#forget-me-not. / your death lies in autumn. (aesthetic.)

[regretbell]

tag drop.

[junie-bugg]

Prospects and Propriety - Chapter One

Summary: Everlark Jane Austen AU

“We’re very similar, you and I.” He turns the leaf over in his palm one last time and then presses it into my hand. His fingertips are warm where the leaf is brittle.

We are, aren’t we? Me, a girl forced to marry by the rules and expectations of society and him, a boy whose freewill was stolen away before he could even walk. We’re both prisoners. Destined to fates we did not choose ourselves. Now I see what was so funny to him.

The two of us: we are absolutely tragic.

Katniss Everdeen and her younger sister Prim are the adopted daughters of Mr. Haymitch Abernathy, a wealthy man with no biological heirs. By the rules of Panem society, an older sibling must be married before the younger can wed. In a time when women have no means of making their own living, marriage is the only way for Katniss to save her sister from destitution and set her up for a happy marriage of her own. Katniss sets her sights on Mr. Gale Hawthorne, a wealthy man who just moved to Whitley and who seems to have his eye on her. But what of the poor baker’s boy who once took a beating to save her life?

Read here on Tumblr or on my AO3 account: izzacrosswriting

Author’s Note: 

This is a story inspired by my love of Everlark and Jane Austen’s novels. I am in no way an expert on the Regency period and I include fashions/details that are not historically accurate.

The setting is an alternate England-like Panem.

The plot is my own (Gale is not Mr. Darcy people, don’t get it twisted) but does borrow aesthetics and ideas directly from Jane Austen and Suzanne Collins.

The cast of characters is a mix of canon Hunger Games and original characters I’ve created.

I plan on including links to music and ambiance videos I used while writing so feel free to explore those! I typically play nature sounds and music together on my laptop so sorry if you're reading on a phone!

Warning: I do plan on this series getting a lil smutty. There will be graphic depictions of violence, sex, and possibly death. I’m still working everything out:)

Nature ambiance(s):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZ9uyQI3pF0&t=1694s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUjUhZ1Yy7Y

Music:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cc9ofwF-e4

(If you want to listen to this on Spotify it's called 'The Secret Life of Daydreams' from the Pride and Prejudice soundtrack.)

Word Count: 1,727

Chapter One

I run my hands through the tall grasses at my waist. It’s the perfect morning. The crisp air doesn’t quite hold that harsh bite of winter that will soon sweep the countryside in blizzards and ice. Emerald leaves hint at the coming autumn with the slightest tint of yellow along their stems. The sun shines bright through branches and I watch the forest come alive with squirrels and chipmunks that scurry through the thick brush. The dirt path I followed to get here grazes the edge of the woods, but I’ve abandoned it to traipse through the wild-flower dotted hillsides instead. 

From this high up, I can see everything. The village of Whitley lies to the west. I can just make out the rooftops of the squat brick buildings off the main square. By this time the merchants will have opened their shops for business. The rest of the countryside is peppered with grand estates and bountiful farmland. Rivers gleam like veins of silver and dirt roads are wreathed in the dust kicked up by horse-drawn carriages. I wish I could stay and sit here all day. I would drink in the sun and drown in the low hum of insects, though Haymitch has warned me of the nasty gossip that follows a lady with a tan and a set of freckles. 

A lady. I almost snort. Apparently, that’s what I am. Or what I need to be if anyone is ever going to ask for my hand in marriage. The thought ruins the good mood my morning stroll had put me in. I throw myself down among the tall grasses and begin plucking mindlessly at their stems. 

Haymitch Abernathy, the legal guardian of me and my sister, has never been one to force us into doing things we dislike. I’m allowed to ride my horse alone, hunt with a bow and arrow, and take off into the woods whenever I please, like some woodland nymph from one of my father’s old stories. If it wasn’t for Prim and my greenhouse back at home I would probably live out here. Until it got cold of course. I’m allowed more freedom than any other young girl in the county, I’m sure. But not even Haymitch can protect me from matrimony. 

My sister is excited for me. I imagine she’s fantasized about her wedding since she knew what a wedding was. To her, marriage is a romantic fairytale. A strong, handsome man of large fortune will sweep her off her feet and give her an estate to run and small, cherub-faced children to care for. To me, marriage sounds like a death sentence. They say if I’m lucky, I’ll marry for love as well as for fortune, but I never want to love someone as much as my mother loved my father. Because when he died, in a way, so did she. The only person I know that I truly love is Prim. 

Primrose Everdeen, my little sister, was never the outdoorsy type like me. She’s fair, with golden blonde hair that hangs in ringlets past her slight shoulders, and a face as fresh and as pure as a spring dewdrop. She spends her days drawing, flower arranging, and studying languages with my old tutor Mrs. Winthrop. 

“She’ll be a highly accomplished woman by the time I’m done with her. Mark my words, this young girl is special,” Mrs. Winthrop had said to Haymitch mere days after first starting Prim’s lessons. She had been my tutor for years and had never said anything nearly as flattering about me. Sullen Katniss Everdeen must have been a lost cause in her eyes. 

I’m four years older than Prim who’s a mere twelve. We share the same parents, though we look almost nothing alike. Where she received the fair skin, blonde curls, and gentle blue eyes of our mother, I received the olive-toned, straight black, and storm grey palette of our father. 

I sit up suddenly, aware that I left home hours ago and it must be getting time for my lessons. I dread heading back to that stuffy room where I’m required to sit straight and learn to be “lady-like” under the scrutinizing gaze of Ms. Effie Trinket, my new tutor. Manners are of the utmost importance to her, seeing as she makes her living off of teaching them. She considers being late an unforgivable sin. 

With this in mind, I take my time gathering wild-flowers. There are so many at my feet, their delicate white and yellow petals peeking up amongst the grasses. I deftly craft two flower chains. One for me, which I place on the crown of my head, and one for Prim clutched in my hands. I notice some dirt under my nails and smile, wondering what Effie will say when I arrive late and grimy. 

She purses her lips and crosses her arms as I enter the room. “Where were you?” She demands in that high pitched voice of hers. 

“Out,” I shrug. I hadn’t seen Prim on my way in so I’m still clutching her flower crown. I offer it to Effie instead. “Flowers?” She squints at my offering, probably checking for bugs, before gingerly taking it and placing it down on a side table. 

“Katniss, I need you to take today’s lesson seriously.” Her clipped tone sets my teeth on edge.

“I always do-” I start, but Effie cuts me off. 

“Don’t lie to me, Katniss. I know you don’t care for etiquette. I know that to you a spoon is just a spoon, even when that spoon is a soup spoon and should only be used for soup!” 

Again with the soup spoon thing, it was one time. But she’s right. I find learning manners and etiquette a waste of time. I’ve only been out in society for a short while. I barely attend balls seeing as I’m sixteen and prefer to stay at home anyway. I look up and realize that Effie is still talking at me.

“Are you even listening? Mrs. Winthrop was right, you are hopeless.” She sighs and wipes non-existent dust off of her shimmery lilac skirts. “It is imperative that you start paying attention and make some kind of progress in these lessons. Mr. Gale Hawthorne has recently taken possession of Templeton and is traveling here, as we speak, to take up residence indefinitely. Do you know what this could mean for you?” Suddenly, her annoyance melts away and is replaced by a teary, almost hopeful expression. The way this woman’s emotions swing back and forth between happy and exasperated hurts my head. She comes to clasp my face between her palms. “Mr. Hawthorne earns ten thousand a year, Katniss. Ten thousand!” 

I have in fact heard of the Hawthornes. Maybe those lessons have had more of an impact on me than I thought. I was forced to spend months poring over books filled with the names and family trees of wealthy, well-known families that I had either already been acquainted with or might be acquainted with in the future. A healthy knowledge of people, especially rich people, will get you far in life. At least that’s what Effie says. 

Gale Hawthorne is the eldest son of the wealthy businessman Ezra Hawthorne. I forget exactly how Mr. Hawthorne first made his fortune but the word mine sticks around in my head. What his mine produced, I’m not sure. Precious gems? Gold? Coal? All I know is the Hawthornes are incredibly wealthy, and Gale being the eldest son inherited when his father died. He is in possession of everything from the family fortune to a legion of servants to the many extravagant houses in Town. Now it seems he’s grown tired with the city and has decided to try his hand at country living. Good, I think. A wealthy man who’s used to the high society of the Capitol won’t last long out here. He’ll be out of my hair before the month’s up. Effie must not realize this since she’s still staring happily into my face. 

“And?” I ask.

“Well, he’ll fall in love with you and ask for your hand in marriage!” She beams as if this is obvious. “If you play your cards right of course. For instance, he won’t find you very agreeable if all you do is scowl at him like you do me-” I jerk out of her grasp. 

Of course. Marriage. It’s one of the only things Effie has talked about the entire time I’ve been her pupil. 

“Yes, Mr. Abernathy warned me that'd you'd be. . .avoidant. But don’t you see? That’s the reason I’m here. To teach you how to win a husband! It’s an art you know.” She sighs, probably seeing the panicked look on my face, and slips back into a tone of tired annoyance. “You’ll have to marry someone, Katniss. Might as well marry knowing you’ll spend the rest of your life in the lap of luxury.”

She’s right, of course. There’s no way for women to make their own living. I can’t go to university to study business or law, I can’t run my own shop, I can’t inherit Haymitch’s estate or fortune. When he dies the money goes to some estranged cousin on his father’s side. I am a woman, therefore, I am destined to either marry or die poor and unprotected. And Prim…

If I don’t marry, then Prim can’t marry. One of the rules of proper Panem society is that a younger sibling cannot marry unless the eldest has, meaning I must be happily settled before my younger sister can even entertain the idea of love. If I don’t get married and Haymitch goes and does something stupid like die, there will be nothing I can do. For either of us. We’d be turned out of the house and left to beg for scraps. And I will not let that happen to Prim. Not again. 

I force myself to swallow past the lump in my throat and spend the rest of the afternoon paying careful attention to Effie. She’s trying to teach me to communicate with men via body language, long gazes, and the fluttering of lashes. 

This is the only way to save Prim, and with each horrible flutter I produce and each disappointed sigh from Effie, I feel my chances slipping away.

[wearebadcode]

‘What lies ahead’

An Apocalypse!AU one-shot inspired by Frank Turner’s ‘Brave face’ and ‘21st century survival blues’ songs. I might expand it at some point -prequel(s) inclusive 😊 Hope you like it!

Oh. If you wanna expand this into a vivid whole experience, you might wanna go to @icarli profile to check this AU aesthetic. It’s awesome!

Autumn had already set in. The always colorful Atlanta was now painted in a bright yellow, orange, red and brown chromatic color scheme. The fall sunlight reflected over the bright woody colors, filling the air with some kind of orange, red sky lights. Soaking in Atlanta's fall colors by walking through the streets of the wooded city was quite an experience. Streets were flooded with trees leaves and roads got foggy as temperature plummeted.

But it was on that autumn when the spooky atmosphere vibe was spookier than ever. The spookiest Chloe remembered since the outbreak.

The city, the state, and supposedly the whole country -maybe the whole world by now- collapsed to their core when this weird and contagious epidemic virus began spreading. The virus was lethal and its consequences, ruthless and savage. Fever, followed by delirium, was the first symptom for the virus to appear. Then and once the blood and internal tissue got infected, the quick and aggressive degradation process of the body began. Rotting was what awaited the bodies in the virus' final stage. Dead tissue. Body decomposition. Death. But a living one, quite paradoxically -which was even worse than death itself.

The first corpse Chloe ever saw was a year and a half ago, on the Atlanta tv news, at their home at Barden campus. When it all began. When they were all still together. When all of them were alive.

But that was then. This was now. What was left of them. Their now. A savage world that became a constant and raw reminder of the things they had to left behind, the family who was no longer by their side. A world in which they had to keep living, reminding and honoring the(ir) fallen ones. That was their ultimate goal: survival.

It was early morning now, the sun was rising. Chloe was sitting on a roof of a house in the middle of nowhere -fog and trees surrounding it. She was now focusing on some corpses who were sleep-walking here and there. The sounds those things made were disgusting -guttural, throaty; as if something inside of what was left of the corpses' vocal chords had ripped. The smell was indescribable.

Chloe, then, heard a sound behind her -she had always her guard up due to the nature of the actual world. The redhead turned her head then her body, prepared to drive her waist-knife into whatever creature. But she recoiled as soon as she saw a familiar figure approaching towards her.

"Hey, sleepyhead" Chloe said, smiling. "I didn't wanna wake you up, so I figured-"

"-you'd be up here by yourself, yeah. I figure that out, too" Beca said softly as she smiled and placed a kiss on Chloe's forehead, before she sat down by the redhead's side. "Couldn't sleep?".

"Not really" Chloe whispered as she placed her head over Beca's left shoulder. "I keep having nightmares now and then. It's been such a rough month...".

October began just like every month. They weren't all alive, they're fewer then -but they're still six of them left alive: Stacie, Flo, Emily, Aubrey, Beca and Chloe. Things were quiet for a while, but they eventually lost Flo and Stacie, who got bitten. A herd of corpses surprised the two women when they're scavenging a few miles away from the house they all were set. 

Flo was caught by the herd. Stacie was close -she got bitten trying to get Flo out, but she couldn't do anything. So the tall one ran out instead and eventually made it to the house. By the end of the month, only four of them were still alive -they had to put Flo out of her misery, rejecting the idea of seeing her friend turn; and Stacie pretty much rejected that idea too when she asked their friends to end her due to her fatal infection. Emily, Aubrey, Beca and Chloe were the only Bellas left alive.

"I've always hated October, but dude... This one's been by far the most hateful... Oh, I brought this in case you were wanting to cup under it?" Beca asked, as she began unfurling a blanket.

"Mmm" Chloe nodded in response. Once they were covered by the blanket, both women looked at each other and shared a smile.

"It only takes me a couple of seconds to forget all of this apocalypse situation by looking into these bright blue eyes of yours, you know that?" Beca said, smiling broadly at Chloe, who was doing the same. The redhead's response came as a kiss on her best friend's lips, who brought her left arm around Chloe's shoulders to brought her closer.

"Yeah, this apocalypse totes sucks" said Chloe, as soon as their kiss broke. Both women rested their foreheads against each other's for a while.

"Come here" Beca whispered tenderly, leaning Chloe towards her; who resumed her position and placed her head back over Beca's left shoulder -the redhead's right arm around the brunette's waist.

"Look at these things... Rotten inside and out... Who would ever want to live like that?" Chloe asked, rhetorically, after a minutes of silence.

"I know. I still have their faces on my mind... I-I just can't un-picture them. It isn't fair that some of us get to live and some of us have to live like... that..." Beca said, pointing to the sleepy-walking corpses. "It isn't fair that we have to keep watching our friends die and then kill them by droving something into their brains, and keep seeing their rotten faces, and keep dreaming about it... It's-"

"-exhaustingly raw, I know. But none of this is fair. It's not fair we have to keep living like this. As if none of us had these tremendous burdens to bear, such as knowing only two of our friends are left alive... Nothing of this is fair at all. To none of us".

"Dude, how did we get used to all of this? Losing friends, losing a part of ourselves every time we had to watch them die... I've never been the crying type, but I feel like I got no tears left to cry. It's... weird".

"I was thinking about that just when you came up here... I guess it's due to how things are now. This world... Everything's rotten, everything's... There's no hope left. We can't think about anything nice nor nicer, because-"

"-nothing is" Beca mumbled with a shadow in her voice.

"Every day is a repetition of yesterday. We keep circling around. On an endless loop. But hey, we gotta keep trying, Bec".

"Keep moving, keep surviving. Yeah, I know the deal. It's just difficult".

"We're gonna stand up at some point, you'll see. We got Emily and Aubrey. And... we got us" Chloe said, as she squeezed Beca by her waist.

"What I see is how this shitty apocalypse is making you braver, tougher and stronger" now was Beca the one who squeezed Chloe's shoulders.

"Oh, but someone had already taught me how to be that strong through the years..." Chloe winked while looking into Beca's eyes.

"You mean Aubrey?".

"Oh, totes!" Chloe joked, and she and Beca chuckled -they'd been keep treasuring these rare, unique and intimate moments for themselves only; the only thing it keep them from falling apart with the world. Then, both women leant into each other and shared a soft, intimate kiss. Once the kiss came to a natural end, they both stared deeply at each other's eyes -getting lost into them, smiling broadly to one another.

"I'd have fallen apart months ago if we weren't... You know..." Beca then whispered.

"I also thought about that, you know? When you found me here I was just thinking about the things we all lost, but also... This had me thinking about the things we have now. Our now. Us. I mean, it probably is the highest price to pay for us to finally be together but I-I'm happy?".

"I'm happy too, Chlo -if we are even allowed to say that... Good thing we stayed up that night, huh?".

"Definitely. I mean, don't misunderstand me. I'm really happy Aubrey and Emily are here with us, and you know that I'd do anything to bring back all the Bellas that couldn't make it, but the truth is I-I-"

"-just need you" Beca and Chloe both said in unison. They kept smiling as they remained in silence for a while, until Chloe broke the ice.

"You remember what you said to me that night? When we first heard about the outbreak?".

"Every single one of them, but which one are you referring to?".

"The one about everyone's need to have an anchor? Which was pretty cute, honestly".

"Ooh. That one, yeah..." Beca blushed a little.

"You're sooooo cute when you blush. What I meant earlier is you were right. Everyone needs an anchor, especially in a post-apocalyptic shitty world. I know that now, 'cause I also know I'd rather turn into one of those things than be alone out here. Without you".

"Aw, Chlo. Be careful, 'cause if my heart explodes I'll be the one who turns into one of those things...".

"Oh, shut up".

"You're right, though. No one who's alone in this would ever survive, because what's the point in surviving if you're just surviving alone. Right?".

Beca and Chloe, then, hugged one another and resumed their positions so they were all cuddled up under the blanket, holding one another into the cold autumn morning while the sun was setting. They faced the horizon ahead of them, looking through the city they once considered their home. Looking at the unknown that lied ahead and beyond -hoping for a new normal; wishing, maybe, for some kind of a new hope.