respectively, Camp was really, really mellow by contrast. She seemed willing to work with Yachiyo as long as she accepted and stopped rejecting her, which was, at the time, a very nice change from the usual (not that Camp doesn’t try to take over however-once Yachiyo implies she’s going to keep running from her, she goes on the attack). She takes the form of a ticket puncher holding a lantern, comes out of Yachiyo’s leg, and gives the overall impression of a scorpion, ridiculously oversized shoes and all. Her anime appearances are a nice representation of Yachiyo’s fears and it’s just really satisfying to find out that they have enough of a relationship to where she can use her in fights. Doppels when it comes down to it are a sort of agreement/truce between the magical girl and their witch self; not only does it allow them to come back, it allows them to make peace with their insecurities and fears without the danger of turning into a witch. Campanella, both in-game and the anime, represents that relationship to its fullest, so she’s at the #1 spot.

#magia record #halloween special I guess #doppels

75 notes · View notes

happytsukki · 5 years ago

Text

boyfriend material

k. bokuto

in which you inquire bokuto to act as your fake boyfriend for a weekend, but you’re the one acting like you don’t have real feelings for him.

a/n: so you’re telling me i have to accept the fact that bokuto isn’t real?? real heartbreak 😔 anyway i love the fake dating trope hehe i hope u enjoy!! idk how i feel about the end ummm

“be my boyfriend, taro.”

“woah woah woah, slow down y/n. technically you haven’t even confessed to me yet,” stuttered bokuto, his eyes darting around the nearly empty library just to avoid your gaze. heat rose to his cheeks and the tip of his ears, showcasing a pink hue that he was embarrassed to let you see.

sure, your friends loved to giggle about how good you and bokuto looked together or how you two were basically soulmates because you shared the same music taste and movie favorites. and you two would shyly refuse, believing that you were simply friends. right?

but nothing would’ve prepared bokuto to hear something so bold come out of your mouth. wasn’t he supposed to be the bold one? but why was he suddenly the one being flustered and feeling knots grow in his stomach?

you shook your head profusely. “shut up taro. not like that, what i mean is that my parents think i have a boyfriend to bring home this break—which obviously i do not.” you placed your hands together and pouted, “so please be my fake boyfriend.”

the boy scratched the back of his head in confusion. “wait, why exactly do your parents think you, of all people, have a boyfriend? and besides, why can’t you just say you don’t?” questioned bokuto.

he was right. you were never really adept at dating, and who knows why your parents fell for your silly lie but you knew one thing for sure: if you didn’t go to the family reunion with a boyfriend, you would be disowned by your entire family.

“well it started with a small lie— for a good reason of course! see, we have a family reunion around this time, but my snotty cousin loves to show off every year and i was fed up.” you huffed and rolled your eyes just at the thought of her, “so i told my parents that my boyfriend and i had a date planned for that day so i couldn’t go, but no. they refused to let me miss it and insisted on introducing him. now i have to see my annoying cousin again and bring my nonexistent boyfriend.” you sighed heavily and threw your arms up in frustration.

“okay. i’ll do it. but first, you have to tell me why you picked me.” he crossed his arms and stuck his nose up, waiting for your response. ah, it was bokuto’s daily need for validation that you were expecting.

“you’re obviously the best candidate to not only make my parents proud of me but also to rub it in my cousin’s face. i mean who else can i bring that was one of the top 5 aces in the nation, now part of the msby black jackals and just as scrumptiously fine and hot as y–“ bokuto’s eyes widened at your last statement and his hand quickly went to cover your mouth. you almost doubled over in laughter, shy bokuto was a rare sight so this was quite enjoyable to watch.

he laughed nervously, “woaaah, okay i get it now. thank you y/n....or should i say girlfriend.” winked bokuto. though it came off as a joke he could feel his heart race so fast that he felt like he was high on cloud nine, a feeling foreign till now.

desperately seeking a breath of fresh air from the situation, bokuto scrambled to gather his books and bid a short farewell but not before giving you an awkward pat on the head and a high-five. yes, a high five.

“bye y/n!” smiled bokuto, dashing out of the library like it was a 100 meter race.

but bokuto failed to realize that his exuberant heart seemed to beat in rhythm with someone else’s, yours.

your two years of friendship seemed to suffice for a decent cover story, or so you thought. but once you stepped foot onto the front lawn of your home, the growing tighteness in your chest would say otherwise.

maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

your mind was spiraling out of control causing you to be paralyzed with a million thoughts on your mind.

“earth to y/n— are you okay?” asked bokuto. he waved his hand in front of your face, snapping you out of your frozen state.

“i-i think i’m stupid for thinking i could pull of this crazy plan. maybe you should just go home kou,” you admited. your eyes wouldn’t dare look into his eyes, instead redirecting your attention on the hem of your sweater.

bokuto wasn’t a quitter and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you go into there alone. he grabbed your hand and gave it a small squeeze, his other hand raising your chin up.

“i’m not letting you admit defeat, y/n. besides, i’m wearing the perfect sweater.” beamed bokuto.

“sweater?” you puzzled. “check it out, it’s made out of boyfriend material.” he joked, earning a simple smile out of you and washing away your doubts.

you couldn’t help but marvel at the look of pure determination on his face. you’ve seen it plenty of times, mostly during tough volleyball games. the way you could look into his eyes and see a fire set ablaze made you feel strong and fearless. bokuto just had that effect on people. without a second thought, one hand interwined with bokuto’s, you pushed open the door.

unfortunately, your rush of adrenaline was cut short by the disgusting sight of your cousin, chiyo. her eyes immediately landed on you but soon shifted over to the mysterious attractive man to your left.

chiyo was vile, cruel, judgemental, rude, bossy, selfish and the list goes on. since you were children, she made it her life goal to be better than you in everything. you were usually able to tolerate her childish attempts to make you feel inferior but ever since she got an internship with alexander wang while you were still stuck in college, she just couldn’t stop tearing apart your life.

“oh my, look who it is. hello y/n, is this your friend?” questioned chiyo, her eyes running bokuto up and down like tiger finding her next prey.

oblivious to her true intentions, he offered her his usual friendly smile. you rolled your eyes, anger stirring deep within you.

you wrap your arms around bokuto’s waist and lovingly rest your head onto his chest.

still in his embrace, you turn your head to face chiyo again “no, this is my boyfriend bokuto. but i don’t think i see your boyfriend, is he around?” you retorted. chiyo gasped in response, and after failing to find a snarky rebuttal she stomped away in annoyance.

while cheers of victory rang through your head, you peered up at bokuto. “did you see that taro? we really showed her” you laughed.

but bokuto didn’t laugh. he nodded trying to keep his calm but inside he was screaming hysterically. he felt like absolute jelly in your touch, wondering why he wanted to play this role forever.

“come on, you should meet my little cousins!” you say as you drag him to the backyard.

needless to say, the kids absolutely adored him.

“hey hey hey!” boomed bokuto, his voice resonating through the yard and catching the attention of the horde of children.

your five year old cousin yuta gaped at his towering height “woahhh mister— you’re a giant!” another boy began climbing his body, tugging at his white-grey streaked hair, causing bokuto to yelp in pain.

it was a sight that made your heart swell with happiness. the way bokuto sat on the grass, surrounded by children ooo-ing and ah-ing at his stories while he showcased a huge grin made you appreciate the little things. and of course you just had to snapping a quick picture of bokuto before he could even notice. after the initial excitement died down, he returned to your side with the same grin painted on his face.

“excuse me, y/n-chan. is that your husband?” a tiny voice whispered, tugging at the hem of your cyan-colored sweater. the girl, small and doe-eyed, pointed a shy finger towards the boy.

oh my god. you were mortified, completely frozen in your spot. you couldn’t believe she just said that, why would she say that? suddenly you hated children. but at that moment you just desperately wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

before you could awkwardly announce that he was just your boyfriend, bokuto already had the situation under control. he placed one knee on the grass, now eye-level to the girl. with a hearty laugh he said “not yet...but would you like to be a flower girl at our wedding?” the girl’s eyes lit up with pure bliss, nodding her head aggressively to his suggestion.

for a split second, you thought bokuto deserved an oscar for his exceptional acting skills.

because at that moment, you were beginning to fall for him, wondering if one day you would be lucky enough to walk down the aisle to meet a teary-eyed bokuto at the altar.

“oh y/n i’m so happy you’re dating bokuto!!” your mother exclaimed, clapping her hands together at the dinner table.

you’ve been dreading dinner time the entire day, and of course your mother just had to prove your point exactly.

“y/n has always been gushing over him, i’m so glad she finally made a move— how did you two finally get together?” your mother questioned, placing her chopsticks down, leaning forward to give you her full attention. the rest of your family turned their heads towards you and eagerly waited for your response as they continued eating.

“oh, i-um” you stuttered. why didn’t you prepare more? you thought, mentally facepalming your poor decisions.

luckily, bokuto interrupted, “actually i confessed first, at my last game..” he offered you a small smile, and placed his hand over yours. it was a gesture that made you let go off the breath you were holding, it meant “i got this.”

“i thought she was perfect from the first time we met..”

you laughed. what a lie. the first time you met bokuto was far from elegant. you still remember it vividly, you standing on the sidelines chatting with kageyama when suddenly bokuto’s hard serve accidentally hits you in the back of the head. lets just say you weren’t exactly pleased to meet the perpetrator.

“and i thought she hated at first. we had mutual friends so we hung out more, and the more i got to spend time with her, the more i fell for her. i loved how she greeted me with a congratulatory hug after every match or how she would constantly sends me random songs that reminded her of me. i’m glad she’s mine..” professed bokuto.

he had the entire room swooning over every word, the story stringing together like it came straight out of your typical romantic movie.

oh how you wished bokuto wasn’t such a good actor. you wished he was the terrible fake boyfriend that all the kids loathed. you wished he was the terrible fake boyfriend that your mom didn’t look at with complete and utter adoration. you wished he was the terrible boyfriend that didn’t make your entire world stop on its axis with one look, one touch or one word.

falling in love with bokuto kotarou was easy; it’s admitting to yourself that it happened that was hard.

“mind if i join you?” asked bokuto.

after a long and tiring dinner, you decided to lay down outside, gazing at the blanket of stars that lit up the pitch black sky.

you longed for peace and quiet, away from your crazy family and your fake boyfriend. but you couldn’t escape from the feelings you harbored for bokuto.

“no.” you said, not daring to even glance at him. he laid down beside you, so close that his warmth radiated and his hand lightly grazed yours. silence filled the air, begging someone to say something, anything.

“thank you taro.�� you whispered. “you’re suprisingly a good actor.”

“you ever heard of method acting?” he asked. you shake your head in confusion and he continues,”its when an actor completely embraces his role by developing sincere and genuine emotions..”

he sat up abruptly, diverting his gaze from the stars to your face, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. his fingers lace through yours, your hearts thumping joyfully in a familiar unison.

“what i mean is— acting isn’t hard when it’s real. none of my feelings were fake” expressed bokuto. “i don’t wanna be the fake boyfriend anymore.”

and for once, neither you or bokuto question your feelings, everything became so clear.

“because, frankly, i think our hands fit perfectly and i wouldn’t mind holding yours forever.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu writing #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #bokuto kotarou #bokuto #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto scenario #bokuto fic #anime scenarios #anime imagines #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu fanfiction #bokuto fluff

303 notes · View notes

atla-hcs-and-bakoda · 4 years ago

Text

Bato’s Backstory

ok so this is gonna be long, buckle up. This is my personal interpretation of bato’s backstory, it likely makes no canonical or reasonable sense, but canon does not exist and i make the rules. this is purely self-indulgent crack-treated-seriously. This is what all the other hcs, unless stated otherwise, will be set in.

Note about Bato: in my interpretation of him, he has teal/cyan eyes and darker brown hair than in the show, his skin tone has not changed.

(unfortunately this is not a zukka au, just a bakoda one. bato’s backstory is kind of an au in my mind, so when i do ship zukka, its not in this au)

(the bold letters at the beginning of the paragraphs are for accessibility)

‘Present’ (only a few months after zuko’s coronation) ages: Hakoda & Bato - 41 Kya - 42 Iroh - 65 Ozai - 47

under the cut because oh boy this is long, sorry asdfghfd

So, our story begins in the fire nation, about 59 AG, Iroh is the 25 year old crown prince, and recently had a child with his wife, Minami, on the coldest day of winter. They named him Shui, and they, quite frankly, spoilt him with their love. Minami stayed in the castle while Iroh was at war, and always sang to Shui while putting his hair up or putting him to bed.

One day, when Shui was 9, Azulon decided to take his family to Ember Islands on vacation, like the royal family has been doing for generations. However, there was a bad storm, and the ship got thrown near the south. Little Shui followed Iroh onto the deck, and fell overboard when a big wave hit the other side of the boat, rocking it and making him fall.

The royal family and crew tried to save him, but the waves dragged him under, and once the storm cleared, he was presumed dead. Iroh and Minami mourned the loss of their first son, who died so young that he hardly got to live life at all. Ozai mourned to a minor extent, as he was 15 at the time and wasn’t as bad as he is in the present, but not for as long as Shui’s parents, or grandfather, did.

Meanwhile, in the southern water tribe, little 9 year old Hakoda was wandering down at the seaside with his father when he came across a young boy unconscious in the snow, the cold water nearly freezing him to death. His father hurried him back to the tribe with the young boy’s body. For days, Hakoda sat beside the bed, rarely moving from the spot, keeping watch on the mystery boy. And eventually, he woke up.

Hakoda introduced himself once the boy was fully awake, but when asked his name, the boy said “i...i don’t remember...” So, instead, Hakoda decided to pick a name for him; Bato. The boy agreed to the name, and after a week, got adopted by one of the tribesmen, a close friend of Hakoda’s father. After that, the two children were an unstoppable duo, they did many successful pranks on everyone, including Hakoda’s mother, Kanna.

However, every once in a while, Bato would blurt out something without thinking, and when questioned, wouldn’t be able to remember it at all. For instance, Bato and Hakoda were once watching the stars late at night, when Bato pointed at a constellation and called it Druk. Hakoda laughed, but Bato insisted that was its name. Hakoda asked where Bato learned that, since thats not what their tribe calls it, and Bato had no recollection of learning it.

(This continued well into teenagehood, when Bato realised at the ripe old age of 14 that he was, in fact, in love with his best friend. He didn’t come out for a long time, in fear of his tribe’s reaction. Deep down he knew they’d accept him with open arms, but his anxiety said otherwise.)

At 12, there was a fire nation raid while Bato was at the seaside, and he recognised both the ship and flag instantly despite not being told prior about the Southern Raiders. He ran to tell the chief, and thanks to his quick reaction, saved the tribe to a degree. Many waterbenders still died, however.

At 15, Bato and Hakoda went ice-dodging with their respective fathers- and eachother. Hakoda recieved the mark of the wise, and Bato recieved the mark of the brave.

One night at 15, they were cuddling in Hakoda’s bed (because thats what best friends do, of course. its cold, no other reason, totally not) when Hakoda noticed Bato’s eye color; Teal. not the regular water tribe blue, not a dark blue, or even a light blue, but pure Teal. Although hakoda would still argue to this day that bato’s eyes are cyan. When questioned about his eye color, Bato shrugged and brushed it off as an uncommon trait. But Hakoda realised nobody else in the tribe had cyan eyes, just blue.

Then, at 16, the boys got into a bad avalanche that resulted in Hakoda getting knocked out. Bato woke up hours later, and pulled his best friend out of the snow. He realised Hakoda wasnt breathing, and started to cry, taking his gloves off to cling to Hakoda and try feel the warmth of his pulse, to no avail. He closed his eyes and cried, when his hands lit on fire. When he realised what he just did, he put the flame out and made a plan, carrying Hakoda to the dog sled quite a bit from the avalanche, and set them on course for the tribe while he carefully lit his hands back on fire after a few attempts, and kept Hakoda warm.

Just before they got to the tribe, Hakoda started breathing again, shallowly, and his father quickly took both of them to the healer when they arrived back. This time, it was Bato who sat beside the bed and waited for Hakoda to wake up, refusing to eat much until his friend woke up.

He never told anyone about his bending.

A few months later, Hakoda met and started dating Kya, and Bato’s heart broke. he was happy for hakoda, he really was, but deep down it still hurt him to see him with someone else.

At 20, Hakoda’s father went off to war. At 22, Hakoda became Chief, and Bato became the second-in-command.

At 23, Hakoda proposed to Kya after like 20 failed attempts at carving a betrothal necklace. Bato’s heart broke a tiny bit more, but he ignored it to be happy for his friend. Bato had to sleep alone for the first time since he joined the southern water tribe, he didn’t sleep much when alone.

2 years later, at 25, Sokka was born, and Bato babysat him a lot when Hakoda and Kya were busy. Bato admittedly vented to baby sokka quite a bit, and showed him very minor firebending tricks he practiced during sleepless nights, which was most nights.

At 26, Katara was born, and Bato now babysat two little children, both of which he adored with all his heart. He himself is infertile, so Katara and Sokka were the closest thing he had to his own children.

Things went mostly peacefully for years, until 34, when Kya got killed. After the raid, Hakoda wouldnt eat for days at a time, completely depressed and exhausted. Bato would offer him small plates of food and sit with him, letting him vent or cry or whatever Hakoda needed to do to get the stress and pain out. He also looked after Sokka and Katara while Hakoda couldn’t, and usually slept next to Hakoda’s bed, watching over the chief, along with his kids, as both children were terrified to sleep by themselves, Hakoda was scared of losing them, and Bato couldn’t bare the thought of not keeping them safe.

After years of recovering, Hakoda eventually had to head out to war with the men of the tribe, Bato included. Bato’s heart broke watching Sokka beg to come with them, but he knew it was for the best.

3 months after leaving, Bato came out to Hakoda in the Chieftan’s private room in the boat, and Hakoda accepted him with open arms, and promised to not tell anyone until Bato was ready. Bato fell a lot more in love.

At 5 months, he started very carefully dropping hints to Hakoda that he likes him, slightly-too-friendly-to-be-platonic compliments, cuddling him in hakoda’s room “because its cold” (they were nowhere near cold climates), and other vaugely homoerotic stuff like that. All of it went over Hakoda’s head.

(At 6 months he straight up told Hakoda at night on the deck “Your my stars, Hakoda. Whenever i’m lost, you always bring me home.”, and Hakoda responded “Thanks Bato, I’m happy your my friend too.”, Bato stayed awake all night in utter disbelief. He still teases Hakoda about it.)

1 year after leaving, Bato realised he might not be as much of a guy as he thought he was. He silently decided to put that train of thoughts on hold until the war was over. (In his heart he knew the war would never be over until the fire nation won. especially with sozin’s comet only a year away and- he doesnt remember what sozin’s comet is.)

When his arm got burned, he burned the soldier right back with his good arm out of sight of everyone else, and managed to shove them overboard before the pain hit him. He’s always had a high pain tolerance. After the fight ended, Hakoda carried Bato to the abbey, and they had a tearful goodbye, where Bato quietly confessed his love as Hakoda walked out the room. Hakoda thought about it until he saw Bato again.

When they reunited, Hakoda confessed his love back to Bato, and they kissed right in the open, it took a lot of self control for the other tribesmen to not cheer, they had known for literally forever, the only person in the tribe who didnt know bato was in love with hakoda was hakoda.

Somehow, it took until the war was over for Sokka and Katara to find out they had a step-dad. They already considered Bato to be their second dad, so not much exactly changed.

The day of Zuko’s coronation, Bato got talking with Iroh, and when the topic came to children, Iroh explained how both his sons were dead, one dying at 9 from a storm, and the other dying at 20 from war. When Iroh says his youngest (eldest?) son’s name, Shui, Bato remembers the storm, and Iroh notices Bato’s rare cyan eyes.

They have a nice reunion, although Bato has to sit down for a while to process all this and figure out his family tree. He decides not to tell Hakoda yet, but he does spend a while walking through the palace with Iroh and remembering parts of his early childhood. He cant bring himself to go into the room of firelord portraits.

A month after zuko’s coronation, he sits Hakoda down and explains that he’s a bender, and he’s apparently fire nation royalty. Hakoda gets temporarily mad, but eventually calms down and hugs Bato when his friend told him that his firebending saved both himself and hakoda, and that he would never be like his forefathers or uncle. Hakoda takes a while to fully accept it, but eventually warms up (heh) to the concept, and continues to use Bato as a personal space heater.

Two months after zuko’s coronation, he finally decides to tackle the “i’m not as much as a guy as i thought” issue, and he decides to go to Iroh and Toph for advice over tea, where Iroh suggests some wise stuff, but Toph simply explains what non-binary is, and suggests Bato may be Demiboy. (Although Bato prefers to call himself Demiguy, he doesnt like being called a boy) The Gender Crisis continues for about another week, and takes another half a month for him to come out to Hakoda. Bato was somewhat internally afraid he wouldnt be counted as one of the men, but Hakoda was overwhelmingly supportive, and admitted that he knew Bato wasn’t exactly cis, he just never knew the words to use.

Bato spends a while at the palace after the coronation to get his bearings on being half fire nation and a prince, he learns purple is a very good color on him.(Hakoda later jokes that it was foreshadowing for Bato realising he was enby, as he wasnt blue or red)

He bonds quite a bit with Zuko, Iroh, and Toph during his stay, but eventually goes back to the southern water tribe, the place he truly considers home. Although, he does go and visit the fire nation every once in a while. He even goes to Ember Islands and has a vacation day with both of his families.

After about two years, He finally makes a betrothal necklace for Hakoda, with the symbol of the water tribe on it and flames coming up from the waves, both of them totally cry happy tears when he proposes privately under the light of the aurora.

22 notes · View notes

just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years ago

Text

Forever Is A Long, Long Time

Pairings: Romantic Logicality

Verse: An Unlikely Suspect (Among Us AU)

TWs: Makeout mention, implied sexual activities, they’re really soft honestly..

Summary: Patton and Logan have been dating for a couple years now, but with only a month til their next voyage on the Skeld, and Logan working overtime to be the best Captain the crew could ask for, they rarely get some alone time. Luckily, Patton has the perfect idea...

(Recommended music: I Wouldn’t Mind by He Is We)

–

One Month before the Skeld Departs:

Patton excitedly made his way along the corridors of MIRA HQ to reach the cafeteria; he’d been stuck in the greenhouse all morning and early afternoon tending to the needs of the plants and their development cycles, but finally he could spend time with his boyfriend. Logan had been working so tirelessly, Patton couldn’t help but admire his passion and drive.

After all, the Skeld’s next captain needed to be someone the crew could feel safest with after all. Not that Patton ever believed his boyfriend was incapable, if anything, he believed Logan was already more than qualified for the job. The crew echoed the sentiment as well. But Logan seemed determined to keep working himself into the ground at this rate.

Patton had decided to fix that.

In his backpack rested lunch for the two of them, made ahead of time to spare them the long wait in line, the cyan-clad crewmate merrily continuing his trek to the cafeteria until he could see that familiar silhouette approaching the intersection of the threeway corridor.

“Logan!”, Patton beamed cheerfully, his radiance only matched as Logan turned toward the voice of his beloved. Once they were within touching distance, Logan was more than welcome for the embrace Patton offered.

“Greetings Patton,”, he chuckled, clearly already exhausted, “I apologise for not dropping by sooner-”

“Don’t you go over-working that noggin of yours any more, Logan! You’ve been working hard, so I wanted to surprise you with a homemade lunch!”, he opened his backpack and pulled out the lunchbox he’d prepared when Logan stopped him gently. His hand softly caressed Patton’s, “That sounds wonderful Patton, but I would sooner enjoy it… well… with just the two of us?”, he gestured to the rather full canteen with a quick nod of his head.

Pat noted the red tint cradling Logan’s cheeks, standing out against the collar of his dark blue uniform. Equally flustered by the thought of spending some one on one time with his boyfriend, Patton agreed, “Of-! Of course!! Where um, would you like to-”

“We may do so in my cabin-”, Logan offered, making sure to clarify, “Simply for convenience! I mean, we have work we must be on call for-”

Oh my god, how could someone so tall and handsome look so adorably flustered in an instant?

Patton giggled, “It’s fine, Logan, lead the way!”

The trip through the halls brimmed with mirth and starlight; Patton’s puns - while Logan maintained they were still awful - never ceased to wrench a fond sigh and a smile from his boyfriend. Once they were comfy in Logan’s cabin, Patton carefully opened up the lunch box to present an array of home cooked goodies; a tub of pasta each, and some mini berry tarts made specially with Crofters Jam. The latter made Logan’s eyes glisten in a way Patton hadn’t seen since their last trip to Earth.

“Starlight,”, Patton nearly melted at the love in Logan’s tone, “Where did you get this? We haven’t been authorised for any recent excursions back to Earth...”

Patton grinned cheekily, “I miiiight have specially asked Remy to get his buddies at the Earth station to beam over some~!”

Logan gasped, “Patton! You know full well-”

“I know, “all snacks and supplies must be given a month in advance to be checked over”, but I always follow protocol every other time I’m manning the loading bay! One little stowaway isn’t gonna get me in trouble. Besides, I wanted to make this really special before your debut as our new Captain!”

A tenseness found its way up Logan’s spine, going easily noticed by Patton. His smile softened into a gentle concern, “....You’re ready, Sunshine. I know it.” An easiness settled on Logan’s shoulders at the nickname, prompting Patton to continue, “It’s scary being in charge, I really, really don’t blame you for being anxious about it, but if anyone can keep us safe, it’s you, Logan.”

Gracefully, Patton softly picked up a blackcurrant tart, softly holding it for Logan to take a bite, earning a flush of rosy pink across the taller man’s cheeks.

“Heck, I trust you with my life, now and forever, Sunshine.”

Logan gave a small huff, but his smile was unwavering as he took a bite of the tart. The delicious homemade filling was nearly as sweet and filling as the love and support Patton offered so readily.

“Forever is a long, long time, Starlight. But I agree.”, he licked his lips, “Your baking never ceases to amaze me, it’s delicious.”

“Well then, I suppose I should try it-”

“Absolutely.”

Without missing a beat, Logan softly set the treat aside and brought Patton in for a kiss. Soft and slow though that changed with a gentle licking of Patton’s lower lip. All of a sudden, the cyan crewmate could taste the berry flavour lingering on Logan’s tongue, letting himself be pulled into Logan’s lap. Their kisses always ended up this way; deep, romantic, full of longing, a scream of “I love you” in every second that melted away.

Patton let out a small gasp as Logan broke their kiss to trail his lips down Patton’s neck, “Logaaaan… I thought you said-”

“Change of plan.”, he murmured against Patton’s neck, “Turns out I would rather die than be without you for too long.”

He joked, softly meeting Patton’s flushed gaze, “Besides, I am the Captain now, I believe I am allowed to bend the rules a little…”

Patton had no intention of arguing. It wasn’t how he’d planned their time together to go, but hey, the ring in his pocket would just have to wait a little while longer….

----

Part 1 of the An Unlikely Suspect pairing snippets!!

It’s so fluffy I almost forgot this canonically happens a month before the events of An Unlikely Suspect and OOF is that a punch to the gut. .... did I still add in a bunch of details that will make you all want to pry off my kneecaps with a spoon? Absolutely.

Here’s the original fic for those who haven’t read it yet! (do heed the tags! and there is a sequel in the works!)

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @fandomsofrandom @patton-cake @does-this-look-logicality-to-you @justalittlecorrupted @irritating-lady-knight @katlikethesword

#logicality #logan sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #among us au #an unlikely suspect au #i wouldn't mind #patton #logan #this is just really fluffy #mostly i mean theres a makeout and some implied but ssssh #forever is a long long time #my fics

44 notes · View notes

darks-ink · 4 years ago

Text

Rewind - Ectoberweek 2020

Acknowledging canon episodes? In my fanfic? It’s more likely than you think. Also I’m experimenting by adding the links onto this post so lemme know whether this shows up in the tag or not.

Rating: Gen Warnings: - Genre: Hurt/Comfort Words: 2,834 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Masters of All Time, Families of choice/Found family

[AO3] [FFN]

---

“What do you mean, you can’t?” Danny darted around Clockwork, refusing to let him turn away. “Clockwork!”

The ghost sighed, heavily and wearily, and looked down at Danny. “I cannot. It is that simple.”

“But that’s— that’s nonsense,” Danny insisted, gesturing wildly. “You’re the ghost of time! How can you not rewind this and fix it?!”

“I warned you, Daniel, that this would be a permanent change.” Clockwork blinked slowly, as if trying to convey some sort of emotion with his empty red eyes. “You did not heed my warning, or considered yourself above it. Now, you must live with the consequences.”

“But you’re—”

“Not all-powerful, no matter what you might think,” Clockwork cut in, narrowing his eyes. “You have altered the past, despite my warning not to. To travel back again would risk the stability of the timeline entirely. Would you rather see all of reality destroyed?”

Clockwork hummed before Danny could answer. “I would not, therefore I will not allow it to be so. The past has been set in stone, but the future is still malleable. Make it into something you can live with.”

“But…” Danny bit back his automatic response. There was no point. He’d tried fighting Clockwork before, and gotten his ass handed to him as a result. He sighed instead. “Can you at least take me back to Mom and Dad, then? The Portal looked like it blew up after I flew through it, and I don’t know where to find another.”

At that, Clockwork smiled. Or, Danny though it was a smile, at least. A small twitch of the ghost’s lips. “That, I can do.”

“Thanks, Clockwork.” Danny watched as the ghost swung his staff, a portal opening in its wake. “And… sorry, I guess.”

“Apology accepted.” Clockwork floated aside, waving a hand towards the portal. “Goodbye, Daniel.”

Danny nodded back, before flying through the portal. Welp. Time to face the music.

The portal spat him out in Amity Park, near his house. For a moment, Danny paused, considering the possibility that it brought him here because he consider Amity to be his home, no matter what. But then he realized that there was a car parked in front of the garage, one far too fancy for the neighborhood. His parents must’ve come this way, taking one of Vlad’s cars.

Thus satisfied, he flew down, phasing through the front door. No need to be secretive—both Jack and Maddie knew his secret already.

Still, he was surprised to find them both in the living room, apparently trying to clean up the place. Maddie saw him first, her body stilling. And how strange was it, that he found it comforting to see her here, in her cyan jumpsuit, with red goggles over her eyes? (That was weird, right? Danny felt like it should be weird.)

“Danny,” she said, quiet with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

At her words, Jack also looked up from where he was standing. He, too, looked almost exactly like his counterpart from Danny’s own timeline. Except with ecto-acne, of course.

“I, uh.” Danny shrugged, unsure. He felt thrown off by seeing his parents like this. It was almost right, but just slightly off. “Clockwork couldn’t undo it. Apparently the timeline is too unstable, or something. So I have to… stay in this world, I guess.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” She straightened up from her crouch, walking closer to him. “I— It probably won’t be easy, but you can stay with us for as long as you need to. Right, Jack?”

“Of course!” his dad immediately responded, nodding vigorously. “We’re… figuring stuff out, of course. But it’s thanks to you that we reunited in the first place. And you’re our kid!” He grinned, wide and loving, in that typical Jack Fenton way. “Even if the way you got here is a little weird, you’re still our family!”

“I…” He landed, noiselessly. Hesitated for a moment. Then closed the space between him and Maddie, wrapping his arms around her. “Thanks. Both of you. I’m sorry.”

The enormous warm arms of Jack Fenton came up around them. “Don’t be, kiddo. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he rumbled, underlined with an almost audible buzz of his core. It emitted a palpable feeling of family.

“No, but, I…” Danny sighed, crushing his head against Maddie’s shoulder. “It’s my fault. All of this is! I tried going back in time to change the past, to make it so Vlad wouldn’t get ecto-acne so he couldn’t infect my friends with it, but instead you became half-ghost.”

Danny drew a shaky breath, trying to fight past the emotions welling in his throat. They needed to understand. “It’s all my fault! Without my meddling, none of this would’ve happened!”

“Sounds to me,” his mom began, her thin fingers gently combing through his hair, “like you tried to help your friends, Danny.” She clicked her tongue. “Maybe not in the best way possible, but the intention was good.”

“I can’t imagine that Vlad would’ve dealt with being half-ghost much better than I,” Jack added, faint laughter in his voice. “Never mind the ecto-acne. But, of course! That’s how you recognized it!”

“Yeah, um.” Danny drew back from the hug a little. “I can… tell you guys, I guess? About my timeline. The differences, at least.”

“That’d be nice,” Maddie agreed, as Jack’s arms released them. She looked around, and Danny could read the reluctance in her body language, even despite the goggles. “We might have to clear some more stuff before we have the space to sit.”

“We could always sit on the floor?” Jack suggested, shrugging at her look. “Or Danny and I can float as ghosts.”

“Right.” Maddie shook her head, wandering over to the single chair not covered in debris and trash and reaching up to her hood. “If that works for you two, that might be the most convenient.” She paused, frowning at Danny, hood pulled off but still in hand. “But… if Vlad was the one who became half-ghost in your timeline, why are you half-ghost as well, Danny?”

“I, uh.” He shrugged, lifting his feet off of the ground to sit in mid-air. “Became half-ghost in an accident of my own.”

The frown he received from both parents very clearly asked for him to elaborate, so he did. “Okay, so. The point of divergence is the accident in college, obviously. In my timeline, Vlad got hit by the explosion, not Jack, so he becomes half-ghost and stuff. You two, Jack and Maddie, get together, especially since Vlad was cutting contact. You decide to become ghost researchers together and move to Amity Park.”

He paused to gesture to the house around them. “Specifically, you move here, to this specific house. You make it your place of business as well, called FentonWorks. Big neon sign on the front of the building, the basement downstairs becomes a lab, and at some point you two built the Ops Center at the top, which can also be used for inventing stuff. I’m… obviously not very informed of the details, since I was the second kid and you two talked very little about the past. Only,” here he made a face, “ghosts. Everything was always about ghosts.

“Anyway,” he continued, after a short pause to take a breath. “You two have Jazz first, and then me two years later. At some point after that, you start working on a new Portal, full scale, down in the lab. It takes forever to build, because you’re trying to be careful about it, I guess? But you finish it, eventually, when Jazz is sixteen and I fourteen.”

Maddie narrowed her eyes, darting them over his body. The question is clear as day: isn’t he basically fourteen?

“So,” Danny trumped on, ignoring the silent question, “After years of work, their Portal was finally finished! The ultimate proof that ghosts were real! And then it didn’t turn on.”

“It didn’t?” Jack gasped, clearly startled. Danny realized that, somehow, he’d missed the man shifting into his ghost form. “But—”

“It didn’t,” Danny interrupted, holding up a hand. “Because apparently, someone had built a secondary power switch inside the Portal, and they had forgotten to turn it on. So when they plugged in the power, the Portal didn’t turn on.”

There was clear calculation in the eyes of both of his parents, now. Danny continued his explanation before they could figure it out. Needed to tell his story to his parents, for once. He didn’t think he would ever get a chance to tell his actual parents, after all.

“Later that day, after Jazz convinced you two to take a break, my friends talked me into checking out the Portal. Just the three of us, since Tucker was interested in technology and Sam was interested in all things goth and occult.” He shrugged, almost fatalistically. “Sam suggested I take a closer look, and I did. Only, I didn’t realize that the power was still plugged in, so when I accidentally hit the power switch inside…”

“Oh!” Maddie gasped. “Oh, how terrible!”

“That must’ve hurt like hell,” Jack agreed, a painful grimace on his face. It looked strange, the genuine emotional expression with the blue skin, the pointed fangs poking out of his mouth. “Your parents must’ve felt awful, to know that they put their kid in such danger!”

“Well…” Danny made a face. “They kinda… didn’t know? They were both avid ghost hunters, both full of hate towards ghosts. I considered telling them, at first, but then they saw their first ghosts and…” Danny sighed. “I guess I was just scared that I’d be just a ghost to them. That they wouldn’t believe me.”

“That’s… That’s awful.” Jack floated over to nudge Danny. “Kiddo, if your dad was anything like me, I promise you, he would’ve cared.”

“I know.” Danny shook his head dismissively. “I know. That wasn’t why I was worried. I was afraid that they wouldn’t believe that I was me, that I was their son. That they would think that I had hurt or replaced their own kid.”

Maddie touched his shoulder, and Danny jerked, surprised. When had she stood up? Walked over? “Well… At least it is of no concern anymore, right? You’re here now, with us, and we believe you.”

It felt like something had crawled into his gut and died. “Yeah,” he said, with terribly faked enthusiasm. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s not much of a comfort, is it?” Maddie made a face. “I’m sorry. I guess I have very little parenting experience, compared to your actual mother.”

“Honestly?” He snorted. “It makes very little difference. Like I said, she and Dad spent most of the time in the lab, or otherwise occupied with ghost research.”

Maddie clicked her tongue, distaste clear on her face. “Well, isn’t that a waste. They have such a lovely son, and they don’t even enjoy his presence?”

“Well, y’know.” Danny shrugged, trying to ignore the pleased whirring of his core. “They try, now, but with all the ghosts we’re all kinda distracted. Them with trying to catch some for their research, and I with trying to protect the townspeople from the ghosts.”

Jack’s expression visibly brightened—as did the glow around his body. “You’re a ghost hunter! A ghost-fighting superhero! Just like I tried to be!”

“Uh.” Danny felt his brain skip over, then remembered. Somewhere in the blathering when he first arrived, Jack had mentioned that he’d tried using his powers for good. “Yeah, I guess so. But I had a little more success with it.” He grinned sheepishly.

“We should team up!” Jack exclaimed, wrapping an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “The two of us, and Maddie, if she wants to! We’d be a fantastic team!”

Danny laughed, a little uncertain. “Well, maybe. But we’ll need a Thermos to catch the ghosts, and a Portal to dump them back into the Ghost Zone, first. Those were kind of my major tools in managing. And Sam and Tucker, of course.”

“Oh?” Maddie asked, perking up. “Sam and Tucker? You mentioned them before, I think. Are those your friends?”

“Yeah, they… I guess they don’t know me, here.” He sighed, feeling himself drift down closer to the floor, away from his dad’s arm. “They… We were best friends, to the absolute end. Even after the stuff in the lab, the half-ghost stuff, the constant attacking ghosts and hunting them down, they stuck by my side.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” Jack landed as well, although unlike Danny, he landed on his feet. “But they’ll be around, right? It might not be the same, but they’re not gone.”

“Might as well be,” Danny huffed. He shook his head. “It won’t be the same. Without the years of shared experiences…”

Maddie and Jack shared a look—not quite as conversational as the ones his parents shared, but a good enough substitute—before apparently deciding to change the topic altogether.

“Why don’t we see if we can clear some rooms upstairs?” Maddie asked, clapping her hands together. “We’ll need at least two rooms clear enough for use, preferably three.”

“Three?” Danny echoed, frowning at them. “You’re not sharing?”

“We haven’t seen each other in years, Danny,” she pointed out, getting up from the chair. “We’re still reconnecting, never mind actually getting together.”

“Right,” he agreed, following her to the stairs. “But you are moving in?”

“Friends can share a house,” Jack pointed out, shifting back to his human form in a flash of white light, and reminding Danny to do the same. “And this way she won’t have to worry about getting kicked out of Vlad’s mansion while all the paperwork and stuff is happening.”

“And I never liked the mansion much,” Maddie admitted with a wry smile. “I liked the Vlad I knew, way back when, but over time it became clear that that wasn’t the real Vlad. I’d been thinking about divorcing him for longer, but… I don’t know. There was no one else I knew, nowhere I could go.”

“Not even to Aunt Alicia? I mean, she’s divorced as well, isn’t she?”

“I… didn’t realize she had married in the first place.” Maddie’s steps faltered for a moment before she continued up the stairs. “I guess I was afraid that she would judge me for marrying Vlad in the first place. I don’t know… It seems rather illogical, now, but I figured I could put up with Vlad well enough. And with his money I could afford my research, even if I had to do it behind his back.”

They stopped in the hallway upstairs, looking around. Danny resisted the urge to grimace. Somehow upstairs was even more of a mess than downstairs had been.

“Which room was yours, in your timeline?” Jack asked, sidling up to Danny.

“Uh.” He carefully stepped past the mess, stopping in front of his door. Or the door that belonged to the room that was his, in his own timeline. “This one. And Jazz had that one,” he pointed over to the room that his sister used. “The one next to mine was a guest room.”

Jack nodded. “Right, that makes sense! You can take that room if you want, Danny. Mads, you can take the other room if you want. The one next to here I used as a lab for a while, so cleaning…”

“Won’t be easy, got it.” She nodded as well. “I’ll take the other one. Let’s start with clearing out this one, shall we?”

“Let’s.” Danny pushed open the door, bracing himself mentally for the whiplash of seeing his room without it being his room.

As a result, he was almost toppled over by the cat that rushed past his legs.

“Jasmine!” Jack cheered, crouching down to pick up the fluffy white thing. “Is this where you’ve been hiding, honey?”

“Well,” Danny said, then stopped. He had no clue what to say. He didn’t even know what he thought of this.

“Well,” he tried again. “At least now I know who picked the name for Jazz, and who picked mine.”

Maddie snorted, gently pushing him into the room. “Personally, I think Danny is a great name, honey.”

“Thanks,” he retorted, eyes darting over the room. It was dark—the curtains were closed despite the time of day—but his night vision was pretty solid. “It’s short for Daniel.”

“And Jazz for Jasmine, then? That’s cute.” She ruffled his hair as she stepped past him, drawing open the curtains. “Hm. we certainly have our work cut out for us.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed, looking at the piles of he-didn’t-know-what lying around. There was a bed buried in one of the piles, which suggested it might’ve been a guest room at some point. Or used by someone else, before Jack moved in. “And we still need to clear yours, too.”

“Better get working then,” Maddie decided, shaking her head as she crouched down. “Things won’t get better on their own, after all.”

#danny phantom #ectoberweek2020 #ectoberweek 2020 #dp fanfic #phanfic #phic #danny fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #dark writes

42 notes · View notes

chaos-societies · 4 years ago

Text

Episode 7, The Spokes That Keep Turning

[x]

There was little light in the small entrance to a cave hundreds of miles from South Island. Chuck was crawling through the small passageway and already had stains of mud and dirt on both his clothes and his fur. He held upright a torch which limited his progress as he made his way deeper.

“You sure you didn’t want me to go first? I am a bit smaller.” A slightly high pitch voice came from behind him.

A smile arose on Chuck’s face. “Wasn’t it you who said whoever gets here first gets to go in first?”

“WaSn’T iT yOu WhO sAiD…shut up.” The girl answered back snarkily. Chuck just smiled.

He came across a small wall of rocks that seemed lose enough to dislodge. He reached his free arm as to his waist and pulled out a small hammer. He got as much leverage as he could in the tight space and began swinging at the wall. After a few hits the rocks seemed to loosen up and he kept swinging. Lo and behold, the small wall collapsed and he squeezed his way through.

He found himself in a massive cathedral. The sound of running water and the occasional drips of stalactites, giving portions of themselves to the pillars below in hopes that they would eventually meet to join the hanging columns, echoed through the chamber. He stood on a ledge and found he didn’t seem to need his torch as much as he thought as beauteous glowing crystals, larger than the tallest buildings in any village or city he had been to, were scattered all around. He didn’t dare extinguish the torch though as they had only succeeded in finding what the party of two were hoping to find. Only now would the exploring begin.

“By the lords…” He said as he gazed upon the sight.

His follower soon emerged from the tiny entrance and stood up to gaze upon the sight as well. “Whoa. It’s beautiful.” She said. The bluish tint of the natural light of the cave, coming from seemingly unnatural sources, washed away the green color of her fur. “So. I guess we found it.” Her awe was paused as she curled a smile and gave Chuck an elbow to the side. “Guess now that we found this place that means we’re forever cursed like the locals said.”

Chuck gave an ‘oof’ with the hit but had grinned at the joke anyway. “Come on, we only just found the cave. Now we got to find that crown. There may still be many curses that we have to look out for.” His partner rolled her eyes.

The two started making their way down to a ledge where there seemed to be enough footholds to climb down with relative ease. Working their way down, they appeared to be mere ants on a wall compared to the size of the vast open room.

…

[x]

“The cave was far to the northwest of the continent. It was bigger than anything I had seen or explored. I couldn’t imagine making a map of the place. I just made a crude trail on some parchment I had to make sure I got back out.” Chuck spoke to the gang as he dipped a biscuit in some black tea and took a bite. He continued. “There must have been miles of passageways, dozens of rooms and chambers that I was not able to investigate or explore. I ended up finding the crown in a crypt, deep in the cavern. I almost didn’t make it out; it was a very dangerous excursion.” His audience of the usual bunch listened intently. “Not being a greedy man, I had no means to keep the thing.” He let out a sigh and a small smile formed on his face. “Ah, I used to be quite the adventurer back in the day. I gave the crown to the archives in Westport. They have many safeguarded secrets in those archives and I still am confident in its safekeeping there.”

“Wow. Sir Charles, I didn’t know you were a treasure hunter.” Amy stated.

“I wouldn’t call myself a treasure hunter. More of a scholar. There just happens to be many scholarly relics of times of old that may be hidden about.”

“Did you go back into the cave to find anything else?” Sonic asked.

“I would have. Oh the wonders that must have been down there! When I went back, I found that a rockslide must have happened and the entrance, so small and hidden, taking me many hours of research and weeks to find, was covered up. It would take a massive crew to undergo the efforts to clear the rubble. No one other than those at the archives, and now you lot, know of what I found there and I find it best for that information to fade away.” He finished explaining.

“Do you think the other crowns were down there?” Tails asked.

“I don’t know. Possibly. But such things of great historical importance such as that are rarely in the same place. Would have made things much easier back then wouldn’t you say.” He answered with a chuckle to finish.

“So you want us to travel all the way across the continent?” Rouge asked a little unsure about the task if that be the case.

“Heavens no. At least…not quite yet. I hope things won’t come to that. But much of my research to find the crown was done in the library at Smithwick, beyond the Greater Area in the Green Hills. But that journey wouldn’t even make sense for you to go looking in old dusty books and then come back after not even knowing what to look for.” Chuck took off his glasses and looked away knowing what had to be done. “No…this next journey I may ask of you won’t be a simple errand. What I am hesitant to ask of you all, if you shall accept the task, I’m afraid may take you away from South Island for a while.”

“How long is a while?” Rouge asked.

“That depends. Weeks for sure. Maybe months.”

“How would we go about doing that?” Tails began to wonder.

“It won’t be easy. You’d have to do certain jobs here and there for tokens. Beyond Cap, I can’t guarantee a place to stay. And there will surely be many nights where you would have to set up a camp between cities in your travel.”

“You think we could take the Syphon to make things easier Tails?” Sonic turned to him to ask.

“I thought of that but it will surely need a good amount of maintenance on the way which I won’t have a means to do unless I am here usually. It can only do so much, I’d hate for us to come to an impasse and have to leave it somewhere, lose it, or it even break down where we can’t get it back up.” He explained.

“Why do we have to go out and do anything?” Rouge spoke up. “The way I see it, we had some kooks play a grotesque prank at Stark Ruins and now we’re chasing ghost stories. Do we really have to do anything?”

The room was a bit silent as Rouge had brought up a good point. There was no indication of apocalypse, there was no threat that they could tell, and other than some loose connections between pieces of mythology they had no reason to make any further action. But Chuck was smart and he wouldn’t be laying out the framework of such undertaking unless he deemed it necessary, and he definitely wouldn’t be asking them to put themselves in danger and leave South Island out of mere curiosity, despite it being embedded in the Cyan way of thinking. But there was another piece of evidence.

Chuck looked around at the lot and saw Amy shyly staring at the ground. “Amy.” He said warmly. “Do you wish to say something?”

She looked up at Chuck and knew he meant well. She could say no and that would be the end of it. But she felt something was awry. She knew answers needed to be found or else something horrible may come to pass. “I do.” She stood up to speak

“Amy?” Sonic said mostly as a reaction.

“I’ve…been having dreams lately. I know what it sounds like but. They have been…different. They aren’t some surreal haze that you forget about shortly after you wake up or even some fictional scenario or collection of events and memories. They have been clear and almost like a message. All of them foreboding.” She was timid at first but then her confidence overcame her. “They’ve been about the recent events, but because of recent events. In fact lately, they have been about recent events before they’ve transpired. Before we set off for Cap the second time, I dreamt of fire and flood devastating the land. Then we came across those runes about god and giants of fire and water in conflict. The gypsy in the street told me we were special. She knew I was having dreams and I hadn’t said a word to her at that time. I’m think something is about to happen and I think we need to act.”

The room was silent again. Finally Chuck spoke up. “Rouge, you have every right to be skeptical about this. I’m glad you are in fact. So many things can occupy your mind and if you don’t scrutinize them to really determine what they are for, you may succumb to falsehoods. Not at all am I ordering you to undertake this task, by any means. This is your choice.”

“When would you want us to leave?” Sonic asked.

“Not for a while. Before I send you off, I need to do much research and further study the Stair na Seacht to give you all the proper amount of information for your investigations and findings. That will give you time to prepare as well. Overall, so that you are not blind to my goals, I think we need to find the other crowns.”

“Do you expect me to join in on any of this?” Knuckles spoke up for the first time in this meeting.

“I’m afraid this concerns you, as well as anyone. But again, that choice is yours to make. You have your chapter of the Red Society on Angel Island to manage. I would never ask anyone to stray from their duties to their Society.” Chuck answered.

There were many wandering thoughts throughout the room. Yet none of them were spoken. “Can we have some time? Some time to think about it?” Tails asked coyly.

“Of course.” Chuck gave him a warming smile. “I am sorry to have burdened you with this request so suddenly. Go enjoy yourselves. Talk amongst yourself if you so please but rest your thoughts for now.” Slowly, they each got up and made their way out of Chuck’s hut. Once they were all gone, Chuck rubbed his eyes and placed his glasses back on his face. “Chaos have mercy.” He muttered.

…

“Up to the Green Hills. Oh I bet that’d be an awesome sight! Not to mention some great solid ground to stretch my legs. I don’t know about you all but I think I’m decided.” Sonic said enthusiastically as the group walked from Chuck’s hut.

“You won’t even need to do any convincing to give Sonic a chance for adventure.” Amy said almost in a derogatory manner if it wasn’t for the light admiration in her voice.

“Oh you know it!” Sonic responded as he pulled Amy close and gave her a kiss on the top of her head.

“I still don’t know about travelling hundreds of miles away on foot chasing fairy tales.” Rouge spoke up.

“Come on Rouge! Even if it’s for nothing, can you imagine the places and sights we’ll see? Something other than desert and this dusty old town? Don’t get me wrong, I love it here at South Island. But the world is much bigger than this corner of The Greater Area.” Sonic rebuked.

“Would you be joining us Knux if we decide to go?” Tails asked their pseudo-foreign friend.

He gave a huff and crossed his arms. “Why?”

“Why not!” Sonic answered back continuing his enthusiasm.

The echidna let out a sigh. “I have other things to worry about.”

“Oh? Like what.”

“Like my own island. Besides, you all have to learn to take care of yourselves. Can’t rely on me all the time to save your skins.”

“Oh har har har. You say that but we all know you enjoy our little scuffles, let alone our company.”

“Your company? Pfff, I need a break from your company on the regular!” He shouted back annoyed. “And IF I were to come along on your strange trek for some dead guys’ busted up crowns, I’d have to make it back to Angel Island regularly. Its trajectory goes along your path up north, depending on the time of year, and touches the Green Hills. I’d be coming and going often.”

“Sounds like you already thought it through.” Sonic said with a devilish grin. Knuckles looked over at him as Sonic gave a few raises of his eye brows which earned him a heavy shove from the Red.

The group came up to the tavern as Knuckles began to veer toward the road to the main bridge. “Well like Sir Charles said, we have some time to mull it over.” Amy stated. “Oh, are you heading out Knuckles?”

“I am. Someone’s got to make sure my goons up on Angel Island haven’t killed each other.”

“I’m sure Mighty does at good job keeping them in check.” Sonic added.

“Regardless, I’m looking forward to my own home again. I’ll see you in a few passings. Angel Island should be getting close.”

“See you around handsome.” Rouge called out to him. Knuckles threw his hand in the air in somewhat of a wave as he walked on. “I think he has the right idea though. I need my own place for a bit. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” And with that Rouge also departed the group.

…

“What do you mean, your turn? It’s MY hammock! If my ass is planted in it, it’s not leaving until I decide for it to.” Nack the weasel blurted out as he swung lazily in the breeze on a crudely made rope hammock. He flicked his wrist to ‘shoo’ off Bean, closed his eyes and went back to lounging.

“Kinda rude to make the decisions for your ass,” Bean began crawling on his hands and knees around the hammock. “I’m sure if you let it decide,” by now he was underneath Nack, “it’d want to go UP!” At that moment, Bean sprung up and sent Nack flying out of the hammock.

“Bean! I’m gonna kill you!”

Bark was sitting next to one of the trees used by the hammock, relaxing as well. Nack happen to land close to him so Bark quickly grabbed a hold of Nack’s handkerchief to hold him back from charging at Bean.

“Bark resting on bark, holding Nack back from attack!” Bean cheerfully called out as he swung his feet back and forth while sitting upright in the hammock.

Nack, now defeated as he surely wasn’t going to break free from Bark’s grip, crossed his arms to pout. “Bean, at least could you shut that beak of yours?”

“howms mhis?” He answered with a poor attempt at ventriloquism. Nack just sighed.

“Kn-Knuckles is b-b-back!” Ray came into the scene from above as he glided down to the group.

“Geez, it’s about time. The guy should just hand off the island to us with how little he seems to be up here now.” Nack commented.

Mighty strolled up. “Give him a break. He’s been alone up here for over half his life, if the guy wants to see the world and venture out a bit, he is more than deserving to do so.”

“But why the desert though? He always goes down there instead of anywhere else on the globe. He just wants to hang out in the dirt meanwhile it’s paradise up here! And let alone the treasure that’s supposedly up here.”

“Treasure you still haven’t found but are so sure is here?” Mighty taunted.

“Oh there’s treasure here. Heard it many times from people who see this hunk of land floating overhead.”

“And yet none of them have been up here?”

“Irrelevant. Every treasure hunter knows where there’s ruins there’s treasure.” Nack walked over to Bean as he was lying back in the hammock, whistling an odd tune. He flipped Bean out of the rope bed then quickly hopped back into it. “But nothing wrong with living the good life up here in the meantime.”

“Is he still talking about gold and riches?” Knuckles finally made his way up to the group. Bark just silently nodded his head. “I’ve told you, I’ve seen every inch of this island. The only treasure here is solitude and delicious fruit.”

“Maybe that’s the only treasure you care about.” Nack added.

“E-enough for me!” Ray said as he came down from a tree with a pear in his hands, taking a good sized bite from it.

“Ray, sounds like your speech is improving.” Knuckles said warmly as me moved over to another tree and gave it a hard smack with his fists earning a few fruit to fall from the tree. He tossed one to Bark, another to Mighty then took a bite of one for himself.

“I’ve b-b-been p-practicing!” The flying squirrel said excitedly.

Knuckles leaned over to Mighty and whispered. “Still no luck on jogging his memory about your village?”

“No. And at this point I’m starting to think it’s best if he doesn’t remember. He still is the same cheery optimistic guy but that event definitely traumatized him if it’s entirely blocked out from memory. It did something to him, other than give him that stutter that is. I feel for him.”

“Yeah. You’re a good guardian for him you know?”

“He’s like a little brother.” Mighty said with an endearing smile as he watched Ray devour the pear he came across.

“Heh, you two are like some others we know.”

“Sonic and Tails?”

“Yup. Speaking of them, some things went down not too long ago. They’re going to be venturing out up north at least to the Green Hills. I’ll probably be dropping down to join them quite frequently.” Knuckles explained.

“Nack has been getting a little irritant about your absence you know. It might be good to stay for a bit. The gang down there are tough cookies, I’m sure they can handle a lot of the journey themselves you know.” Mighty spoke his two cents.

“I know. But I’m thinking the crazy events that have surrounded their recent ventures are somehow connected to this place too. While I was down there, there were a lot of strange markings in some cavern north of Cap that matched some here in the ruins. Chuck called them runes and some other ancient markings that I have never seen up here before. Can’t remember the name. O-something he called them. I just…really want to know why I was alone up here and what happened to the others of my kind that used to live here.”

Mighty looked at Knuckles for a good bit and saw how him and Ray weren’t the only ones with some deep seeded issues about their past. Though his past was not a particularly great one, he at least knew his past. He decided to verbalize this to him. “I’ll support you buddy. Ray might not remember our village being ransacked, his parents being killed. But I do. It’s not comforting reflecting on it – that village took me in after I escaped that mad man’s experimentation – but I know where I came from and how I got here. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to not even know that.”

“Thanks.” Knuckles rested a hand on Mighty’s should briefly. “Oh, that reminds me. Amy was talking about some dreams she was having again. One of them mentioned a man with a manic laugh. Not going to lie, you don’t hear much about humans anymore. Not much left. But your captivity with that demented fool came to mind.” Knuckles explained.

“It would be horrifying if she’s having premonitions about the same guy. I will say…he did have a strange laugh that would haunt me for the rest of my life…”

#chaos societies #sonic au #episode 7 #the spokes that keep turning #I refuse to let this story die with all I have thought out and planned for #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #rouge the bat #amy the hedgehog #knuckles the echidna #uncle chuck #mighty the armadillo #ray the flying squirrel

4 notes · View notes