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clatoera · 2 years ago

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Always Remember We’re Burned For Better Chapter 10: Our Coming of Age Has Come and Gone

Well y’all. This is arguably my favorite chapter I have ever written. It is not as Clato heavy as it is Victor Heavy, and considering the Quell happens next chapter, that makes a lot of sense I promise.

This chapter and these characterizations have taken a lot of workshopping to get to this point (heavy heavy thank you to @afterfawn). Some of the initial thoughts I had when I started this fic no longer even applied. The careers are no longer the 15-18 year old kids they were in the games. They’re adults who have grown and have a lot to lose, and I think that really comes out in this chapter.

I am so proud of the last 3000 words especially. They are some of my favorites I have ever written.

Theres a lot of rage here, and a lot of it I think calls back to feminine rage that I have written entire essays about (Think reproductive autonomy essay, sexual exploitation in the capitol essays which I can link if you want them!)

All this to say I’m actually really happy with this chapter. It is the longest yet.

And shit has gotten ❤️ real❤️

Title from: Peace (Taylor Swift) Which, btw, is one of my top inspo songs for this fic anymore.

Alternative non taylor titles included:

The Last Night of the World

alright

Masterpost

AO3

And as always...thank you to my wonderful wonderful Clato besties, like @ms1818 who have been here since day one and listen to me behave in absolutely unhinged ways in the DMs. (especially you @ohhowwehavefallen who literally tolerates 6789 messages a day)

Alright. Let the chapter begin.

“We look absolutely fucking ridiculous.” Clove hisses next to the chariot, arms crossed over her far too exposed chest. “What happened to the gold and glory and all that shit of the past. They decided to go back to marble for the fucking Quarter Quell?”

“At least you have a shirt.” Cato mumbled, tracing his finger down the intentionally emphasized shadows of his abs. “They may as well have wrapped us sheets and called it a day.”

“You’re supposed to look like statues of the ancient gods,” Enobaria explains, brushing some of the white glitter that is caked on Clove’s collarbones off and to the floor. “At least you look desirable to sponsors, they already know you and how good you are, now they’re getting to see a bit more–”

“A statue of an ancient prostitute maybe?” Clove tilts her shoulder back and steps out of the reach of Enobaria, who is just shaking her head at the young girl’s outburst.

She had a point. Through tight lace corseting and padding they managed to make Clove look far…curvier than she actually is, the top of the white fabric draping dangerously low across the top of her chest. The dress itself was flattering, sure, skillfully draped ivory silk that did make her look rather desirable.

Cato was no better. The same ivory silk that compressed and emphasized her body was slung low on his hips, barely reaching even the tops of his knees. There was no real doubt that they were on display for more than just game sponsors– they were on display for pre-order in case they won.

She didn’t like what that could mean, when winning would mean she was no longer provided the protection of the capitol’s favorite relationship.

Especially, when the current favorite victims, Glimmer and Finnick, would be long past dead.

They had tried not to watch the reapings on the train ride up. It wasn’t going to change their plan– ally with one and four, take out twelve. Enobaria and Brutus, in true mentor mode, had forced them to watch, anyway.

They had watched as beautiful Glimmer took the stage with her signature brilliant smile, only to falter slightly when Marvel was reaped immediately after her.

They watched as Finnick Odair smiles and waves when his name is called, and an incredibly elderly woman takes a hysterical Annie Cresta’s place. They did not know the story, but they knew Finnick would feel incredibly indebted to her. She could be a liability, sure, but having Finnick on their side was far more important than that. Besides, Clove likes Annie. Deep down she is glad she isn’t here to fight too.

Johanna Mason, naturally, was reaped as Seven’s only female option.

A woman from eight who was separated from her crying children, made even Clove pause for a moment. She wouldn’t be the one who killed their mother, but she also wasn’t going to just let her go if the time came.

The man though. Oh he was hers. She can picture it as if it is still playing in front of her eyes. His hand, her mother’s neck. A one-two smack against the cornucopia that had rendered her lifeless and him a victor.

Oh he is hers. He is going to look into the same green eyes, the same dark hair in his face and he is going to beg her for the mercy of death. This is her grand show, her final gift to herself. She is taking him out and leaving him to be shipped back to eight in a 3 x 3 crate and not a long pine coffin.

Everyone else was unremarkable. Of course fire-girl and loverboy made it back in. This was all their fault after all.

Surely, everyone would be in agreement that they were target number one…right?

Glimmer and Marvel are scurrying over from their own chariot, and Clove’s eyes go wide at the sight of Glimmer specifically.

Her dress is transparent flesh toned mesh, skin tight, and truly leaving nothing to the imagination. There are crystals of some sorts– Clove may so far as to say Diamonds, this is a victor after all– strategically placed so as to keep the dress appropriate for the broadcast.

This girl who is so beautiful and so sure of herself gives a melancholy smile and does a half twirl once she reaches her friends. “Guess they wanted everyone to have one last look at what they’ll be missing, right?” She gives Clove a pitiful glance when she notes the artificial curvature they’ve constructed on her. “Looks like they’re trying to market you two, too…Just think about it. I’ll be dead, Finnick will be dead.. Who’s going to become the newest prize?” She stands closer to Marvel, leaning her head against the sky blue silk of his own diamond crusted shirt.

“Serves them right. Let them do it to their own kind.” Marvel takes her hand and squeezes it, the affectionate gesture far more than Clove has ever publicly seen from the two. After all, it’s far harder to advertise a sale on a girl in a relationship. “We’ll be allies, right? Career Pack to end all Career Packs.”

“Obviously. And we won’t be as stupid as our idiots last year.” Clove rolls her eyes, crossing her foot in front of the other at the same time she crosses her arms over her chest, suddenly even more self conscious about the exposure in the same light as Glimmer. “We’ll want Finnick, obviously. He’s got the old woman but she won’t be a threat. Johanna too. Not a career, but we want her.” She’s our friend goes unsaid.

““And there's Finnick now- Finnick!” Cato calls him over, waving the presumed fifth of their career alliance.

The man saunters over, all bronze skin and a knotted gold net as the entirety of his costume. He’s got that bright white smile as he looks them over. “Are we going to a tribute parade or a brothel advertisement?”

“You know as well as I do what the answer is to that, Finnick.” Clove reaches out to run her hand across the corner of his shoulder. “Are we all covered in fucking Glitter?”

“Capitol special.” Finnick remarks, glancing over behind his shoulder to other gathering districts, seemingly looking for someone, before turning back to address Cato. “You called?”

“Yeah. Figured it goes without saying, but you’ll be part of our alliance, right? We’re all victors, but we’re still the best that it gets.” Cato explains, naturally taking on the leadership of the alliance at least in appearance. Sure, he would be the front runner, but Clove always was and always would be the brains behind the operation. They worked this way.

Finnick grimaces, his jaw tightening as he looks down towards their feet. “Actually..I can’t commit to that. There's other things in the works right now. With Johanna and–”

“You’re actually turning us down?” Clove snaps, dark eyes for the first time seeing him as the enemy he is choosing to be. “We were going to invite Johanna too, that's not an issue.”

“The issue is not Johanna. There are other alliances I've committed to–” He half whispers, and shoots a look towards Glimmer that Clove cannot intercept enough to decipher.

“If it isn’t Johanna then– Oh my god it’s twelve isn’t it?” Clove hisses, Cato’s hand finding her shoulder and holding her back. Now is not the time for their violent outbursts. “You’re choosing that bitch over us? Do you know how stupid you two have to be?” Of course it had to be her. Who else would be worth shirking the career alliance over.

“If you’re not our ally, you’re our enemy. You know that, right?” Cato reminds, the threat evident in his voice. This is the most restrained he’s been in the face of anger in– well, maybe ever. It’s almost scarier to hear than his enraged outburst would have been.

“That's a risk I'm unfortunately going to have to take.” Finnick nods towards Glimmer, but if he is trying to communicate something it is lost on the absolute betrayal in her face.

“After all we’ve gone through together!” Glimmer whispers, disbelief all over her beautiful features. “We have been a team through all of this– and that doesn’t matter to you?”

“Glimmer, this isn’t personal. If you will talk to me after the parade i’ll–”

“No. This is the most personal decision you can make. I don’t want to talk to you, not ever again.”

“Glimmer, I really think you’d like to hear what I have to say–”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Glimmer scoffs, turning on high heels to head back to the one chariot.

“You’re going to regret this, Finnick.” Cato warns, giving Finnick a confused stare. Why would he choose someone else, and why wouldn’t he admit to who it was?

“I certainly hope I don’t.”

Training is uneventful as to be expected when the majority of the tributes are well past their prime and battling one addiction or the other.

Cato and Clove, however, are at their peak. This is what they trained for the entirety of their lives, of course. He hacks dummies into pieces, and she never misses a single target. When they sneak off after a particularly good round of hand-to-hand sparring, no one bats an eye.

Johanna catches them all off guard when she struts around completely naked.

Glimmer, for all she is mad at Finnick, is the most social of the careers. She is caught sitting with Finnick’s partner for hours one afternoon, learning various knot tying with the tips of her fingers.

When Katniss pulls the attention of the room with a display of her shooting prowess, the four of them are the only ones who do not cease training to gawk.

When they all earn Elevens in their training session, Clove is sure that they out did her this time.

Katniss and Peeta both get a twelve and Clove whips her head towards Cato.

“That bitch is mine.”

“Not if I get her first.”

“I feel like they’re trying to make a point with this.” Enobaria admits, as she kneels down and spreads the back train of Clove’s long, black lace gown out behind her. “This is just atypical for interviews.”

Clove turns to glance at herself over her shoulder in the mirror. Black, bejeweled lace covered from her neck to her wrists, somehow both exposing her skin and covering her completely. The bottom of the dress, the same heavy lace, flowed well past her feel and trailed behind her. There was a heavy black fabric under the lace, too, really holding her in. From the back of her neck to the floor are hundreds of tiny black buttons, holding the dress tight to her body. She imagined this must feel something like being suffocated by a snake.

It was so unlike the capitol, to cover them so fully, and to go with something so…historical?

“It feels like one of those old timey wedding dresses. Just..in black. It feels like i’m going to a funeral.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Enobaria twists her in her arms, back so she is face to face with the girl she raised. “Well… it kind of is a funeral in its own way isn’t it? Maybe you’re supposed to be the bride of death, or whatever that old story is. You know how they like their symbolism.” She grabs her by the chin, pulling her up to meet her eyes. “I don’t know what you and he are planning on pulling this week, Clove, but you had no reason to volunteer when they pulled me. You know I can handle myself.”

Clove wraps her hand around Enobaria’s wrist, and almost leans into her hand. “Enobaria…”

“No, do not get all sentimental on me right now Clove Kentwell-”

“Let me. You raised me, really. My grandma didn’t want me, I know that much. If you hadn’t been there for me…I don’t know if I’d have survived childhood. And I do know that if it hadn’t been for you I never would have been a victor.” Clove holds onto Enobaria’s hands with her own, leaning her chin into her palm. “I would have lost both of you in the games. After all you have given me.. This is as close to a thank you as I can give you.” Clove wraps her arms around the woman’s shoulders, tucking her face into the crook of her neck not caring for a second longer about the hard facade they have always had to maintain. “Thank you.”

“Don’t be going all teary Clove, you are still in this.” Enobaria reminds her, careful not to mess with the intricate pins and baubles that held up all of Clove’s incredible quantity of hair. “Go out there, and remind them of who you are and where you come from.”

She lifts her head from her tribute’s shoulder when she sees Cato round the corner. “I’ll give you a few minutes alone, okay? Remember what I said.. Remember who you are, Clove.”

Clove turns to face Cato as Enobaria turns to leave, and sees him in a very simple but elegant black suit.

“What is with these outfits? How does this say District Two?” Cato huffs, closing their distance with a few short steps, one hand wrapping around her waist while the other cradles her face. “You look beautiful, anyway.”

“I look fucking bizarre. This weighs more than I do.” Clove slides her arms under the jacket of his suit, resting her chin on his chest. “What are we even going to say? Yeah we won the games a few years ago. Just replay our first interviews, if they want us to brag about the glory of District Two.”

“We could go tell the world what we did.” He teases, running his thumb over her cheek bone. “Go pull the sponsors with a secret wedding admission.”

“Oh please, like anyone would believe we did that.” Clove rolls her eyes, but smiles regardless. “That’s some shit Loverboy would try to pull.” Clove pushes back in his arms, and playfully spins in a circle. “Oh no, my dress didn’t catch fire to distract from the fact I have no personality.”

Cato laughs, pulling her in with his hands on her face so he can lean down to kiss her. “You’re far too good for those fire girl tricks. Come on, baby.. We’re going to miss our big entrance.”

They descend the elevator hand in hand, and step out just in time to see Glimmer being called onto the stage.

“Let's give it up, for Glimmer!” The voice of Caesar Flickerman booms, his hand gesturing towards stage left where Glimmer makes her grand entrance. Her dress is a short, tight strapless thing, barely to the top of her thighs, absolutely coated in crystal colored stones. There is a shimmering golden fabric from around her waist that trails behind her to the floor in a sparkling, dazzling train. She is all legs and tan skin and she is absolutely glowing.

Their dearest capitol golden girl.

“Aren’t you positively shining.” The man with the lavender hair praises, turning the audience into a crowd of absolute screams for their favorite starlet. He gestures for her to sit and she deftly brings the golden skirt to rest on her thighs, hiding the skin that otherwise would have completely been exposed to the world. “I think we can all agree, we will certainly miss you!”

“Oh well I'm sure you’re all going to miss parts of me, that's for sure!” She never falters, the smile on her face remaining steadfast despite the taken back look of her host.

“Yes…well! I’m sure you’re excited to be going back in? Did you have to out compete your siblings for the honor?” He directs the microphone in her direction, and she shoots another shining grin, never missing a beat.

“Of course, my parents were very excited to decide which daughter was going to be spared.” Spared of the games or the abuse at the capitol, well, that's up for debate.

“What is she doing?” Clove hissed to Marvel, pulling him in by the shoulder. “Does she realize what she’s–”

“She knows. This is her last stand.” Marvel nods, a proud smile creeping onto his face. “She knows.”

Caesar adjusts his neckline a bit uncomfortably, eyes shifting across the audience and off stage. “Yes..well. Do you have any hopes for the arena? I think we all remember that beautiful island you won on, are you hoping to return to something that tropical?”

“Of course I remember my arena! When I was fifteen and encouraged to continue to strip down in the heat? When we were dressed in bathing suits? With weather that just kept getting hotter and hotter until I was left in nearly nothing!” Glimmer giggles, one hand waving it off. “I’m sure everyone would love a return of that.”

“She’s putting a target on her back.” Cato whispers, though none of them can dare look away from the screen in which Glimmer continues to command the interview, which is quickly and rapidly slipping out of Caesar Flickerman’s control.

“She doesn’t want to come back to the abuse, does she?” Johanna chimed in from the opposite side of Cato, where she stands with a coy smile on her face. “I never thought blondie had it in her. Good for her.”

“...yeah, well! The only man who actually cares about me as a human is being sent in with me so! We’ll have to see.” She responds to a question they do not hear, and the various gasps amongst the audience end her interview abruptly. Glimmer stands and sees herself off, waving at the crowd as she saunters off the stage.

Glimmer steps down from the stage, and as she approaches the group of victors she abruptly throws her arms around Marvel’s neck, and brings him down with her in a deep, searing kiss.

“Damn, it’s good that Mags volunteered for Annie, this was about to be a fucking episode of the Hunger Games, couples edition. More like the mother fucking newleywed games, at this rate” Johanna snarks, watching as Glimmer wipes her pink lipstick off of Marvel’s face before he goes to his own interview.

They all pause, though, at her comment.

That truly feels far, far, far too coincidental.

Even Clove, who volunteered– did so for the woman who raised her. Naturally, of course she’d volunteer for her.

Conveniently, every single other pair of them had been reaped.

Marvel takes the stage next, with a charming, funny demeanor that can’t help but make you smile. Maybe he’d be the ideal victor out of this, in the end. He talks about his first games, about the rainforest arena, the blistering heat, and how the only two who had been left in the end had been him and a thirteen year old girl. He beams over being a victor, and does not mention how the ghost of the little girl he skewered like shrimp still haunts his dreams.

“Yeah! Actually isn’t it funny? These games are effectively wiping out the victor gene pool.” Marvel laughs, but the smile Caesar naturally wears drops the second the comedic boy’s tone takes this slight shift. “What are the chances that so many of us got pulled in together! That's just..such a funny coincidence isn’t it?”

“Yes well..How do you suppose that?”

“Well think about it! 25% of us are literally dating each other! There’s a whole pool of untapped potential in what could have been the kids of multiple victors! You don’t think Cato and Clove would have been committed to making sure their own kids were victors over in two? Glimmer’s the most beautiful, funny woman I’ve ever met, and she’s out of the race too. There's a whole generation– of future victors, honestly– just..completely wiped out because their parents are all going to die this week!” He turns to address the audience directly with a wide smile never leaving his face. “You all are the ones really missing out, right? No more Victor weddings! No more Victor kids! Yeah! It’s definitely the Capitol citizens who are suffering for this!”

Clove tightens her hold on Cato’s hand as Marvel sees himself off the stage. The temptation is weirdly potent. To mention how their life events have been manipulated to distract from Katniss Everdeen, how they have relinquished control of their dreams in exchange for safety for his sister. His sister. No, they could not say anything, they came this far to protect her after all. As if she knows he is thinking the same thing, Clove tugs on his sleeve to steal his attention. “We can’t say anything Cato, your sister–”

“We know.” Glimmer promises, intercepting their conversation as she reaches out to take Marvel’s hand upon his return. “Don’t risk her.”

Clove and Cato both nod, sharing a look in complete and total agreement. No secrets, no rocking the proverbial boat. They were district two, anyway. They were expected to be flawless. The most loyal.

However, when Clove is called to the stage, Cato links his fingers with hers and walks out side by side with her for the last time.

“”Oh, would you look at that! What a treat! We ask for Clove and we get Cato too!” Caesar encourages, though Clove can see the sweat on his skin forming over his perfectly makeup covered face. Already, the victors are getting to him, and the night has just begun.

“We’ve always been a team.” Clove explains, as she moves to sit side by side next to Cato on Caesar's mini couch. “We were always meant to go into the games together. Guess it’s finally our chance.”

The audience gives an awwww, and Clove feels the high neck of lace practically choking her as she forces a smug smile on her face.

“Yes! That’s right! And how do you feel, now that you have gotten a second chance to do this together! Don’t you feel so lucky?”

“We have been partners for ten years.” Cato cooly says, dodging the implication of the question without flat out denying it. “This is, ultimately, what we have always worked for. We’ve always been the best, Clove and I. ”

“And Clove! You are one of our only volunteers this year. What was going through your mind?”

Clove gives half a smile, and looks out into the audience, searching for her mentor. Searching for her friend. “I was thinking that when my mom died.. Enobaria, she raised me. This was my way to pay her back. Or maybe get one up on her, be a double victor, who knows.” Clove meets eyes and nods, and Enobaria just shakes her head. Of course she wasn’t doing this for glory– but they had a reputation to uphold.

They get an entire six minutes, the combination of both of their time, to play the role of the brutal victors from Two one last time.

Finally Caesar asks them, as they sit their arm in arm, grounding each other from the rage that was bubbling up deep inside them. “How will you carry on the legacy of the other, when only one of you emerges as victor.”

Clove feels him tense next to her, and she squeezes his hand tightly. This was the one thing they did not address, the idea they never entertained.

“We have been partners our entire lives.” Cato gets out through a clenched jaw, squeezing tightly to his wife’s small hand in his own. “Going in together has been all we have ever focused on.”

“And who says we will come out without each other?” Clove decides, giving an oh so innocent smile. Sure. It could be read as snarky– but it could also be read as a love struck young girl not yet accepting the death of the love of her life. However they chose to see it was beyond her.

Caesar bristles as he announces them together, and they walk off, hand in hand, never once looking at the audience who gawks at them.

They leave the stage and see their friends still gathered, but more specifically see Finnick and Johanna hounding Glimmer.

“I already told you, you made your choice, and i’m not interested in hearing you out on anything anymore–”

“Glimmer, you need to listen to us–”

“No, Finnick, after all we have gone through you still chose someone else.” Glimmer backs away from both Johanna and Finnick, who are looking over their shoulders in watch and speaking in just above hushed tones.

“Meet with us after the interviews, just for a few minutes.” Johanna half pleads, and Clove can see Glimmer roll her eyes.

“Why, so you can explain your abandonment? No thank you!” Glimmer pushes past them both, brushing both off to stand in her wake. “We’ll see you in the arena.”

“Glimmer. Ten minutes. That's all we need.”

“No. I don’t want to go into tomorrow hating you, so stop it!”

The interviews are continuously eventful.

The man from three questions the legality of the quell, something Cato hadn’t even considered. Since when couldn’t the Capitol decide what was law?

Finnick recites a poem by heart, dedicated to his love. Thousands of capitolite women scream in the audience, both thinking it's for them and at the reality of the loss they will be facing with Finnick’s possible death in the next weeks.

“Annie.” Clove whispers only for Cato as she watches Finnick lock eyes with the camera on stage. “It’s for Annie.”

Johanna is her own kind of unhinged, as to be expected from the woman who walked around completely naked all week. “Fuck that, and fuck anyone who had something to do with it.”

“You’re something else.” Clove laughs at Johanna just as she struts off stage, but is caught off guard when Johanna simply stares past her.

“A wedding dress? Seriously?” She scoffs, and Clove and Cato turn at the same time to see the object of her commentary.

Indeed. There she was. The Girl on Fire in her oversized ivory ball gown, stumbling through like a newborn giraffe learning that it has legs.

“Well that's why they put me in this then.” Clove snaps, whipping her head towards Cato. “She’s in a wedding dress, I’m in the fucking opposite. The antithesis of the girl on fire and her white wedding. Even in our last fucking days, we exist to distract from her?” She narrows her eyes at the girl, looking her over with a killer scowl, a hunter sizing up her prey.

“...Snow made me wear it.” Katniss does not meet eyes with Cato and Clove, instead addressing Johanna directly.

Hell, Maybe snow insisted on her mourning dress as well.

The group of them are led to the entrance to the stage, where Cato and Clove are ushered to the top where all other victors were standing for the final ceremony, while Johanna pauses to encourage Miss Girl on Fire.

“Make him pay for it.”

They are stationed beside Glimmer and Marvel, whom they have already planned to meet on the rooftop after the interviews, for one last ‘planning’ meeting for their alliance tomorrow that would just so happen to include their favorite drinks.

Katniss says nothing of substance, yet again, but does in fact spins in her little dress for a big reveal. This time she looks like a bird of some sort, and if Clove is honest, the dress is far less impressive than the gorgeous white gown she had previously donned.

“I don’t get it? A bird?” Cato mumbles in her ear, and Clove has to bite back the snarky smile she so desperately wants to let out. Always on the same wavelength, especially when it came to fire girl.

Peeta Mellark though, oh that boy is dangerous with his words, this much Clove knows.

The big reveal at his last interviews likely saved his life.

Caesar is prattling on about lost opportunities between the star crossed lovers, and Cato nearly zoned out completely when he hears Peeta drop his first big shocker.

“Oh, actually we got married. In secret!”

“A secret wedding? Alright, do tell.”

Clove feels Cato’s hand tighten around her wrist and she knows the bored expression on her face has twisted into rage.

“Are you fucking joking?” Cato whispers, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her closer, instructed positions on the pedestals be damned. “There's no way.”

“Not a fucking chance. This is one of his little fucking schemes.”

“Maybe we should have said–”

Their harsh whispers are interrupted by the entire room erupting into gasps and outrage, in a cry for cancellation of the games.

“If..if it weren’t for the baby.”

“Oh absolutely not!” Clove hisses, snapping her head towards loverboy and his bird girl. “They’ve never fucking touched–”

The absolute outrage of the audience throws Clove off.

This is their final straw?

It is not the mother who left behind a toddler, or the other mother who is now on this stage to leave behind three children.

It is not the children trained to kill, chosen in their formative years and handed a weapon that weighs more than they do.

It is not the 23 children who die a year.

It is not the 1701 tributes who have died in the last seventy five years.

It is nonexistent – and oh, Clove isn’t stupid, she knows it is nonexistent– theoretical fetus that belongs to the star crossed lovers of District Twelve.

And yet the rage overtakes her so much that when she sees the joining of hands she cannot help but join in.

When the lights are cut they are all ushered off stage, quickly and aggressively while the audience is forcibly cleared out.

“We'll see you soon?” Glimmer calls out to them as her and marvel are led to one elevator while Clove and Cato are led to another. In the distance she can hear Finnick calling out for Glimmer, a final desperate attempt, but she continues to ignore him out of the betrayal she still feels.

They are escorted by wordless peacekeepers, who drop them off at the entrance of the District Two Floor, suspiciously alone.

“Where are our mentors?” Cato asks, noting the suspiciously silent apartment.

“Tributes are to have no further contact with anyone other than their district partners until the games. New policy.”

“So that's it? We don’t even get goodbyes?” Clove steps forward, and Cato has to grab her before she accosts the uniformed man.

“It’s the policy. You are not to leave this floor until tomorrow.”

They are left alone and Clove’s fists slam on the door behind them.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye!” She hits the wall once again, and violet covered bruises cover her fingers. “What’s happening out there?”

Beyond the windows they can hear the absolute riots that are taking place in the streets, demands to cancel the games, and to send the victors home.

“All of that over a fake baby? Theres no fucking way she’s pregnant, Cato. Look at them! I don’t believe it for a second, that girl is a fucking virgin if i’ve ever seen one–”

“I know. I want him. I want to take out Lover Boy.” Cato pulls Clove back by the waist, keeping her from causing any more harm to herself before morning. Her hands are far too valuable for her survival to let her bludgeon them. “For that little fake married story. He’s a liar.”

Cato is immediately working to get her out of this constricting dress, to let her change before their midnight meeting. He fumbles with the dozens of buttons, hands far too large for such delicate work.

“Cut it off.” Clove instructs, leaning her arms on the back of the couch. “Cut this fucking thing off of me. I hate it, get it off.”

Cato takes the small knife she slides at him– not asking where she got it from, not the point– and slices through the buttons on her back, freeing her so she can finally take a deep, gasping breath. She never got her goodbye, but she will get her glory.

“Cato?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I better get two fucking canons when I take her out tomorrow.”

At midnight, long after the shock of not getting to say goodbyes to their mentors and families, long after the dramatics have died down, they all meet on the rooftop as planned. They know they could face a grave punishment for the blatant disregard for the instructions to stay separated, but really, haven’t they already painted big enough targets on their backs already?

They each come prepared, with a bottle of their favorite Capitol drinks and their favorite Capitol treats, dressed in various combinations of boyfriends’ sweaters and plush capitol sweatpants, a far cry from the luxury and glamorous facade they maintain all week.

Among salsa and chips and pizza and fries and the top quality red wine, they live the last night of their lives as they know it.

If you squinted, for a minute, they just looked like four normal kids. Maybe even lifelong childhood friends, or college roommates at the end of a long semester.

And honestly, for a night, they even felt like normal adults. Sharing stories of training days and childhood, of adolescent affection and academy scandals. If they were going into this as allies, as friends, they were also going to go in knowing the humanity of their team.

“What do you guys think you’d be doing if there weren’t games?” Marvel leans back on the palm of his hand, scooping up another tortilla chip. “Y’know. If you could be anything.”

Clove looks to Cato, and they share a half-hearted shrug. This had been the entirety of their lives, there was never any other option.

“I don’t think we ever gave much thought to that.” Cato admits, finishing off the basket of chips between the four of them. “All we had ever even known were the games. The honor and pride that comes with winning, it’s literally all we were raised on. I don’t think we even have skills for a world that doesn't have games. They stopped regular classes once we were fifteen… Clove, can you even imagine us trying to do math anymore?”

“That was the glory of the academy, you know? You either never need to know these things because you’re a victor, or you’re dead. Either way.. accounting wasn’t ever going to be your calling, baby.” Clove leans back against his chest, reaching for the bottle of wine that had just been passed between them for the last hour or so. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, spending the last night of their lives drinking on the training center roof instead of resting, but truly what did they have left to lose?

“We always planned to be trainers, after.” Clove continues in explanation, Capitol-polished nails clicking along the empty green glass. “ Figured we’d win. Become trainers. Mentor for a decade. That’s really it.”

“That's all you ever wanted? Really? Your entire life just.. built around the games?” Marvel shakes his head, letting out a little huff of disbelief, before he is on his side, his face propped up in his hand as he watches them. “Come on. It’s the last night of the world. The last night of maybe all of our lives. Think about it. If it could be anything at all, what would you do?”

“Of course our lives are built around the games, we’re from District Two, what other choice did we ever really have?” Cato scoffs, but his hand wraps around Clove’s waist and brings her in flush against him. Of course he knew what he’d want- and it was and always would be her. In every version of their lives, it would always have been her.

Cato isn’t sure he believes in anything after death, but if there's another life after this one, maybe he’ll be so lucky to find her there, too.

“I would’ve been a comedian.” Marvel announces, a smile in his voice that betrays that even now he is managing to make .”I have a gift. It’s a shame I didn’t get to share it with the world. Sorry, that's why the games actually exist, to contain me. I’d be too powerful without them. Snow personally has to humble me.”

Clove can’t help but give out half of a laugh at his confidence, and even she had to admit, the kid is funny sometimes.

“I’d have been a mom.” Comes a soft, near-whisper from the Blonde woman, who is toying with the empty wine glass in her hand. “When I was little, I had these two little dolls I took everywhere. I told my own mom all the time, that they were my babies and I was their mama. I remember them so so clearly. They had blonde hair and green eyes, my dad got them for me for my fifth birthday, they were meant to look like me.” She smiles, then, a wishful, longing smile that was still somehow so genuine it made Clove’s heart ache for her and the life she never could have had. “I told my mom all the time that I wanted to have pretty little girls, like me.”

Her face hardens, shifting to a cold, calculated undercurrent of rage that has been brewing inside her for quite some time.

“Noone ever warns you of how dangerous it can be to be a pretty little girl.” Glimmer crunches her hand around the stemless glass, and the faintest crack can be heard. The glass does not shatter, but small hairline cracks begin to spread out like a spider’s web from under her thumb. How representative of her tolerance for the past seven years, to the slow splintering of her life, never quite shattering all the way. Until tonight. “I had never had a choice, once my sister and brother won. I was always going to have to go in…” Glimmer reaches for the final of the four bottles, the only with anything left to try to salvage. “The only way I could protect them was just never to have them. That was my greatest act of love for the daughters I wanted– to never even have them. ”

“Worked out for the best.” Clove offers, threading her fingers through Cato’s, fulling letting his frame envelop hers. “They’d just be orphaned from the games now, anyway. Wouldn’t really recommend that for a kid…” Clove shifts the tone, away from the pain and loss of Glimmer’s dream life. “Speaking of! Tomorrow. I want eight.”

Fire girl they can fight over tomorrow. Finnick and Johanna, who shrugged off years of friendship to team up with Twelve over them, they could deal with at a later date (and maybe, if they were lucky enough, someone else would take out their traitor friends before they had to). “He’s mine.”

“Some random middle aged man from eight? Weird for you, I thought you’d want one of the actual threats.” Marvel scoffs, as he sits up and brings Glimmer to his lap, wrapping both his arms around her before resting his chin on her shoulder. He whispers something Clove nor Cato catch, though they know it was not for their ears.

Not that they could blame them. Some things are better left between lovers.

“I watched him kill my mother every day for twelve years. I don’t know who’s coming out of these games but it sure as fuck isn’t going to be him. I want him, I want Katniss too, but I want him most of all.”

“You can have him.” Glimmer shrugs, laying back in the arms of her boyfriend, smiling a little at the opportunity to acknowledge him as such for the first (and last) time after her admission in her interview. “Make him remember what he took from you.” She tucks her head into the crook of Marvel’s neck, her body relaxing entirely once settled against his.

There is an understanding in the silence. In the way they have so casually referred to the night as the end of the world. Within a week, three of them would be dead. Though, there was an understanding that the fourth likely wouldn’t be fighting their way to the top again either.

“....are we even trying?” Cato finally asks. He has been unanimously understood as the impromptu leader of their alliance. His question is implied, and their silence is good enough as a response. They will fight. They will put on their show. But they are not coming out of this.

No. Glimmer is not fighting to come back to this world alone. She is not fighting to be placed with a higher value on her head than ever before, when the other top shelf choice would be dead as a result. She is not fighting to survive in a world without Finnick’s sly commentary at auctions. She is not coming back to a world where the only men who touch her do so with aggression in their hands and sleazy comments on their breath. She is not coming back to a world without the only man who has treated her like a person, who made her laugh before he ever tried to touch her, who knows she likes french toast with blueberries, or who has ever seen her as more than a pretty face and a body to kill for.

No. Marvel will not come back without her, either. He is not coming back to a world where his only memorable trait is winning the games with the spear to the heart of a child. He is not coming back to a world that doesn’t remember his last name, but remembers him as the 69th victor. He is not coming back to a world that stares a bit too long if he is not saying something funny, a world that does not see him as anything more than something to laugh at. He is not coming back to a world without long golden hair that covers his pillowcases, a girl who steals his sweatshirts over Capitol couture, who has the only laugh worth earning.

No. Cato may have the most back home, but without Clove, no, he is not coming out either. He is not coming out without the girl who gave him his first real scar at 10, one that still sits where his shoulder meets his neck. He is not coming out without deep green kaleidoscope eyes and snide, snarky commentary that became his damnation. He is not coming out without a girl with perfect aim, who uses those fine, fine skills of hers on more than just her prey. He is not going home to a house that does not have her warm, autumnal scent year round. He is not living in a home without bed sheets folded in perfect squares. He does not want to live in a world where she doesn’t use clover honey in earl gray tea out of dedication to her name (even though she thinks wildflower honey is better). He is not coming home to a space devoid of the way she hums in the kitchen, or talks to herself as she brushes her hair. He is not coming out without the girl he has loved for the majority of his life. He is not coming out without her. He is not going home without his Clove, his partner.

No. Clove has already lost everything to the games. She has lost her childhood and the only person in the world who loved her in her youth. She has lost her innocence and the child-like comfort of knowing someone would pick her up when she cried. She had lost her mother with a voice like honey and a heart like gold. Clove lost it all to the games, yes, but gained everything she had, too. Clove was born to one tribute but practically raised by another victor, who taught her the value of self preservation before she could even form sentences. She had met a boy who broke her clavicle the day they met, but hadn’t broken her heart in the ten years since. She is not going home to a world where the games have taken him, too. She is not going back without arms that feel as close to home as she has ever known when they hold her. She is not going back to a world without his mismatched socks, because they are hidden by shoes . She is not going home to a world without things held above her head to make her stand on her toes to plead for it back with a kiss. She is not going back without ocean colored eyes and golden hair like a halo, though he’s always been far from angelic. She is not coming back to a world without him. Without him waiting for her, there is no home to go back to. She is not going home without her Cato, her lifelong forever partner.

They will fight, they will put on the show. But they will not win.

The melancholy silence that has fallen between them becomes too much to bear for Glimmer first.

She wipes at the corners of her eyes so quickly that it wouldn’t have been noticeable if not for the crack in her voice. “Well. I guess we should get going. Before they catch us and just..execute us on the spot.” Glimmer pushes herself to her feet, offering her hand out to Marvel and pulling him up as well.

Clove and Cato nod in their silent agreement, pulling each other to a standing position before their friends. He threads an arm around her shoulder, giving a solemn nod of his head, before they turn to head down their nearest staircase.

“I think in another life, we could have been friends.” Comes across the training center, in the broken, teary voice of the once radiant Glimmer. “If things had been different. We would have been friends.”

Clove turns, shrugging out of Cato’s grasp and making a beeline for the girl. Without warning she reaches out her hand to close the gap between them.

“We are friends. In another life you could have been a mother. In another life I could have had a mother. In another life maybe we would have had a lot of things– but even in this life, Glimmer..we are friends. This is..the closest to friendship that I'll ever have. You are my friend.” Next to Cato, this was the best friend she had ever had.

Glimmer nods and squeezes at her hand, though the smile she tries to give her is overtaken by the flood of tears running down her face. “It would have been really really nice to have had those things, too.”

Their hands fall and in understanding they turn away. Glimmer’s sob echoes across the training center roof, and Clove finds herself curling into Cato’s side.

If she feels a tightness in her throat or a stinging in her eyes well- that's her own secret to keep. If Cato notices her watery eyes– he loves her enough not to mention it.

The next time they gather like this will be around a fire in the arena tomorrow night. If they all even make it that long.

Who knows. Maybe they’ll be target number one. Maybe they’ll be the enemy everyone is out to get, the big bad careers from Districts One and Two, who spent the last night of their lives together, drunk on wine and tortilla chips.

Somehow, though, it didn’t feel like they were really the villain at hand anymore.

As they slowly descend the staircase they realize they will be alone in the apartment, considering that their little display on stage resulted in the mentors being sent back to their home districts– or at least out of contact with their tributes. Years ago they dreamed of the privacy of the District Two apartment that they would have as mentors. Now, however, even though they are alone, they feel haunted by ghosts of a future they do not have.

“One last night?” Clove asks, leaning her head against his shoulder, wrapping her arm around his back to pull herself as close as she could manage.

It all came down to tomorrow, now.

Everything. Ten years of partnership and training. Five years of varying degrees of flirtation and attraction. Three years of dating, two years doing so in public. Three months of private, confidential marriage.

Everything comes down to a final eight hours outside the arena, and a ticking time bomb within.

“One last night.” Cato acquiesced, before slipping one arm under her knees. The other held the small of her back, as he scooped her into his arms bridal style to carry her into the depths of the District Two Apartment. “One last night.”

In the end, neither of them sleep. Instead they are wrapped around each other in silence, watching the sun rise slowly but surely over the horizon.

Morning comes and they are abruptly separated by stylists accompanied by peacekeepers, who do not give them the luxury of a private goodbye.

There is a quick kiss and a slightly longer squeeze of the hand before she is dragged out and away from him.

There is no long declaration of love or endless devotion, no promises to return home to each other to be had.

“I’ll see you in the arena.” She calls out, desperately. The words I love you are left unsaid, but understood.

Even in the end, some things are left only for them.

#always remember we're burned for better tag #arwbfb tag #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games fanfic #clato #clato fanfic #cato and clove #clove kentwell #cato hadley #the careers #thg careers #glimmer belcourt #marvel sanford #johanna mason #this is my pride and joy tbh

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kiwikiwiandkiwi · 2 years ago

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"#and honestly i don't think this stunt will ever end" my exact sentiment. I realized this when the kid turned two and I stopped caring. I accepted we are going to deal with "dad" Louis forever and moved on. I've decided I will be here for his and Harry's music and career and I will just ignore everything about their personal life. I don't care. And now 5 years later I'm glad I did. It's much better than holding onto hope only to have it crushed every single time. I would probably even go and see the doc if it was showing in my country but it's not lol

I just know this stunt is never going to end but I haven’t really processed this information because every time that this subject is brought up I still get sad/mad/tired.

It’s just that there were so many ways they could’ve ended this over the last seven years and yet… We still have the DNA test to maybe one day prove he was never his kid, but if Louis were ever to take it, this kid would still be a thing imo, because you don’t just raise someone as your son for seven years and then one night you find out you’re not actually related to the kid and you’re like “well, it was a good ride but now we part ways” I mean what kind of person would you be if the only reason that made you raise this child was because you thought you two were related?? and also if that’s all it took for you not having to deal with the kid anymore, then why did it take you SEVEN years to take a DNA test??? Idk, there’s so much we don’t know and will never know, but this is a messed up situation and I don’t see it ever ending. There’s no way out except the truth and I doubt we will ever get that.

And yet, I’m still here. I’m too stubborn to leave, and whether I like it or not, I have spent the last years of my life following every second of Louis (and Harry’s) every day life (literally), and not just because I want to or because it’s fun (spoiler alert: it’s not always fun) but because I care so much about them, like SO MUCH (I don’t need to explain to you this, it’s tumblr, we all get it). So I’ll always take the good with the bad (for now).

What really frustrates me though is that every time a stunt happens, we (larries) get to be the punch bag and everyone and their mother start calling us crazy or psychos, and that really pisses me off, because I don’t even think the problem is that this is just an absurd theory/idea (believe me, I know it is!!!!!) the problem is that if you think Louis and Harry are together, and god forbid, think that Louis is not a dad, people will call us “delusional teenagers” or if you are older, you’re just a jobless woman who is probably lonely, cause this has always been the culture when it comes to boybands (and fandom culture in general) and was the culture 1dhq, and eventually lthq and hshq, always encouraged. so we are not taken seriously, we are called hysterical and we are narrowed down to some stereotype that it’s probably not even true (and if it is then SO WHAT??).

I know it’s probably not easy to navigate an artist’s image when not only he’s gay, but he also has years and years of “proofs” that he’s dated several women, had a kid, made some homophobic comments, etc and is also currently dating one of the most famous person in the world right now (who is also in the closet and also has years of doing the same thing). And I’m sure as hell it doesn’t help when we keep pushing the buttons and saying no he’s not a dad, yes he’s gay, when you have his team always doing the opposite: “he has a new girlfriend” “the kid is in his doc”. But it’s awful because that’s they way it’s been since the beginning, all due to the fact that Louis and Harry are gay. It all comes down to this one fact. There’s just no way out.

(And just to make myself clear, I don’t think this is Louis’ fault, I don’t think he wants this, I honestly believe he only has so many choices he can make and he does the best he can with it, but I wonder what’s the point, is this all worth it? lmao I do truly hope he has made peace with himself and with this situation (and Harry too tbh) because if it’s hard on us, I can only imagine how hard it is for them and their families. As I always say, I can always leave this fandom and leave this bullshit behind me but they can’t. So yeah…)

#i have so much more to say but i don’t know how to put it into words #asks #babygate

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schneesisterss · 4 years ago

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Do you have any head cannons for the other Dimitrescu sisters? I loved your takes on Cassandra!

thank you! <3 and Of Course I have headcannons for the other two. (though not as extensive as the ones I have for Cassandra bc you know... brain rot) BUT HERE:

Daniela:

ADD/ADHD representation

stims include, but not limited to: jumping, hard blinking, leg bouncing, word/phrase/noise repetition, and fidgeting with her clothing

and i’m also CONVINCED she gets the zoomies at random times of the day

Alcina, hearing loud and fast footsteps up and down her hallway at 3am: *sigh* “Daniela! Take it outside!”

followed by a loud THUMP and painful groan (she definitely ran into a wall)

hates loud noises but simultaneously has no volume control

especially when she gets excited

Cassandra has to constantly remind her to lower her voice

“AND THEN I TOOK MY KNIFE AND STABBED THE LYCAN IN THE NECK AND IT WAS SO COOL—”

“Dani, i’m standing right here, why are you yelling?”

she loves play-fighting with her sisters

Cassandra is more willing to entertain her than Bela but the both of them like to see their sister happy. so whenever they recognize Daniela getting antsy they’ll wrestle with her a bit

(Cassandra gets way to into it sometimes and makes Bela be the referee lol. Cass always ends up pinning her younger sister with a proud, competitive smile on her face. Bela let’s Dani win, but we don’t tell her that)

has the keenest senses of the three which makes her the best at stalking/killing pray

and since she can hear the best out of all of them, she unintentionally eves drops on conversations

so Daniela, bless her, has all the tea

tactile learner

will just. touch things

“Life hard, Mothers gown soft”

can get trapped in her own head and doesn’t know how to express to her family what’s bothering her

this can make her very reserved at times and she’ll distance herself for days on end

her mother is really the only person who knows how to get her out of that state. Alcina walks up the long flight of stairs to the highest point of her castle. her youngest daughter likes to come here sometimes when she needs the quiet. “Daniela? Are you up here?”

“Hello, Mother.” Alcina looks up to see her daughter lounging on a banister high up on the ceiling.

“What are you doing up there, my love?” Daniela rubs the fabric of her dress between her fingers. “Cassandra and Bela were arguing again. I don’t like when Cassandra yells.”

Alcina shakes her head. Those two were always going at it. She’ll speak to Bela about it later. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.” Daniela then grabs a fist full of her dress and tugs at it, blinking hard. “Come down for a moment. Talk to me, baby.”

and Daniela simply rolls herself off the banister and into free fall. Alcina, already prepared, catches her with ease and holds her bridal style against her chest. Daniela runs her hands over the sleeve of her mother’s dress.

Alcina gave her youngest child time to gather her thoughts, knowing it sometimes takes longer for her to be able to understand them herself. Daniela finally spoke up: “It’s been very loud recently. Around the castle. Small things, like footsteps or glasses clicking, they sound so loud in my head.” She covers her ears with her hands. “Even now I can still hear Cassandras voice through the castle, it’s pushing in my ears. My head hurts, Mother.”

Alcina gave her daughter a quick squeeze before setting her down. “Follow me baby, I want to show you something.” Daniela followed her Mother through the twists and turns of the castle until they ended up at a door that was just like all the others. It blended in and maybe that’s why Daniela has never noticed it before. “In here.” her mother guided.

Inside was a small library and lounge room. A fire place tucked in the corner and, of course, a wall a wine next to it. Daniela looked at her Mother questioningly.

“Listen.” her mother said, and Daniela did. She heard... nothing. Nothing outside of the quiet cracking of the fire place. “This room is sound proofed. Come here whenever you feel overwhelmed.” She leaned down to stroke her daughters head. “Just don’t tell your sisters I showed you my secret getaway room.” and with a wink, the tall woman exited the room and shut the door behind her.

The next day Daniela was at breakfast like nothing had changed. She didn’t even mind when Cassandra yelled at a maiden for breaking a plate, it only made her laugh.

(if you get overstimulated you KNOW what i’m talking about)

personal space? never heard of her.

loves to cling to Belas arm and Bela let’s her bc she thinks it’s just. so cute.

will also sometimes just crawl into her mothers lap and fall asleep. then Alcinas like: “well.. i guess i’m not moving for three hours”

Daniela: “if I run an jump at Cassandra, she’ll most certainly catch me.” *takes off in a full blown sprint*

Cassandra: “NO IM HOLDING HOT TEA—” *drops tea to catch Daniela* *proceeds to cuss her younger sister out, all while Dani is wrapped around her like a koala*

(this happens a lot. Dani will just... climb on Cassandra. piggy back rides, getting on her shoulders, wrapping her hands around her neck from behind and letting her feet drag on the floor, etc. Cassandra complains adamantly but never once moves to get her off)

Cassandra: “hey Dani, I dare you too—”

Bela: “Mother said Daniela isn’t allowed to accept dares anymore.”

Daniela: “apparently I have ‘no regard for my personal safety.’”

it takes a lot for Daniela to get genuinely angry, but when she does, it’s.... bad.

Very Very Scary when mad

turns into a completely different person that you Do NOT want to fuck with

dangerous and violent

much more dark and sadistic as compared to her normal personality

came home one night covered in blood and laughing hysterically. it scared the shit out of her sisters bc if they would try and get close, she’d slash at them with her weapon.

(this was one of the only times Bela had seen Cassandra genuinely worried and afraid for their sister)

when Alcina came to see what was wrong, Daniela, still laughing madly, swung at her too. Cassandra quickly shot out her arm and grabbed Belas elbow to stop her from getting involved. Bela whipped around with a growl but Cassandras glare and squeezing nails told her to back down. Mother can handle it.

Insane Laugh™️

thinks it’s funny to intimidate the maidens by showing her fangs and snapping her jaw

she often likes to find Bela when she’s reading a book to convince her to read to her (Bela almost always complies)

that’s it for Daniela. just a hyperactive baby with a murder streak <3 ONTO THE FINAL SISTER

Bela:

Mama’s (and I cannot stress this enough) Girl

needs constant reassurance that’s she’s doing a good job and yes this reassurance can ONLY come from her mother

INSOMNIAC

this girl never sleeps, pls baby you need some rest

she spends the time she should be sleeping reading books or running errands for her mother (whether Alcina asked her to or not)

she has read almost every single book in their giant library

Cassandra doesn’t understand this at all

“Why are you always cooped up in here?” Bela glanced up over the pages of her book at her younger sister. “This is the library Cassandra. Take a wild guess.” her voice was completely level and had no inflection. Cassandra gritted her teeth, “You think your so much better than me.” Bela sighed and closed her book. She didn’t want to do this again. “No. I don’t.” she said seriously. Cassandra eyed her for a moment then looked away, Bela saw the guilt on her face before she turned on her heal. “You’re so boring.”

because she reads so much, she is incredibly smart and just knows facts about random things

Daniela, daydreaming: “I wonder why grass is green.”

Bela, immediately: “the pigment that most grasses produce, Chlorophyll, absorbs almost all blue and red light and reflects green light which is why we see green. so I mean, technically grass is every single color EXCEPT for green.

Dani, confused as fuck: ....

Cass: “Bitch, how do you even know that?”

Bela’s sisters just end up using her as Google

“Hey Bela, how far away is the moon?” “238,900 miles.”

“Hey Bela, how many different climates are there?” “Twelve”

“Hey Bela, what’s the worlds deadliest poison?” “Botulinum... why?” “No reason.” “Dani. WHY?”

“Hey Bela, how much can I sell a human skull on the black market for?” Bela, concerned: “Cassandra why would—” “HOW MUCH?” “Well... are all the teeth still in tact?” “...No.” “Than only about $500.” “FUCK.”

“Hey Bela, I have this weird rash on my back and—” “Daniela. Do not finish that sentence. Go ask Mother.”

she is so quiet

and not just because she doesn’t talk very loud or even much at all. she’s just So. Silent. when she moves

just pops up in random places without anyone hearing her approach

even Daniela can’t hear her coming, which is saying something

Cassandra, minding her own business, drinking blood tea: .....

Bela, suddenly right next to her: “Hey I was wondering if— stop screaming, it’s me— have you seen Mothers lipstick? It’s missing.”

refuses any type of help with anything or else she feels like she failed that task

Never asks for help, Never asks for favors, and Never Ever will burden her Mother with any of her problems. Ever.

(Alcina thinks this is ridiculous. her eldest daughter pushes herself too hard.)

Anxiety™️

sometimes when her anxiety becomes too much she shuts down and becomes very indifferent to things around her. this has caused many fights between herself and Cassandra because Cass will get really fired up when all Bela does is respond with a monotone voice and blank stare.

overthinks literally everything and is a perfectionist

this makes her prone to panic attacks :(

when this happens she shuts herself in her room, not wanting to bother her Mother or sisters

Bela closes her bedroom door behind her and stumbles to her knees. she can’t seem to get air into her lungs no matter how hard she tried. she had failed. Mother asked her to bring her the head of that stupid man-thing, but somehow he knew their weakness.

how could he know? are Cassandra and Daniela ok? where are they? where is Mother?

Belas breathing was shallow and short, her chest burns as she presses her forehead into the ground. She claws the skin of her chest raw, leaving angry, red marks behind, desperately trying to open her lungs.

she stays as quiet as she can, only gasping few and far between. she will not be a burden. she should deal with the consequences of her failure. alone.

a sudden knock on her door makes her scramble backwards on her bottom till her back hits the opposite wall. then Belas worst nightmare, her Mothers voice.

“Bela?! Bela, is that you?” Alcinas words were rushes and worried. the door handle jiggled. “Bela, baby the door is locked, please let me in.” Bela covered her mouth and cried silently while her Mother begged to be let in.

the sound of snapping wood had Belas eyes flying open, her Mother had broken down the door. Bela shrunk into herself. She’s going to be so mad. I’m a failure. the ringing in her ears became so intense she couldn’t hear anything else.

large, soft hands cup her cheeks and a muffled voice through the air: “Bela, my love, you’re alright thank god. Are you hurt anywhere? Let me see.”

Bela pushed weakly at her Mothers arms and said between sobs, “I-I’m sorry, M-Mother.”

Alcina looked at her eldest daughter with confusion, she had no physical wounds, but the look on her face was heartbreaking. “What are you sorry for, my love?” this only made Belas breathing spend up even more, her face red from the lack of oxygen. Alcina quickly pulled her in close.

“Now Bela, listen to the sound of my voice,” she said it gently but just hard enough to grab her daughters attention. “I need you to copy my breath. Do it now, love, listen to me. Do what i’m telling you to.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths and noticed that instantly after her command, Bela had tried to follow, but the smaller girls breath was still choppy and small. Alcina rubbed a thumb across Belas cheek. “You’re doing so well baby. Keep going just like that. Good girl.” a smaller hand was placed on her arm and grabbed at her sleeve. “Good baby, use me to ground yourself. Keep breathing now, you’re doing so good.” Alcina kept whispering soft encouragements and praises until her daughters breathing was back to normal and she was laying limp on her chest.

Alcina moved the hair away from Belas face. “What a good girl, you did so well.” Bela squeezed her eyes shut and pushed into her Mother until her face was hidden. “I’m sorry Mother.” came a muffled apology, though her voice was much more steadier than before. “I failed you, I couldn’t stop the man-thing. He shot at the windows! He knows our weakness, Mother. What are we going to do? Where’s Daniela and Cassandra, are they ok? I should have stopped him for you I’m so sorry I—”

“Quiet.” Bela immediately seals her lips and looks away, already extracting herself from her Mother’s arms. She probably hates her. Alcina simple tugs her back and forces Bela to look in her eyes with a quick tap to the forehead. “Bela, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” Her daughters eyes go wide and she nods. “You have nothing to apologize for. This is not you’re fault and I will not allow you to think that way. Plus, the man-thing won’t bother us any longer, I took care of it.”

“But—” Alcina raises an eyebrow and Bela gives in, nodding hesitantly. “Good girl.” Bela exhales through her nose at the phrase and squeezes her Mother’s sleeve again. They sit like that for a few more moments, calming down.

Bela suddenly shoots up. “Daniela, Cassandra, are they—” “They’re fine my dear, Daniela got a little banged up, but Cassandra was already patching her up before I could even get close. We didn’t know where you were, that’s why I was so worried.” Bela relaxed and again nuzzled her nose into her Mother’s chest, took one more deep breath, then stood. “I’m going to go check on them.”

She steps through the now empty door frame and pauses. She spoke without turning around: “I won’t fail you again, Mother.” and shifts into a cloud of flies and disappears.

(am I projecting again? idk help)

can play the piano

no like you don’t understand, she is so good at piano

this girl has mastered songs by composers like Liszt, Beethoven, and Ravel

she’ll play for hours on end, if she starts a new piece she Will Not get up until she can play it through perfectly

she pretends not to notice Cassandra secretly listening to her play, hidden behind a nearby bookshelf

while her younger sisters always jump head first into a fight, Bela takes a more calculating approach. learning her enemies movements from afar before advancing and ending it in like 3 quick moves.

“Well Bela, if Mother asked you to jump off a bridge, would you?”

Bela, already climbing over the railing: “Hm?”

and there you go for Bela! my sweet child.. please learn self-care.

*ahem* I went overboard again didn’t I? WELP. I regret nothing. Give me more headcannons.

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metvmorqhoses · 3 years ago

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So, you’re saying Delphini was most likely an accident. Do you really think it’s in Voldemort’s best interest to allow her to be born, in a time of war no less? What is your take on that whole situation.

Well, this is really the million-dollar question. I can only tell you about the one way I see it plausibly playing out without incurring in the ridiculous, as many times happens with this particular matter.

Naturally, when first presented with the fact of Delphini’s mere existence, every normal person would think the situation thoroughly insane and absolutely implausible story-wise.

Just considering the pragmatic military aspect of the problem, why would Voldemort allow his general a pregnancy during the decisive war of a lifetime?

Sounds like pure madness even to amateurs.

Allowing Bellatrix to have a child in that precarious situation, moreover fathering it no less, meant fabricating countless and unpredictable vulnerabilities in the one place where previously were absolutely none.

Voldemort spent his entire life carefully tailoring for himself a superhuman facade - and with astonishing success, may I add. The totality of his enemies wholeheartedly believed in it and were terrorized by his mask of pure darkness (perhaps aside Dumbledore, but he had as well a very approximate understanding of Voldemort’s humanity). Not a single member of the resistance would have thought of searching for such a human weakness in him, a weakness he also coincidentally shared with his literal right-hand woman.

Having a child didn’t only mean creating a huge whole in Bellatrix’s armor, but creating to some degree a matching one for himself too. Strategically, this means that the two people fundamental to the cause’s success (and plain existence probably) could both potentially be stricken with one single blow. No mastermind would have ever allowed for such a thing to potentially happen, and in such crucial times, no less.

And as much as I’d like to state that Voldemort counted on the fact that Dumbledore (and later his surviving brainwashed minions) would have never used children for such terrible ends... you know. No need to continue I guess, this sentence is already hysterical as it is.

Even leaving aside the martial aspect of the problem (already beyond damning as far as I am concerned), not only a pregnancy falls heavily on the health of every woman, but Bellatrix was specifically still recovering from a 14 years physical and psychological ordeal. At this point in time the people Voldemort could really count on were seriously numbered, and Bellatrix was without a doubt the most prominent of them. He couldn’t afford to spare her anything, couldn’t afford to have her ill, risking her life or potentially distraught if something were to happen to the baby.

Bellatrix had been since childhood a very emotionally tempestuous person, Voldemort knew this far better than anyone. Azkaban and such sufferings could had only accentuated it for the worse. Was she, no matter how extraordinary and competent, just escaped from hell, sick and frail and navigating war and chaos, in the right psycho-physical state for a pregnancy? Of course not.

And last but not least, there is also the most intimate aspect of the matter, the fact that Voldemort himself would have never, ever, even contemplated the thought of actively seeking a child of his own.

Children are the bittersweet form of immortality of normal people. Children both symbolize the continuation of their parents’ lives and their very eventual death. Having a child means bowing your head to the possibility of a life renewing and going on without you, it means being somehow complicit of it. Voldemort wasn’t psychologically ready to even contemplate such a thing, he couldn’t be. His whole character and every choice revolve around this very crucial point. Life destroyed him in tender age and he put himself back together again trying to leave out the cursed thing that had annihilated him in the first place - his heart, his ability to feel. He wasn’t emotionally strong enough to bear even much, much less than a child. Feelings always menaced to undo him all over again. He would have abhorred the mere thought of it, surely having the hardest time even processing the notion - a notion I’m not sure he ever really made peace with, not even afterwards.

In order to survive, Voldemort had always more or less forced himself into believing in his own superhuman persona. He considered himself an immortal being who aspired to be emotionless and self-sufficient for eternity - but deep down he knew this wasn’t quite the truth and he was constantly at war with himself. As we all very well know, he had deep problems with his humanity and the one of others. He’d never really understood normal human relationships, understanding them would have meant psychological disintegration. He buried under double layers of frost his (I believe pretty deep) emotional capabilities to the point of being physically pained by important feelings. All his life he had been telling himself he could avoid them altogether and still function. Ideals of power and darkness don’t have children, perfection doesn’t require anything to complete itself. He found humanity disgusting not so much because he was posing as godly, but because everything in humanity foreshadows death, even drinking or eating - even sex (act that he only found to need, probably despite himself, when Bella was concerned). And there is literally nothing more human, more mortal than a pregnancy.

To this I feel forced to add that, as every true narcissist who both loves and loathes himself to extreme points, he would have never dreamed of passing on the disease of his own being, especially not through someone so important to him. Just as he would have never made Bella a horcrux, he would have never consciously agreed to put a child of his in her. I don’t know if wizards could actually choose the sex of their babies, but I firmly believe the thought of ending up with a third Tom Riddle bearing the same cursed face would have already been enough to make him lose his mind, even before the child’s birth.

All these are beyond valid points that I myself firmly believe in. Voldemort would have never actively wanted a child. I absolutely agree. I absolutely get the confusion and the controversy around it. What I really don’t understand is why people’s conclusion is always so complicated. “It didn’t happen”, ”This is just rubbish”, ”It’s canon but not for me”, “He wanted a heir and performed a dark ritual to make Bellatrix pregnant but avoiding touching her”, ”Bella drugged him”, “He drugged Bella”, etc...

Such complicated, absurd minds in this fandom. The logical solution is so simple, actually the simplest one regarding this or any character in existence.

Voldemort would have never chosen to have a child - and in fact he simply... didn’t? lol

As simple as that, really.

In real life the number of accidental children highly exceeds that of “programmed” ones, and since the dawn of times. This is one of the most plausible solutions in the entire HP saga, I’m actually astonished no one ever considers it. What’s so impossible to believe about it? That they kept the baby?

If this is the issue and we are imagining Voldemort finding out in a rage, maybe tricked by a greedy and concubine-like Bella desperate to hide her condition, going about Malfoy Manor firing killing curses left and right or interrupting the pregnancy himself with bare hands (because he is so evil right? What’s a little abortion in the face of mass murder?), then we are failing, once again, to understand his character, his motives and his way of navigating life.

I actually think that allowing Delphini to be born was in Voldemort's best interest in that particular predicament. It was crisis management at its finest, really.

What could have he actually done?

Plausibly speaking, what could he really do? Force Bella to interrupt the pregnancy? Order it? Do it himself against her will?

Let’s just think about the actual situation for a moment.

Voldemort is literally fighting for his life in the crucial war of the century. He had been working to reach this moment since tender age. He had overcome poverty, desolation, abuse, loneliness, discrimination, heartbreak, and alone, only thanks to his intelligence and magical talent, sacrificing his own soul in the process, only to be almost eradicated from the face of the earth by some random fate-kissed infant, who once again is now trying to end him with the help of one of the most powerful wizards who ever lived. He went from almost-death and back. He had to create for himself a new body. He came back from a worst-than-hell semi-existence only to find his followers scattered and disloyal - all but literally a handful, of which Bellatrix is the still captive crown jewel. She endured a passion not dissimilar of his own agony for him, only not to renounce him in his almost certain demise. He works to free her and the other most loyal that he knows had followed her. They are reunited in what feels like another life. He promises he sees her sufferings, he promises her rewards beyond her wildest dreams. He publicly shows she is his closest. He has his general back. He has his movement back. He had known her since she was a child. He had spent half of a lifetime honing her character and exceptional talent, making her his star pupil, the breathing symbol of his cause and hopes. He has always liked her. He has only ever liked her. She is the closest he had ever been to another human being. They grow closer still. He allows himself and her things he had never allowed anyone else. He doesn’t really know why. Maybe the half-existence, maybe the new body. Maybe seeing the way she looks at him, once again. It doesn’t really matter because Bella is probably the only one he could really trust, if only he could trust anyone. He has a war to win, death to duel and conquer. And then, despite the best measures, she is with child.

So in these people’s minds, Voldemort would have allowed everything that he had just conquered back and ever cared about - and while fighting a war against his very nemesis - to be put in jeopardy because of an error he actively committed?

If the points we made at the beginning of this analysis were already very valid against the possibility of the choice of a pregnancy, as far as any intelligent person is concerned (Voldemort included) they are even more crucial now that the pregnancy has actually already occurred.

They were at war. Bellatrix was, besides himself, the pillar of the cause. To her, he was everything. Not only as a man, but as a mentor, as an ideal. He allowed her to be that close. I don’t know how and why, but she fell pregnant. Are magical contraceptives a thing? Were they using them? Did they fail because more potent, involuntary magic was involved? I cannot know, but either way it’s not like Voldemort was not to blame or extraneous to the situation. Albeit involuntarily, he did this. Perhaps he was even more to blame, since between the two of them he was the great detached, all-powerful god-like wizard and so on - not to mention the “adult” of the situation (he is most of the times the “adult”, the “logical mind” in their dynamic, while Bella is capricious and pure wild passion). He should have been capable of restraining himself or make a simple contraceptive spell work, right? lol

Poor Vold, I am teasing him, but I think it’s a valid point and, above all, very in character for him to make it himself. If this situation existed, it’s because there was “weakness” on his part, at least in his mind.

Voldemort is not an unfair person. Also he has always stricken me as merciless with himself and his own “errors” even more than he is with others’. That is not to say that he isn’t especially always fair to himself first or that his values are not very fucked up, because they are, but he could have never charmed so many people and gained so much following without actually being a capable leader and reasonably “just”. He was fond of weaponizing logic and sometimes his own logic put him in a corner.

He wasn’t followed by worms, but by the literal Wizarding aristocracy. Vain, proud, pompous people. He couldn’t have just been a tyrant left and right, treating everyone like shit and have such people so adoring and wrapped around his finger. He was seductive, he was reasonable, helping, knowledgeable, he maintained a strict “ethical” code that always seamed to involve himself as well. Even while punishing people, he was doing it for their and the future’s sake. He had careful power balances to maintain, dangerous people to lead.

What I mean is, yes he had pretty much power of life and death over his followers, but especially with the closest ones, with his inner circle, his actions had to be justified. He really couldn’t just have showed up to Lucius and make Narcissa lose her baby because he felt like it. I mean, he could have, but he would have also seen his movement falling apart pretty rapidly - and especially since the said movement was built around pure-blood traditions, family and children.

Bellatrix moreover was a very special case in herself. A person like Bellatrix would have never put such faith and adoration in someone blindly, just for starters. Voldemort had deserved it and for pretty much the duration of her entire life. A capricious, unjust tyrant couldn’t have maintained such respect for that long. It was surely justified. Had she idealized him? Surely. As any child idealizes an adored teacher and as any passionate woman idealizes the embodiment of her dreams. But somehow she was also the only one who actually knew the real him, the only one who loved the person and not the mask. She knew him, she saw him. I don’t think Voldemort could have allowed himself to lose that. I don’t think Voldemort didn’t consider Bellatrix her own person. He actually helped her become her own powerful self. She owed him all the things she loved about herself. Making such a decision for her, forcing it upon her, would have meant dehumanizing her and losing in earnest the respect and adoration of so many years.

Most people hate their relationship because they don’t get it. They think Voldemort believed himself a god and considered Bellatrix some sort of sub-human adoring dog, but this couldn’t be farthest from the truth. Bellatrix’s pride was Voldemort’s pride. The moment she failed, he failed. She is a work of art he had been working on for more than 30 years. She was also, again, the head of his cause. Losing her, losing her loyalty, support, admiration, would have easily meant losing that of everyone that counted and, yes, in such a delicate situation. But I think he didn’t even arrived to actually consider seriously the disintegration of his forces if he violently decided to violate her will and body in such a way. I think he just couldn’t bring himself treat her like that.

The thought of a child of his was intolerable to him, yes, and I’m sure he raged and I’m sure they fought like lions about it, I’m sure he menaced things and she menaced things, but ultimately I don’t really see Voldemort making such a decision against her will, taking her power and agency away from her, treating her as less than a human being and destroying the only real relationship of his life along with the prominent instrument of his war, his finely honed weapon, the one person he could literally trust, because of something he was complicit of.

This is also the reason why Bella got to be that close to him and live to tell the tale. He soon realized the thought of killing her was intolerable to him, even if maybe he considered it the sane thing to do sometimes. And so the only reasonable thing was allowing her to be close. Forcing her to terminate her pregnancy against her will would have been just another way of killing her, albeit not physical. He would have never allowed himself such a thing.

For the war (and for him), forcing Bella not to have Delphi would have meant utter disaster. Therefore, suddenly the thought of having a child during a war wasn’t that mad as the possibility of losing Bella in the same situation. They could have hidden the pregnancy. He was powerful enough to magically make it happen. Bella could be spared the most dangerous missions (she was absent at Dumbledore’s assassination), after all she was already recovering from Azkaban. Maybe the incentive of the pregnancy could have made her look after her own health better. Forcing her to endure the trauma of interrupting it without her consent would have also destroyed her delicate mental health (and her life) once and for all.

As you can see, Voldemort’s choice of allowing Delphi to be born was actually the pragmatic thing to do, after the unfortunate fact and in those circumstances.

And yes, I firmly believe Bella fought for Delphi’s existence. It wouldn’t have been in character for her to just have an abortion and been done with it. And I’m not saying it because I think she plotted the whole thing behind Voldemort’s back, or because I think she had secretly suppressed motherly instincts - I actually believe she never had any, at all, all her life -, but because again, what could have she done?

She had inside of herself half of the man she loved that much, the embodiment of her hopes and dreams, her mentor, her god. How could she have allowed him or anyone to end it? This was something beyond her wildest dreams, but now it was reality. A miracle was inside of her - him, her, together in one being.

For all of Voldemort’s might, for all of his magic, he was fighting Bella’s unwavering love and devotion for him, he was fighting the same feral, determinate courage she would have showed to protect any other piece of him - and so, before that, he was powerless.

How did Bella managed to keep Delphi and live to tell the tale? We have already talked about the logicality of it, Voldemort knew he would have never killed or armed her and he had realized it long before Delphi was even conceived, but Bella probably thought she was risking her life to protect her and did it anyway. She surely feared Voldemort and wisely so. She probably even voiced the famous “if you want to end it, you’ll have to end me too” and have him lose his mind over it.

But I also think she was smart about the situation, as always, and ultimately pulled the “rewarded beyond your wildest dreams” card. How did Voldemort reward her for her loyalty and ordeal in canon, besides telling her she was his closest (as she had always been, by the way)? We never see him doing anything grand about it. I think this was the reward, not in the sense Bella wanted a baby and he gifted one to her as many like to interpret, but in the plausible “I am your most loyal, I am your closest and I am asking you this one big thing, this is the thing I want”. I totally can see her using that bonus against him in this situation, having his own promises backfiring at him. It’s very like Bella, it fits and would also explain the strange references she was making at Spinner’s End, when she hinted at their recent... problems? She wasn’t kept at a distance because of the recent prophecy fiasco, situation in which Voldemort had actually saved her life, I think it was actually a “he’s not talking to me anymore because I forced him to accept the worst thing I could ever have asked him to accept”.

I’m sure Voldemort was raging about it, distraught, hurting, psychotic, all the terrible states you can fathom are appropriate, and understandably so. Perhaps he calmed himself when Delphi was born looking like Bella and not like his father, but surely he alternated fondness, apathy and refusal regarding her and it’s pretty normal, considering who he is. I would have really loved to be able to see their relationship developing throughout the years. But of this I’m certain, any problem he had towards his child were voids and demons he had first and foremost in and against himself. I actually like to think he would have tried to be a good father for Delphi, a father she could be proud of, especially to be as much unlike his own father as humanly possible. He had always been in some way a “father-figure” to Bella as well, and a great one that is. He would have tried to do even better with Delphi, I’m sure.

All this said, I’m actually very fond of the mere notion of Delphini, even more so because of Voldemort’s and Bella’s endings.

Even while being afraid and hating the mere idea of her existence, even while fearing her as a symbol of humanity and death, Delphi actually was somehow Voldemort’s immortality, his continuation, a life beyond his own he had never considered could exist nor could had he understood. She lived on and a part of him lived on with her, as any normal human being lives on in his child. And Bella, with her stubbornness, with her passion, managed to give him that too. I can’t help but find it beautiful.

#bellamort #i'm telling you already #i need a raise #lord voldemort #tom marvolo riddle #bellatrix black #bellatrix lestrange #delphini riddle #delphini diggory #hp #asks/replies #one and one thousand stories lis told

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therealvinelle · 3 years ago

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What do you think the Cullens would do if some person they were talking to, out of nowhere just quite literally exploded in front of, and on them? Kinda like in that movie Spontaneous. Would they lose control and slurp up the mess on the ground, (and themselves) or would their bloodlust be curtailed by shock of wtf just happened?

I'd say something witty about how this is a strange anon to receive, but holy jesus you've sent me down a rabbithole.

Here's a trailer to the movie Spontaneous. It looks amazing. Kevin Feige wishes this had been his plot for Infinity War.

Here's a trailer for the movie Spontaneous Combustion, which I found by accident while searching for your fic. This looks amazing too. Can't believe Marvel didn't buy the rights to this guy.

I'm serious, people, you definitely want to watch these trailers. I just about died laughing.

So, on to your ask.

In the spirit of your ask, which implies a level of randomness, I thought the people blowing up should be random too. So, being in the mood to procrastinate through spending way too much time on tumblr things, I wrote a program that'll generate for me random Twilight characters.

Unsure whether the explosion should kill vampires or not, I generated an answer. The answer is yes, any generated vampire dies.

Without further ado:

Alice watches Vladimir blow up.

Alright, alright.

The first question to be answered here is why Alice is in Vladimir's presence in the first time. In canon they only meet once, at the end of Breaking Dawn.

For the sake of simplicity, we'll have Vladimir blow up then.

The Cullens and the witnesses are all celebrating being alive, when Vladimir suddenly explodes.

For the sake of the ask, Alice is sitting closest to him when this happens and making conversation.

Her first thought is utter shock. Not just that he blew up, but that she didn't see it coming (she wouldn't, because I randomly generated him. No decision was made). Her second thought is horror.

The Cullens just confronted the Volturi, now mere hours afterwards their allies are blowing up.

Holy fuck, Aro has a gifted ace up his sleeve, and he's using it to kill them remotely.

Panic ensues, not just for Alice, but among all the witnesses. Some of them refuse to leave, Bella has to shield those 24/7, though given the belief that her gift is psychic that doesn't make them feel very safe.

The others decide to go after the Volturi and beg for mercy, assuring them they never meant to challenge them.

Aro, of course, is very confused, but agrees. Why, yes, he does have a vampire who blows people up. Yes, yes he does.

Bella watches Aro blow up.

Oh I'm dying laughing at this one. And wishing I'd put this down for Carlisle, that would be even funnier, but alright.

Bella is walking about post-Breaking Dawn, minding her own business, when suddenly Aro appears in front of her. He looks around himself, utterly surprised by his sudden deplacement, and then blows up.

Bella has been living in terror of this man for years.

In Volterra he had his servant torture her and Edward and then made ominious threats, then a few months later the Eclipse disaster unfolded, finally we have Breaking Dawn where he showed up to murder her and everyone she loved.

Her shield may be powerful, but for as long as Aro was alive her family was never truly safe.

His untimely implosion changes all of that.

I imagine after a long moment of incredulity, Bella burns the rubble, just to be sure, then tells her family the joyous news.

Carlisle gives the guy a funeral. It's weird.

Carlisle watches Vassilii blow up.

Close call, due to my not switching out the names we almost had Angela. In which case Carlisle have stood there, covered in blood and in shock for several long seconds, before bringing out the bleach and gasoline for a crime scene clean.

As it is, Carlisle is minding his own business when suddenly an immortal child dressed like a medieval Eastern European appears before him. It says something in a foreign language that might mean "hi", he doesn't know but he says "hi" to it back, then the child blows up.

Carlisle stares at the rubble for a very long time, wondering if he is perhaps losing his mind. If, perhaps, Aro was right about animal blood being a slow suicide, and Carlisle has finally hit the limit for how long a vampire can go on without human blood.

He burns the rubble and prays for the child's soul, as an immortal child is doomed anyway, and keeps his silence about what happened. In part because there's a solid chance this was all in his imagination.

If Aro ever touches his hand again, and sees the immortal child that he burned a thousand years earlier resurrect, travel through time, all in order to blow up in front of Carlisle, he... well there comes a point where you say "nothing to see here" and refuse eye contact with the universe glitching.

Edward watches Randall blow up.

Randall, for the ignorants, is one of Carlisle's friends that came to witness for the Cullens in Breaking Dawn.

Suddenly he appears in front of Edward, says hi and how do you do, and then he blows up.

Edward tells Carlisle, who is saddened by this, and they try to piece the guy together. They fail.

Edward sends a somber thought to this noble man who agreed with Edward that the Cullens are awesome enough to be worth dying for.

Emmett watches Mary blow up.

Emmett will never admit it, but it's the coolest, raddest thing he's ever seen.

Esme watches Eleazar blow up.

Oh boy.

The Cullens are visiting the Denali. Irina has not been dead for long, but given the crystal clear memory of vampires, and the loss they already suffered (Sasha's death traumatized them) it doesn't really matter how long it's been, the Denali are devastated anyway.

The whole coven is as fragile as it can possibly get.

Then, Eleazar goes to join Esme in the kitchen, and explodes all over her and the kitchen.

The remaining Denali and the Cullens are called to the kitchen by the sound of Esme's screaming, and find her in hysterics, surrounded by gray rubble.

The Denali are near catatonic with grief at this point, while cooking has been ruined for Esme. One moment you're making food, the next people are exploding all over your kitchen.

Yeah.

Esme is not okay.

Jasper watches Nahuel blow up.

It's a shameful moment in his life.

But, hybrids are edible.

And that blood was splattered all over him.

Jasper has the worst control fail of his life, worse even than when he failed with Bella because this fail means he can't be around Renesmée anymore.

It's miserable all around.

The one highlight here is that it didn't happen when they were headed to the Volturi trial together.

Rosalie watches Emmett blow up.

Jesus christ, random Twilight character generator, just when I thought you were just going to give me boring results.

Not only does Rosalie lose the love of her life, the guy who kept her together, the one good thing she had going for her who made her life worth living, but he did so right in front of her, blowing up out of nowhere.

There's no explanation to be had, no culprit to be found, no reason for it. She had no goodbye, just as she can have no revenge.

She will never have closure.

Renesmée watches Renée blow up.

We go out on a high note, my god. Well done, generator, I'm laughing.

Renesmée is curious enough about her grandmother to go to Florida. She was going to watch from afar, but finds herself talking to the woman who raised her mother.

It's all going well until Renée suddenly explodes all over Renesmée.

Renesmée's first thought is nothing, she's in shock.

Then...

Well, she was controlled as an infant, so I don't think an adult Renesmée would lose it unless under extreme circumstances, like if she encountered a singer.

More, though, Renesmée might have any reasons of her own not to drink human blood, but she has been raised with this being a big no-no.

So she shouldn't.

However...

Is she ever going to get a better chance?

Ethically, she could easily argue this is the right choice. No one will be negatively affected by this, at least not directly.

The human is right there, already dead, and there's no body so while Renesmée does have to clean up the gore. Hell, if she laps up the blood on her clothes and the ground she will be cleaning up. Why waste perfectly good blood?

If Renesmée Cullen is ever going to have human blood, this is it.

It will come down to how much she respects her grandfather, and how important she believes Renée was to Bella.

Bonus, because I'm having way too much fun with this:

Bree watches Atheonodora blow up.

Bree is minding her own business when suddenly a vampire unlike any she has ever seen before, one with hazy eyes and odd skin, appears before her. They stare at each other. Then the woman blows up.

Bree takes this to mean that exploding is apparently something vampires just do sometimes, runs off in a panic and, sobbing, tells Riley.

Riley, having no idea what to make of any of this, tells her it was those evil yellow-eyes with their witchcraft and sorcery.

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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years ago

Text

Objects in Mirror are Closer than they Appear

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Oneshot

Aelin will be the first to admit that parallel parking is not her forte.

Written for Rowaelin Month 2021. Day 5: “I accidentally hit you with my car.” @rowaelinscourt

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Warnings: Language

1558 words

*******

“It’s not gonna fit.”

“It’ll fit.”

“It’s not going to fit.” Aelin insisted.

“I assure you,” Rowan encouraged, “It will fit”

“Look at the size of this thing and the size of that opening, it’s not going to fit, Rowan.”

“Aelin, I promise you. It will fit. We’ll just take it slow.”

“I swear to gods, Buzzard. I’m telling you; I will not be able to parallel park this car into that space, there’s not enough room.”

A line of cars was slowly building behind Aelin as she sat with her blinkers on while Rowan tried coaxing her into parking the car. The jeep behind them honked again and Aelin flipped them off through the rearview mirror as Rowan sighed and tried not to make eye contact as the driver sped around them. The rest quickly followed suit.

Aelin sighed and looked over at her exasperated boyfriend. “Rowan, you know that I am amazing at many things,” she carried on as he watched her, amused, “but I am woman enough to admit that I can’t parallel park for shit.”

Rowan snorted, but Aelin kept talking, “You love me and that means accepting my single, unimprovable, flaw.”

He sighed and looked at the street again, glad there weren’t more cars stuck behind them. Chuckling, he faced Aelin who was staring determinately out the front windshield.

“Aelin, you live in the city. You need to know how to parallel park.” He shook his head good-naturedly, “How you’ve survived this long without being able to do so is something I can’t understand.”

She rolled her eyes before facing him and over-exaggerated batting her eyelashes while suggesting, “We can switch places and you can park for me.”

He laughed, “No, Aelin, you need to learn this.”

Smirking, Aelin said, “But you look so good behind the wheel. And you know how much I love it when you do that thing when you reverse and put your arm behind my headrest to turn around. It's sexy.”

Rowan’s smirk widened. “I know.” Then he nudged her shoulder and said, “Come on, I’ll even get out and help direct you into the spot, okay?”

She sighed dramatically, “Oh, fine, Buzzard. Have it your way, teach me a valuable life skill.”

He chuckled again and leaned over to kiss her forehead before ducking out of the car and onto the boulevard next to them.

Aelin rolled the window down to better hear his instructions.

“Okay, pull up so you’re next to this car. Yeah, just like that. Stop. Now back up and turn your wheel all the way to the side.”

Aelin did her best to hide her smirk as she watched him, paying more attention to Rowan than the cars around her. He’d put on his instructor-voice and she was loving that way he kept giving out orders.

“Stop. Stop, Fireheart!” Rowan’s voice rose as she jerked to a stop.

“What?”

He stepped off the curb and leaned his elbows on the passenger door’s window ledge, bending over to look into the car and say, “You’re still a few feet away from the curb. Let’s pull forward and try again.”

“'Let's' he says,” she grumbled, not missing the way he huffed a laugh, “as if we’re both driving.”

“Come on, Aelin,” he called, “you can do this.”

Exhaling a deep breath, Aelin pulled forward once more and glanced around to make sure the street was void of any other moving cars.

“Good, now reverse. Okay, stop, now turn the wheel. No, keep going there’s plenty of room.”

“There isn’t enough room, Buzzard!”

“Aelin, no, don’t pull back out.”

She couldn’t stop her snort before saying, “You never did like pulling out.”

“I swear to gods.” He muttered while rubbing his hands down his face

“Oh, come on Ro, that was a good one.” She grinned at him through the lowered window.

He sighed and leveled a look at her, but she watched his lip quirk to the side. “That was mediocre at best.”

She huffed, “Whatever, you just can’t appreciate my level of humor.”

“Aelin.” He crossed his arms, his tattoo stretching over the taut skin. It was too distracting.

“Rowan can’t you just park the car?” she asked again, shooting him the look that normally made him relent and agree with her.

“Uh uh, nope.” He shook his head and raised a single brow. “Not that face. Cut it out, Fireheart, I’m not backing down on this. Try one more time.”

“Fine.” Aelin took a breath and squared her shoulders before bringing the car back into position.

“Perfect, keep going. Now fix the wheel and turn the other way.”

Too excited by her progress, Aelin hit the gas with more force. The car lurched backward, faster than either she or Rowan could anticipate.

Aelin felt the car hit something solid.

She heard a loud grunt, a curse, and the sound of a body tumbling to the ground.

Slamming on the brake, her head whipped between the rearview mirror and over her shoulder through the back window.

“Rowan? Rowan!”

Aelin didn’t care that her car was still sticking halfway out into the street as she threw it in park and flung the door open. She sprinted around the trunk to see Rowan lying on his back on the grass of the boulevard.

“Oh my gods, Rowan! I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?” Aelin fell to her knees beside Rowan.

His eyes were scrunched shut but he hissed out a breath and cracked them open to see Aelin’s distressed face.

“I’ll survive.” He grunted and sat up.

“Oh my gods,” she murmured and sat back on her heels once she was sure Rowan wasn’t in serious pain. “I hit you.”

Rowan rubbed his hip that had apparently taken the brunt of the impact.

“I hit you.” She said again, eyes wide and voice brimming on hysterical. “I fucking hit you with my car.”

“Yeah, Aelin, I’m aware.” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Let me see.” She insisted, gently grabbing the hem of his shirt, and lifting it enough to see the start of a bruise. “Rowan I—”

“It looks worse than it feels,” he said. “you weren’t even going that fast.”

“I don’t care how fast I was driving, Ro, I hit you with my fucking car.”

He couldn’t stop his lip from quirking at her incredulous stare, “Who knew parallel parking could be so dangerous?”

She met his eyes, pulling her gaze away from the marring bruise she’d caused, and saw the amusement in his face.

Aelin scoffed and sat back. “This just proves it.”

She helped him stand because, despite Rowan’s insistence that he was fine, he noticeably winced as he tried to prop himself up from the grass.

“Proves what?” he asked, leaning back onto the car as Aelin bit her lip, watching him move stiffly

She huffed and stepped into his arms, wrapping hers around his back, careful to avoid the sore spot, as his looped around her and slid into the back pocket of her jeans.

“It proves” she dragged out the word, “that parallel parking and I—don’t mix.” She stepped closer into his embrace as he held back an exasperated sigh, “I vow, on this day and as you as my witness, to never attempt another parallel park in my life.”

Rowan snorted and rolled his eyes even as he chuckled at her words. “Really, Fireheart—”

“I vowed it. It’s been vowed.”

He sighed. He ought to be used to his girlfriend’s dramatics

“Let’s go home,” Aelin suggested, “I think there’s an icepack with your name on it.”

Although Rowan thought that was a fantastic idea, he looked at her skeptically. “You just really don’t want to finish parallel parking, do you?”

“First off, I vowed never to do that again,” she leaned back to get a better look at his face, playfully smirking, “second, you literally just got hit by a car, I think it’s fair to say the least you need right now is an icepack. And third,” she raised a brow, “that car was me. I hit you. While trying to parallel park. Why would you want me to try that again?”

Rowan rolled his eyes but nodded, “Compelling argument.”

“Buzzard, give it up. I’m not going to park this car. I’m going to drive us home, get you an icepack,” she stood on her tiptoes to say into her ear, “and then I’ll make it up to you. Extensively.”

She leaned back and saw his eyes darken at her tone.

“Now get in the car,” she insisted, “I need to get us home so I can tell Elide what happened. She’ll love it.”

Rowan raised a brow but walked to the passenger seat, “Elide will love that fact that you hit me?”

Aelin rolled her eyes and sunk into the driver’s seat. “No, of course not. But she knows first-hand just how badly I suck at parallel parking, so she’ll be thrilled to know that I’ll never attempt it again.”

Rowan chuckled as they drove away.

Aelin turned the music on low and glanced at Rowan, “I may suck at parallel parking, but,” she winked, “I can think of something that likes it when I suck.”

He smirked widely but retorted, “That was worse than your other joke.”

Aelin just laughed and turned the music up.

*****

Taglist:

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useyernamesteven · 4 years ago

Text

(Needed some goofy fluff to distract myself from the angst im writing so buckle up, its long. Based on that one post I cannot find so if anyone can help a homie out, much appreciated)

Raya/Namaari Accidental Marriage Proposal

Its not a far stretch to assume that the different tribes have different practices and rituals. And given the 500 year gap in communication its also easy enough to assume that the tribes don't know about each others differing customs.

For example: marriage proposals. In Tail its as cut-and-dry as asking. Talon people propose with rings and jade coin. When you propose in Spine you chop down a tree to show your commitment and strength.

The Fang propose with blades. Fang people love their knives, daggers, spears, and other pointy weapons, so if you want to ask someone to marry you, you do it with a blade.

I like to imagine it'd be because offering a blade to someone- who isn't family -is the equivalent of trusting your life to that person. I like to think the Fang value not only a person's strength and honour, but their ability to care and protect their people. So giving a blade to your chosen love is like saying, "I'm giving you this weapon because I trust you with my heart, literally and metaphorically".

But again, 500 year old divide means others have no clue what giving a knife to someone from Fang entails...

So maybe its been a few months or so after the Druun have been vanquished. Raya is still re-learning how to be a 'princess' while playing liaison between the tribes, with Sisu as her partner in crime. She likes it because she still gets to travel and she gets to see her new friends from the other tribes: Boun's business is booming, Noi has started talking, and Tong has become the new Chief of Spine.

Then there's Namaari.

Six years of playing cat-and-mouse together (or rather angry kitten and homeless puppy) can be hard to overcome. At first it was a struggle. And incredibly awkward. Namaari, too guilt ridden over what she'd done, and Raya, still angry and socially stunted, could barely hold a conversation together.

Eventually Raya, fed up with the weird awkward talk, dragged Namaari to Fang's training grounds and challenged her to a sparring match. And only when it was over, the both of them exhausted and laying on the ground, did they start talking, actually talking. About what happened with the gem, with Sisu, what they can't let go of, not yet, but what they hope they can move past one day.

It made things after easier because it was familiar ground for them, but it also opened up new paths too. Now in the months since they saved the world and having spent that time working together, Raya would like to consider Namaari a close friend.

Which is probably why she's so surprised when Namaari off-handedly mentions her birthday is next week. Namaari, who's less than thrilled about her mother's plans for a big celebration, doesn't even notice how much Raya's caught off guard. Namaari doesn't really care for her birthday, much less when her mother makes a big deal about it, but she still brushes her hair behind her ear when she asks Raya if she's going to attend.

Raya recovers, nudging Namaari saying that she's obviously going, and boasting about the amazing gift she's going to bring.

Which then leads to her dragging Sisu to Talon in search of the perfect gift (Sisu being the only 'person' she knows who can help being that she's a master gift giver... Sisu's words, not Raya's, but still). They run around Talon for ages, with Sisu practically buying everything in sight (with the Heart Palace Credit of course) but Raya can't find a single thing she thinks Namaari would actually like.

And then she spots a Fang vendor selling blades.

The woman is nice and she asks Raya if she's looking for something in particular. Raya says she wants to get a dagger for 'someone special' from Fang (not wanting to rack up the price if the woman knew who it was for, but also completely unaware to what she's just implied).

The vendor seems a little surprised but she easily walks Raya through picking out the perfect dagger for her 'someone special'. Raya ends up buying a pretty, yet functional dagger with a dragon engraved in the blade and an ornate box to keep it in. As Raya's leaving the woman gives her a pat on the shoulder and says, "All the best for the both of you and I'm sure she'll say yes," which Raya can't really make sense of so she shrugs and leaves to go find Sisu and her mountain of trinkets.

So now its the party, and when Namaari said Virana was making a big deal about it, she really meant it. People from all the tribes are attending and Sisu's brought her brothers and sisters and there's music and food and fireworks...

And Namaari stands beside her mother in a beautiful dress that makes Raya's heart thud erratically (it's totally platonic). Her and her Ba walk up to them and start making small talk before her Ba and Virana break off to chat with other dignitaries, leaving Raya and Namaari together.

Raya likes how Namaari relaxes around her when its just them, despite the room full of people. They talk and banter and tease and laugh, but more than anything Raya just likes being with Namaari. And when Namaari mentions how much she hates formal wear, how dresses don't suit her, Raya makes it a game to see how many times she can mention how beautiful Namaari looks while they're talking, just because it makes Namaari flush and do the hair thing she does when she's shy. No other heart-related reason.

Its not until much later when Raya suddenly remembers the gift she brought and she runs off to fetch it. When she returns she hands Namaari the sleek box with a smile and a sheepish "Happy Birthday dep'la".

And Namaari's blushing and smiling as she takes the box, telling Raya she didn't have to as she opens the box-

And immediately slams it shut. Her face turns bright red and she whorls on Raya with wide eyes and a panicked, hissed "whatareyoudoing?!" And poor Raya's totally thrown, so sure she'd picked out the perfect gift. "You don't like it?" But Namaari shoves the box back into her hands, with another frenzied whisper "thatsnotit!"

Well now Raya's a little miffed because "You didn't even look at it" and before Namaari can stop her she's pulling the dagger from the box and offering it back to Namaari.

Meanwhile the room goes incredibly quiet as everyone from Fang suddenly notices what's happening between the princesses. Virana nearly spits out her drink. Everyone else carries on like normal, but a few people watch their new Fang friends with curious looks, completely out of the loop.

So now Raya's essentially down on one knee without realizing it, Namaari's about to have a heart attack, everyone from Fang is on the edge of their seat, and the dragons are having a rousing drinking contest with people from Spine.

So the party is going great.

Raya (oblivious to the world save for Namaari) is giving Namaari her strongest puppy dog eyes because she'd spent so long looking for the perfect gift dep'la, and "You're pretty special Namaari, special to me, and you deserve it."

Namaari, as red faced as she is, softens at Raya's admission, smiling a little to herself before she takes the dagger from Raya with a soft "it's lovely dep'la".

And suddenly the room's loud again as people from Fang start clapping and whistling. Everyone else is lost but soon they join in as well, despite having no clue as to what they're cheering for. Namaari's back to being flustered and she grabs Raya's hand and hauls her toward Virana and Benja. Raya, finally taking in the room around them, is confused as to why people are congratulating her and Namaari.

Virana has recovered by the time the two approach and if no one knew better it might've also appeared she was trying hard not to smile. Namaari hisses something to her mother Raya doesn't hear, and she shoots her Ba a questioning look. Benja looks a little pensive but he's got a quirk in his lips that Raya knows means mischief.

Virana gently pats her daughter's shoulder before turning to address the room, excusing the four of them. They turn to leave but not before Virana calls out to the crowd, "And it goes without saying you're all invited to the wedding as well," and then ushers her horrified daughter, her baffled betrothed, and Benja out the door.

Instantly Namaari's in hysterics, asking her mother why she'd say that when Raya obviously didn't know what she was doing. Virana, quite obviously playing ignorance, asks why Namaari accepted the blade if she knew what she was doing. And poor Namaari can only gape, red faced and no come back.

Raya has finally caught on to what she's done and yeah, okay now it all makes sense. The vendor, Namaari's (gay) panic, the congratulations... she just proposed to Namaari. She just proposed to Namaari. In front of most of Kumandra. Oh toi!

Benja, still smirking to himself, ruffles Raya's hair before turning to Namaari and Virana and saying, "To be fair... Namaari did propose first."

Marriage proposals in Heart are an exchange of necklaces. So when Namaari had given Raya the Sisu pendant back when they were kids, they'd essentially gotten engaged and since Raya kept it, they've technically been engaged for the past six years.

(Too) Long story short, Raya and Namaari get engaged, get married, fall in love, and live sapphically ever after.

End.

(Okay, I'm done. Back to angst.)

#raya and the last dragon #ratld #rayaari #rayamaari #raya and namaari #oof i lost steam halfway through this #sorry its so terrible #i just didnt really feel like actually writing it out

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years ago

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delicate -- Hotch x Reader one-shot

Here’s that one-shot I’ve been holding for a while! Named her delicate after Taylor Swift’s song, purely because of the whole “dive bar on the east side/where you at?” imagery. I listened to the Spotify Singles (acoustic) version of the song while writing this, if you wanna listen while you read! Enjoy!! xx.

Summary: Hotch doesn’t go to bars very often. Until he meets you at one.

Warnings: age gap (reader is somewhere around 24-25), mentioning of being safe at a bar (so alluding to date rape drugs), harassment from one drunk dickhead

Hotch Masterlist

Hotch doesn’t go to bars.

When he’s not on a case, working on paperwork for a case, or caring for his son, he’s normally asleep.

Not at a bar.

But some nights, the memories are too much. Some nights, the cases take a toll on him — especially the children that never made it back home to their parents.

He doesn’t know why he’s in a bar. The only time he comes is when the team goes out and wants to drag him with. It’s normally Dave who manages to get him to agree to a beer or two.

But Aaron is alone this time.

You, on the other hand, know exactly why you’re in a bar.

You’re bored, you’ve just finished your masters degree, you need a drink and some time to yourself to people-watch.

It’s fun, really. Observing people while they’re drunk. You usually have one drink and switch over to water, wanting to remember the things you see while also staying safe.

But occasionally— or, well, more than occasionally by the sheer unfortunate fact of you being a woman alone in a bar, you get the typical man sliding into the seat next to you before he’s even all the way through his rehearsed, “Is this seat taken?”

You never answer. There is no point in trying because their ass already hits the chair before you can say, “Yes, it’s taken, by my foot, now move before I kick it up your ass.”

You never say that, not often. Sometimes the guys can be pretty big assholes, but the bartender, Vanessa, knows you well, so she usually threatens security before you get yourself in trouble.

Unfortunately, tonight looks like it’s going to be one of those nights.

The bar is packed for a reason you aren’t privy too until you see (and hear) the random band start a new song. Great. Performance.

Still, you snag the last seat at the bar, waving to the bartender when she sees you. You barely get the seat warm before she’s sliding your usual in front of you.

“It’s on the house tonight,” she yells.

“What?” You shake your head. “No the fuck it’s not.”

She leans closer so she doesn’t have to yell as loud. “You are my saving grace in this sea of assholes, so yes it is. We can fight about it later.”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. You dip your hands underneath the bar to switch your diamond ring from your right to left hand.

Tonight, you’re married.

You got this ring when your last relationship ended so badly. It was a long time coming, and once you were finally able to see the other side, you went out and bought yourself an engagement ring. Just for you. A promise to yourself to start loving yourself harder, and going out with dickheads less.

So far, it’s been wonderful. You’re loving being alone. It was exhausting going on so many first dates, trying to love someone else instead of letting yourself heal.

It’s been two years of singleness for you now, and you’ve loved almost every day.

The “wedding” ring usually makes most of the guys turn the other way. A few that are oblivious will try talking to you, but once they glance at your hand, they excuse themselves.

It’s hysterical, if you’re honest.

But some, unfortunately, don’t give a damn.

Like the guy who has just squeezed his way into the seat next to you.

You roll your eyes and prepare yourself for the shallow conversations because, for some ungodly reason, the band decided now was a good time for a break.

“You come here often?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Nope.”

“It’s a pretty good place,” the guy says, waving down the other bartender, his name is Nick. “You should come here more often.”

“Should I, now?”

“Yeah,” the guy grins. “You’ll see me.”

You roll your eyes so hard it nearly hurts.

“Wanna dance?”

“Not in the mood.”

“Can I buy you another drink?”

“No thanks.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Why, do you work here?”

“Look, I’m just trying to be nice.” Ah, there it is. The “nice guy” line.

You turn your head, raising an eyebrow. “Good for you. I’m not interested.”

“Ooh,” he feigns hurt, holding an open hand to his chest. “Ouch.”

You shrug. “You’ll get over it.”

“Damn.”

“Mm.”

“You sure you don’t wanna dance?”

“I’m married,” you say easily, picking your glass up with your left hand to show off your ring. You don’t drink from your glass because you made the mistake of looking away for only a moment, so now you’re paranoid that he might’ve slipped something in it.

The guy looks around, then back to you. “I don’t see a husband.” Oh, he sounds so smug. Like he’s pulled one over on you. Moron.

“He’s on a work trip.”

“Well, he’s not here.”

“You don’t want to get on his bad side, dude.”

“Oh really? What’s he do for a living?”

“He works for the FBI.” The lie slips from your mouth before you can stop it, and you almost laugh.

It’s something you’ve pulled from the countless guys that have said they work for the FBI, but have no badge to show for it. It’s always cracked you up. You’re aware there’s an FBI office around here, but you doubt a greasy, blackout drunk works for them. Let alone more than five greasy, blackout drunks in one night.

“The FBI, huh?” The guy says, just taking it in stride. “What’s his name?”

Right as you’re about to make one up until Vanessa can get back over here to threaten security, two arms slip around your waist.

You’re ready to throw caution to the wind along with your fists, but the owner of the arms says, “Just go with it, I’m Aaron.”

You turn your head to see a very handsome older man peering down at you, a smile on his lips that you can’t help but mirror. Something about his face has your gut screaming that you can trust him, so you play along.

“Honey! I thought you were in Texas!” You throw your arms around his neck for good measure, and also for a moment to casually get a good whiff of his cologne. Goddamn. You’ll gladly be his fake-wife. Any day. Forever.

“I was,” Aaron says, squeezing you before letting you go. He moves to stand next to you, his arm around your waist in a protective manner. “We landed early, wanted to surprise you.” He kisses your knuckles to keep up the act, and then settles his eyes on the man who was bothering you.

“You must be the husband,” the guy mutters bitterly. “You really work for the FBI?”

Oh, fuck, you think. This guy just doesn’t give up. A few future scenarios flash before your eyes, but the one most alarming is a fight erupting, which isn’t all that far-fetched. You’d never be able to come back if you caused something like that.

But before you can stumble through some excuse, Aaron is pulling out a badge. An actual badge.

“Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner. I’m the unit chief of the BAU,” he says easily, holding his badge out for as long as it takes the guy to inspect it. You have no clue what BAU stands for, but you’re just thanking whatever Gods might be real that this is happening.

The idiot is scowling by the time Aaron puts his badge away. He leaves without a word.

Your jaw nearly drops as you watch the guy go, and literally leave the bar. You had hopes that he’d leave you alone, but leaving the bar entirely is even better.

Aaron’s arm slips from around your waist as he moves to take the now empty seat next to you. All the while you’re gawking at him like you’re in some fever dream.

When he catches your eyes, he says, “What?”

“Am I dreaming?” You blurt. “Do you really work for the FBI?”

He chuckles and pulls out his badge again, holding it out to you where you can read it. And sure as shit, he’s an actual FBI agent. What the fuck.

You look up as he pulls his badge away. “Did you hear me tell the guy my husband worked for the FBI?”

Aaron shakes his head. “That was pure luck. By the way,” he holds his hand out to you. “I’m Aaron.”

“Y/N,” you shake his hand, smiling at the fact that Aaron wanted to go through the official pleasantries and that you got to feel how soft his hand is again. “Thank you for that. I thought he’d never leave.”

“No worries. And it’s best he did, I really didn’t feel like arresting anyone tonight.”

“Arresting him? For what?”

“Well for starters, harassment. But since that usually doesn’t hold up very well, I’d have to say it was for his cocaine addiction.”

Your eyes widen. “He was doing coke?”

“Well, not out in the open, of course, but there were traces of it on his nose and his eyes had that look to them. Addicts are easy to spot when you run into them enough.”

Who the hell is this guy?

“Oh, and forgive me, what’s your husband’s name?” Aaron gestures down at your left hand. “I might know him, but I can’t say that I recognize you.”

“Oh,” you move the ring back to your right hand, much to Aaron’s surprise. “I’m not married. I only put it on the left hand to try to avoid assholes like that.”

“I see,” Aaron nods, and if you’re not mistaken, he almost looks pleased.

Vanessa returns to get Aaron’s drink, and then gives you a look.

You want to scream, yes, I’m well aware he is dangerously attractive and that he’s talking to me but don’t you dare say a word to embarrass me.

Instead, you say, “Can you make me another?”

She nods in understanding and pours out your drink, setting off to make a second after sliding Aaron his beer.

“So,” you turn your body and prop your head in your palm. “What’s got an FBI agent in a bar on a Tuesday night?”

He takes a long swig of his beer before answering. “What’s the real story behind that ring on your hand?”

“Answer for an answer,” you sing, smiling at Vanessa when she brings you your drink. She leaves without a word, raising her eyebrows at you.

“The cases can be rough,” Aaron says vaguely, bringing your attention back to him. “You?”

“Got it as a promise to myself to never date another prick ever again,” you chuckle, gazing down at the ring. “It’s worked its magic, so far.”

“So far?”

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

He smiles through his next swig of beer.

+++

It becomes a routine, you and Aaron sharing a drink at the bar.

To your surprise, he has the same views as you about alcohol. It’s fun to have one drink, but getting wasted and blacking out isn’t.

It’s refreshing, if you’re honest. Everyone your age wants to get absolutely shitfaced every time they go out, and that’s just never been for you.

It helps that Aaron is older. Well— You’re not sure if it helps or not. Because he is significantly older, the farthest you two have gone is sharing a drink at the bar. He usually leaves first, needing to get home to his son, to do more case work, or there was one time when he actually got a call about a case mid-drink. He was gone for two weeks after that.

But he always comes back, and he always finds you here, at this bar.

You mostly come every night to keep Vanessa company for an hour or two. To give yourself a break from the chaos of reality and to give her a familiar face in the sea of drunken customers.

Every night that Aaron isn’t here, Vanessa asks you where he is. Like you would know (you only do if he tells you of a possible up and coming case). Like you have his number (you don’t). Like you care (you don’t want to admit that you do).

“No Daddy tonight?” Vanessa teases, sliding you your drink.

“If you don’t stop calling him Daddy, I swear to God.”

“Oh, don’t swear to Him. He doesn’t need to get involved.”

You send a glare her way, but you’re holding back a laugh.

“Is he still on a case?” She asks, trying to be serious again.

You shrug. “Who knows. They can last pretty long. He was gone two weeks for the last one.”

“Keeping track, are we?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, you two are killing me here, sharing drinks and not saying how you feel. It’s torture to watch you every week, you know.”

“He’s like...twenty years older than me. Or something.”

“And?” She scoffs. “Age is but a number. You’re an adult. He’s an adult. It’s fine.”

You shrug. “He probably just sees me as a friend. He would’ve given me his number or something by now, right?”

“I dunno, men are weird. But he’s older, he’s probably scared to make a move, scared he’ll make you uncomfortable.”

You shrug again. You appreciate her trying to show you the possibilities, the logical reasons for why the two of you haven’t gone any further from the bar, but you aren’t sure what to believe. Plus, it’s been a week since you’ve seen him. The last time you two shared a drink, he didn’t say anything about a case.

So, he’s either on a case again, or has stopped coming.

The latter thought has you debating getting shitfaced wasted for the first time in years. Being blackout drunk would probably hurt you less than if it’s true that he’s just suddenly ditched you.

But what stops you is when Vanessa runs back over, eyes wide. “Just spotted your hottie.”

Oh, now he’s my hottie? “What?” You inwardly scold yourself for sounding a little too giddy at the prospect of him being here.

But if he’s here, why isn’t he sitting next to you?

Vanessa answers that one for you. “At a table in the back. He’s with friends I think.”

Friends? Never mind then on sharing a drink with him. “Oh, cool.”

Vanessa looks like she wants to say something, but is called away to another customer.

You don’t want to butt in with Aaron’s time with friends, so you stay at the bar, facing forward, nursing your one drink. Your mind conjures a plan in two seconds flat: finish your drink, head out for the night and discreetly look in Aaron’s direction, hopefully catch his eye, but if not, just go home and...shower and go to sleep.

Because if he wants to see you, he will. If he doesn’t, then he won’t.

Good plan.

Or at least, it is, until Aaron is sliding up beside you.

Your heart launches itself into your throat. You don’t say anything because you have no idea what to say. You were too busy assuming he’d rather be with his friends (which is...fine because it’s not like the two of you are...dating) to notice him walking up.

He says something for you, though. “Hey.”

Well, he might as well have stayed silent. What are you supposed to do with that?

“Hey,” you return casually, then offer a small smile. “Thought you’d be gone longer.” You operate on the assumption that he was on a case.

And he was. “This one actually worked in our favor.” He leans his elbows onto the bar, and naturally your eyes follow the movement. He’s not in a stuffy suit like the last few times, but he’s still in a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Arms. You’re a complete sucker for arms, and he’s practically teasing you like this.

“That’s good,” you comment, taking a sip from your drink. “Here to celebrate?”

“Yeah, we are.”

Nick brings Aaron his beer, thankfully, because you know Vanessa would’ve made some not-so-vague comment about Aaron being up here -- and maybe let an “accidental” Daddy comment slip.

To your surprise, Aaron sits down.

Your eyebrows furrow. “I thought you’re here with friends?”

Aaron looks over his shoulder and shrugs. “Just my team, yeah. I imagine they’re tired of me, though.”

You doubt that’s the case, but you know that if you say that, he’ll just brush it off.

“Not even gonna introduce me?” You tease instead, but you honestly want to smack yourself. You need to get a better hold on your word vomit. Inviting yourself is insanely rude.

Aaron’s eyebrows raise slightly, clearly not expecting you to say that — or to even want to be introduced to his team. “They’re a lot,” he says. “They’ll make a big deal out of this.”

“This?” You question, gesturing shortly between the two of you. “What is this?”

“What do you want it to be?” He asks carefully, averting his eyes shyly.

“Well,” you exhale dramatically, swirling your drink. “I think when you’ve shared a drink with a woman more than...twenty times, it should at least be considered dating.” You cut your eyes in his direction, your chest swelling as you see a grin breaking out on his face.

“I think I’m a bad date,” he says, confusing you. He chuckles, adding, “You don’t even have my number!”

“I’ll get it at the end of tonight,” you say, touching his arm gently for reassurance. “Come on, I think the back of my head is burning from how hard they’re staring.”

He looks through the corner of his eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry in advance for them.”

“No need to apologize,” you shrug. “Friends can be the worst. Vanessa has already started asking questions about you.” You nod toward the bartender that is feigning interest in clearing a space behind the bar.

“I figured,” Aaron murmurs. “Okay.” He slides off the stool, grabbing his beer in one hand, and holding his other one out to you.

Your heart jumps harshly when you take his hand. It’s warm and soft and secure, everything you want and need. You grab your drink in your free hand, giving Aaron’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

As soon as you and Aaron approach the table, the older gentleman is punching the one with tattoos. “Pay up.”

Aaron witnesses the cash exchange and stares at them tiredly. “Seriously, guys?”

Meanwhile, you’re holding back a giggle.

“Well, hello,” the woman with the colorful fashion sense says. “Introduce us!”

Aaron looks ready to pretend like he doesn’t know any of them, so you step up and say, “He told me you guys would be like this.”

That gets him laughing, and he finally says, “Y/N, this is Penelope, Emily, JJ, Spencer, Derek, and Dave.” Each person nods, waves, or smiles when their name is called.

“I’ll try to remember,” you joke. “But no promises.”

You squeeze Aaron’s hand in yours, trying to get him to loosen up. He does, barely, so when he tugs on your hand, silently asking you to step closer to him so his arm can fit around your waist, you oblige.

“What was the bet about?” You ask, nodding toward the men who exchanged cash a bit ago. It was Dave and Derek if you’re remembering names correctly.

“Rossi thought Hotch was going to bring you back over here, but I didn’t agree,” Derek says, nudging Dave’s arm. “I didn’t think you’d go for him.”

“Well, that’d be embarrassing if I went for someone else, considering we’re dating,” you chuckle, leaning your head back to look up at Aaron.

“Dating? So it’s official?” Emily asks, looking a little more excited than you thought any of them would.

“I think it was official the first time we met,” you snicker. “He pretended to be my husband so some dickhead would leave me alone.”

Aaron’s arm tightens around your waist at the memory.

“Okay,” Penelope grabs her drink, then moves over next to you, linking your arm with hers. “Hotch, we’re stealing her. We need details.”

Aaron doesn’t look like he wants to let go at all, but you press a kiss to his cheek. “Told you it’d be fine,” you whisper to him.

He surprises you by pressing a kiss on your lips. Midway through, your brain reminds you that this is technically your first kiss with him. And it’s in front of his friends. Swoon.

After so many dates with guys who were ashamed to be showing any sort of affection toward a woman, it’s nice to find a man who doesn’t care who sees his affection.

What can you say? After dating so many boys, it’s nice to finally find a man.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #hotch x reader #hotch x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch fluff #fluff #cm #delicate songfic #because i can't NOT think of taylor swift when i write

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liberty-barnes · 4 years ago

Text

Just Breathe

Tom Holland x Female!Osterfield!Bisexual!Reader

Summary: Childbirth waits for no one, not even the Oscars.

Warnings: fluuuuuff, pregnant reader, mentions of childbirth, good press articles, BISEXUAL READER WOOOHOOO

Word Count: 1.5k words

Estimated Reading Time: 6 minutes

A/N: heeeeey look @peterspideyy @parkersbliss that crazy idea i ranted to you about like six months ago finally got done! i can’t believe i did it... this feels too good to be true, is the world gonna end or something?

Masterlist

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"Me neither."

"Please, just stay here."

You looked up to your brother and husband, frowning as you smoothed your hand over the soft black fabric of your gown.

"I am not missing the Oscars, Tom. I've still got two weeks until I'm due, it'll be fine."

You sat down on the bed and looked dejectedly at your shoes, then proceeded to throw puppy dog eyes your brother's way until Harrison had no choice but to kneel and help you put on your comfortable trainers. There's no way you're putting on your heels at 37 weeks of pregnancy.

"But what if Baby decides to come sooner? You could go into labour at any moment!"

You rolled your eyes and only raised your arms so they could help you out of bed.

"You guys are being over-dramatic. Nothing's gonna happen. We're just going to the Oscars, we'll have a good time, and hopefully, I'll leave with a little statue under my arm."

With that, you waddled out of your hotel room, ready to get into the limo.

---

"(Y/n)! It's so good to see you! You look radiant as always!"

You smiled at Kaitlyn, an interviewer you knew and trusted and rubbed your belly comfortingly.

"Thank you, I feel like a whale, but Baby'll be here soon so it's worth it."

She smiled and asked you a bunch of questions about your movie and how you were feeling about being nominated for Best Actress.

"But anyway, how far along are you now?"

"I'm a little over 37 weeks, they should be coming soon. Tom and Haz were actually really apprehensive about me coming here since I'm so close to my due date."

She smiled and looked over at the two men, obviously on edge.

"Well, I wish you all the best and I sincerely hope you win."

You hugged her goodbye and posed for a few more pictures before being led inside by your husband.

---

"And now, for the moment you've all been waiting for..."

Everyone watched with bated breath as Brie Larson, last year's winner, got ready to announce who would take home the trophy.

"This year's winner, and taking home the Oscar for best actress in a leading role..."

Tom took your hand and you squeezed it tight, ready to applaud one of the other amazing actresses on their win.

"(Y/n) Holland, for her brilliant performance in Two Sides of the Same Coin!"

You felt like your heart was gonna beat out of your chest, run to that stage, kiss Brie, then promptly burst to flames out of sheer, unadulterated enthusiasm. Tom was hugging you and whispering how much you deserved it while your brother gently guided you to the podium. None of them would ever allow you to go up there on your own. Always one in front of you in case you trip forward and one behind you to catch you if you fall back.

Overprotective much?

As soon as you reached Brie, you hugged her tight (or as tight as you could with a human baby house separating you), taking the award while the two boys hugged her too.

"Holy Louis Tomlinson in a crop top."

The audience laughed, most of them already familiar with your strange One Direction inspired expressions.

"Wow, I didn't actually think I was gonna win this, everyone had such amazing performances. I-It's an honour, really. Two Sides of the Same Coin was a project very near and dear to my heart, so I'd like to thank the amazing Drew Barrymore, who wrote and directed the movie."

The room erupted in cheers and the woman smiled at you from her place on the front row.

"Bisexual representation is something we don't get very often, and when we do, it's always misjudged. So thank you for showing the world what bisexuality really is, and for giving me a chance to live out my dreams of kissing lots of people. This idiot tied me down too soon."

You pointed behind you at Tom, hearing his appalled squeak along with Harrison's guffaw of a laugh.

In other news, the baby was starting to inconvenience you slightly. Baby had been going crazy since last night (not that you'd tell the boys) and the Braxton-Hicks were killing you, but it only got worse now.

"I'd also like to thank my amazing costars, Zendaya, Bella Thorne, and Owen Patrick Joyner, it was awesome to make out with you all..."

The crowd laughed while you felt something trickle down your legs.

Oh.

OH.

You'll never live this down, that's for sure.

"Uh, before I finish can one of you idiots call the car and get them to come to the exit please and thank you? Now as I was saying-"

"Wait, why?"

You turned to your brother and smiled innocently.

"Oh, my water just broke."

The crowd cheered.

Tom screamed.

Harrison fell to the floor, unconscious.

You sighed.

"New plan, can anyone try to wake my brother while my hus-"

You looked at Tom, frantically doing small back and forths between you and his best friend, unsure of what to do.

"-While someone else calls the car because both of them are apparently useless."

"We need to get you to the hospital!"

His terrified scream could be heard all through the room, even with no mic.

"What? No! I need to finish my acceptance speech, then go back to the hotel to shower and maybe take a little nap and then go to the hospital. My water just broke, Thomas, we have time, calm your tits."

You turned back fully to the mic, facing the hysteric faces of the crowd, very entertained by the exchange.

"Now as I was saying, I want to thank the amazing team that worked on this movie, you're all amazing and it was such a good experience. I'd also like to thank my family for always being there for me and supporting me and Haz in our acting careers. Thank you to my brother, even if he's unconscious right now, he'll just watch it on Youtube later, for literally forcing me to go to the audition. And lastly, I'd like to thank my wonderful husband, who hopefully hasn't passed out yet, for always supporting me and being my biggest rock through everything. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to deliver a baby, you know, just normal Saturday night stuff."

---

An Oscar in hand and another... down her legs?

(Y/n) Holland sure gave the Oscars something to be entertained by on this last Saturday. The wife of fellow actor Tom Holland looked radiant in her custom-made Valentino dress, looking ready for a night of fun.

(Y/n) was nominated for this year's Best Actress in a Leading Role award, alongside Meryl Streep, Margot Robbie, Cate Blanchett, and Tessa Thompson, but the Oscar went to her from her brilliant performance in Two Sides of the Same Coin. But it was during her acceptance speech that things got... slippery.

At 37 weeks of pregnancy, the Holland baby was ready to come at any minute, but apparently, theatrics run in the family. The actress was in the middle of her speech when she felt her water break, pausing in her talking to request a car be called.

You'd think her husband, Tom, and brother Harrison Osterfield, overprotective as they are, would be fully prepared! Unfortunately for them, and fortunately for our entertainment, they were not. Harrison went unconscious after hearing the news, dropping to the floor and earning himself a minor concussion, much to his sister's amusement

[image1-harrison-ice-pack.png]

@ynholland: "Don't worry, when you go into labour, I'll be with you every step of the way." Said Harrison Osterfield, then proceeded to pass out, get a minor concussion, and miss the whole delivery.😂 Good job, little bro👍

And just when you thought she couldn't get any better, she finishes her acceptance speech with: "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to deliver a baby, you know, just normal Saturday night stuff." We have no choice but to stan this iconic queen!

But for the news you've all been waiting for, Oscar Robert Holland (yes, the middle name is a homage to Robert Downey Jr. himself, we're not crying, you are!) was born just twelve hours later. Tom let know through a beautiful Instagram picture that he is in fact "perfectly healthy and loved by everyone already".

[image2-tom-and-oscar.png]

@tomholland2013: I present to you, my best creation to this date: Oscar Robert Holland. Thank you all for your prayers and kind messages, our boy is perfectly healthy and loved by everyone already❤️

But of course, Uncle Haz wouldn't stay behind.

[image3-haz-and-oscar.png]

@hazosterfield: Since I know you've all been worried sick and desperate to know how the baby is... I'm doing just fine, it's just a minor concussion :) Oh and my godson's great too.

And just to prove that the Osterfields are indeed the royal family of comedy, we leave with this wonderful picture posted to the happy mum's very own Instagram.

[image4-yn-and-oscars.png]

@ynholland: Guess I was so good they gave two Oscars instead of one ;)

-Written by Kaitlyn Storm

so anyway, Two Sides of the Same Coin is a movie idea i got a while ago and should maybe try to write one of these days but oh well or something. anyway, i’m not gonna rant about it here cause it’d be too long but i hope you enjoyed this and don’t forget to like/comment/reblog if you feel like it!

-Love, Miah

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

PERMA TAG

@adriannajackson123 @theamazingtomholland @inlovewithmobtom @andycanbeemotional @officiallyunofficialperson @lost-in-the-stars03 @jeezkiddo @a-singleboat @wunder-13 @highlydisfunctional1 @ellyseveronica @inthecornerchair @harishaanne @anjalika03 @lozzypoz321 @mendes-marvel @sovereignparker @bubbles-the-powerpuffgurl

MARVEL ACTORS

@sarcasticallywitty15 @agentnataliahofferson @onelovesr @agentnataliahofferson @parkerpetertingle @juliebean247 @frustratingpaperclip @tacobacoyeet

HOLLAND & CO.

@sarcasticallywitty15 @agentnataliahofferson @onelovesr @agentnataliahofferson @zeusmyster @parkerpetertingle @juliebean247 @joyleenl @quaksonhehe @clara-licht @frustratingpaperclip @tutuabby28 @tacobacoyeet

LGBTQ+

@quaksonhehe

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cheegu3 · 3 years ago

Text

~ Yandere Hyunjin - X31 [CULT SPECIAL 2/2 PTS]

tw / trigger warning: yandere themes, cult themes (brainwashing etc), violence, blood/gore, murder, disturbing themes, swearing

wc: 3k

a/n: so I’m a bit tipsy and wrote this just like really quickly idek what’s going on or if this is shit lmao sorry, I will proofread this tomorrow mwah love u

summary: the gang from your hometown that you knew as criminals had now kidnapped you and as they take you to their destination you soon find out they’re actually a cult, will you be able to escape or will you become their pet forever?

‘‘ You’re..them ‘‘ you muttered at last somehow sounding disbelieved.

‘‘ You must’ve known right? At least a part of you knew all along ‘‘ he answered with a smirk.

You huffed.

‘‘ If I knew, don’t you think I would’ve fought back harder than I did? ‘‘ you looked at him coldly.

‘‘ Well actually- ‘‘ he leaned in closer to you, so close that you could see your own reflection in his crazy, empty brown eyes.

‘‘ I think you wanted this ‘‘ he adds.

‘‘ W-what are you fucking crazy? ‘‘ you exclaimed hysterically, the panic was overtaking your body every second that passed.

He nodded and the smirk was back again as if he enjoyed seeing you like this. You bet he had seen way worse captures of his, who suffered a lot more.

‘‘ You want to know why? ‘‘ he asked tauntingly.

He didn’t even give you a chance to answer before he went on.

‘‘ You’re a lonely pathetic woman in her 20s. You have no job, no money, no boyfriend or husband and no family ‘‘ he said this in such a mocking manner that it took you aback. You felt like your whole body went cold, like you were an insect under his magnifying glass and after he had inspected you he crushed you.

This was all too much for you. You tried the best that you could to turn away from him, sort of looking out the window - only, all the windows were covered up and you assumed it was to make you feel disoriented and not see where you were. It was smart, you’d admit that. On top of that the leader had kept you occupied so you didn’t even get the chance to feel what ways the car was turning to somehow name your location.

He didn’t say anything more for the rest of the ride except for a low,

‘‘ I’m Hyunjin. The leader ‘‘

Then he left you alone, you weren’t sure if he was watching you but it sure felt like his eyes never left you, even when you were turned so that you couldn’t see him in the corner of your eye, the feeling of his gaze lingered.

Not long after, the van came to an abrupt stop throwing you forwards slightly. The doors were slid open revealing the familiar guys from before. Only three of them were in the doorway now though, one shorter one with freckles, the other shorter one with a mean and stern looking face and one that looked like a golden retriever. As you looked at them you wondered how they had ended up here in this gang. They were once normal people just like yourself, what happened to them? Perhaps...they were kidnapped like yourself and they would try to make you one of them?

‘‘ Get out ‘‘ the mean looking one barked at you and then said to Hyunjin ‘‘ We’re here master. Everything is ready ‘‘

The leader reached over again to unbuckle your seatbelt but he wasn’t really looking at you this time, he seemed to be in a hurry. In fact he seemed to be so stressed when you had stepped out that he swept you off your feet. You yelped in surprise but he wasted no time, walking straight away towards the buildings doors.

It looked like it was some kind of abandoned church. It was worn down and dark, covered in graffiti and had several white sheets covering up the window. You shivered at the creepy vibe it gave off, it looked like the perfect place for a gang.

As your group approached the entry doors, two of the guys from before hurried up in front to hold the doors open for Hyunjin and you. You felt him walk again and you tried to turn from your place in his arms to look around. You gasped.

People in masks and dark cloaks stood in a circle around some kind of table. The walls were dirty and worn out just like the outside and the familiar church seats didn’t look very familiar anymore, they were filled with clutter like books and candles. More candles decorated the walls and it had weird drawn symbols in white and red, which looked too much like blood.

You desperately tried to crawl out but his arms clinging onto you only got harder, tightening the grip. You were coming closer and closer to the group who had now turned when they noticed your presence. The group split in the middle, making way for you to pass through. You heart dropped when you had passed by the people.

Right there was an altar. It had old dry blood ingrained in it all over. By how the dried blood looked like it had run down the sides, you thought about how much blood there had to have been there, they probably killed someone and the thought of it makes you sick.

He sat you down unexpectedly gentle and stepped back slightly while looking at you. You felt like there wasn’t a chance in hell to escape with the mob getting ever so closer as the seconds passed, soon they’d be suffocating you although it felt like their mere presence was already doing that.

‘‘ W-what, where am I...Hyunjin ‘‘ you said his name slowly as if trying it out.

His expressions didn’t change, he looked cold like he had done that same night you met him.

‘‘ Y/n, I’ve had my eyes on you for a long time. Planning, waiting for the perfect moment to take you away ‘‘ he explained calmly.

You didn’t say anything but when he said he’d been watching you for a long time you felt chills down your spine again. You didn’t feel safe here and you didn’t know what they wanted.

‘‘ Master decided to save you ‘‘ one of the mob whispered in an almost hysteric voice.

They looked really riled up or quite frankly, crazy - from the way they got closer and closer and how they looked at their leader with so much admiration, like he was some sort of God.

‘‘ Save me? ‘‘ you asked looking straight at Hyunjin to try to read his face.

You thought that maybe they were just joking but he still didn’t move a muscle. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

‘‘ You see, all the people out there they’re really bad people. They have turned to the false God and I’m the only one who can save you ‘‘ he answered fairly casually studying your face and reaction to what he had said.

‘‘ Uh, false God? ‘‘

‘‘ Jesus and his father ‘‘

You huffed. It still felt like a joke but the people surrounding you made you doubt it. Either they were really good actors or this crazy man had taken advantage of vulnerable people and brainwashed them into worshipping him.

‘‘ He’s evil and tries to mask his evil words with acts of ‘‘ kindness ‘‘ ‘’ he air-quoted the word kindness and looked truly annoyed as he explained this to you.

You weren’t really sure how to respond.

‘‘ I...Appreciate that and what you do but I would like to go home now, is that okay? ‘‘ you tried.

‘‘ No ‘‘

Silence followed. You felt like the mob were silently judging you and maybe even hated you because you got all this attention from their precious leader.

‘‘ U-um well I do have to go, I’m not interested sorry ‘‘ you swung your legs over the stone seat and put your feet on the ground below.

He didn’t move from his spot which made you hopeful, but then when you approached the mob expecting them to step aside for you to pass - they didn’t. They stood just as still, just like him. You saw him turn to you and then felt a hard grip around your forearm.

He was angry but you also saw some hint of disgust in his eyes.

‘‘ See everyone how grateful you are that I saved you, see what could’ve become of you. We’ve got a lot of work to do with this one ‘‘ he said to the mob while staring into your eyes. He smirked for a moment and that’s when you realised, this was a cult.

He was fully aware of the truth vs made up things and how he affected all these people but you supposed he liked the power. It made you sick yet again to think about how many lives he had ruined by spewing such nonsense.

His loyal followers all shouted in union,

‘‘ Yes master! ‘‘

Before Hyunjin started to drag you to a doorway at the opposite side of the room. It felt like his grip was getting tighter and tighter and you groaned quietly at the pain, it was sure to leave bruises but you knew he didn’t care - he had probably left a fair amount of bruises on his followers before.

He took you through the doorway and turned to the right. You reached a long stone corridor that felt very creepy. He kept dragging you until he had gotten to the room at the end of the corridor. There, he still kept his iron grip on you while fumbling in his pockets to take out a silver key.

‘‘ This is where you will be staying ‘‘

Anger bubbled up inside you. Who is he to decide that he was gonna ‘’ save you ‘’ to kidnap you and to order you around without you having a choice? It made you feel so belittled, and because of it you hated him already and what made it worse is the fact that you were pretty sure he enjoyed it.

He shoved you in and closed the door behind him swiftly without turning his back to you, smart, he didn’t even give you one opportunity to escape him.

‘‘ Tomorrow will be your first ritual, you should be excited ‘‘ he gave you a small smile.

You wanted to punch him so bad, to kick and scream and to run for your life. The room he had pushed you into was as cold-stoned as the corridor had been, literally. It looked like an old-school prison cell in those castles with stone floor, walls and ceiling. The windows were barred shut and was way too high up for you to reach anyway.

The only thing that made it look anything other than a prison cell was the double bed in the middle of the furthest wall. It had scarlet velvet looking covers and looked quite comfortable. In that moment you wanted nothing more than for him to leave so you could let your growing exhaustion take over you and figure out a plan to escape later after resting.

And so he actually did - to your surprise. You suppose it was because of the look of burning hate you had given him this whole time or that you had refused to answer him but whatever the reason, you felt relieved.

He sighed and left, closing the door rather harshly after him but you didn’t even look at him, he didn’t deserve that.

Your head found the pillow automatically and you let your body relax, falling asleep not that long after.

‘‘ Hello? Y/n get the fuck up ‘‘ the distant voice who had been mumbling, or least that’s what it sounded like to you - suddenly started to get louder and clearer.

You body jerked awake when you realised it wasn’t a dream and the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was those brown eyes of the leader himself. He looked annoyed, like you were just a burden to him and the fact that you’d woken up so late was just another inconvenience.

He rolled his eyes.

‘‘ Finally. We haven’t got all day Ms princess ‘‘

You yawned at looked at him still half-asleep. You got up without protesting though because you didn’t want to anger him any more.

You wasted no time and even got dressed in front of him, ignoring his presence while continuing to be in a dazed and tired state.

He seemed to wait as patiently as he could but that didn’t stop him from sending you glares every now and then.

At last you were ready, dressed in a white plain summery dress that had been put out for you to wear. You noticed while walking up to him that he was now wearing very light coloured clothes as well - a strong contrast to the day before. He didn’t have his piercings on, his tattoos were covered and he wore long white linen clothes. You gagged at the thought of him picking out clothes just so you would match.

‘‘ Come on ‘‘ he mumbled. His patience seemed to be running out.

He opened the door and basically pushed you out in front of him, then he closed the door once again and followed quickly. It felt like he was breathing down your neck, not giving you any space to - you assumed - not make you get away. You ignored him being that close and focused on his directions instead. He told you to go back the same way you had come from and out of the church, into a garden where the ‘’ ceremony ‘’ as he called it would happen.

You stayed silent and walked to where he wanted you to. The church was empty, which was a bit odd but you kept going until you laid your hands on the big doors again and pushed it open.

You recognised the place you had been at yesterday, even the car was still there. But you couldn’t do anything, not even get close to the car before Hyunjin barked his orders,

‘‘ Right. Then walk straight to the garden. No stopping ‘‘ and you reacted like a robot, casting one last sorrowful look at a possible escape route.

You followed his directions and walked into a clearing in the forest the church had been hiding behind itself. The mob was there again.

Of course

You thought yourself and couldn’t stop your hand from forming a fist. More people, less chance of escaping. But where else would they be if not by the side of their precious leader?

They gave you very genuinely happy smiles which freaked you out and you smiled back awkwardly to not feel like you were being rude. As you approached the group Hyunjin put his fingertips to your upper back guiding you forwards, or rather to the middle of the circle again who parted once you got close, allowing you to pass through.

Then you spotted it, another altar.

But this time you weren’t really scared, until Hyunjin told you lay down on it and his words from before rang in your head over and over again,

‘‘ Tomorrow will be your first ritual, you should be excited ‘‘

Fuck

What was going to happen to you now?

‘‘ Welcome everyone ‘’ he started off his speech, turning to the gathered crowd.

‘’ We’ve gathered here today to make a union, to forever bond the master, the greatest, to y/n, the princess ‘‘

Your head was spinning. It felt like the coldness of the stone you were laying on had transferred to your blood, making it ice cold. You weren’t even sure if you were alive anymore or if this was possibly just a dream.

‘‘ Y/n? ‘‘ he suddenly called out which caught your attention.

You turned your head to him, tears threatening to fall any second now.

‘‘ I have to do this, for us to be together forever ‘‘ he said this in an almost pitiful way and your gut knew what was coming but you didn’t want to believe it.

You were going to fight and be optimistic until the last second.

‘‘ You first, then me okay? If you keep still this will be quicker ‘‘ the fact that he looked truly sorry made you forget for a moment what kind of person he was.

He walked up to you and you got so enhanced in his eyes, it was easy to see how all the other people had believed his lies. You were even ready to accept your faith, and so you did the only thing you could - you closed your eyes and waited.

You weren’t sure but you think you heard him say ‘’ good girl ‘’ under his breath. You also heard some distant hushed talking and some items being scraped together but you held you breath and kept your eyes closed, it was for the best.

No closed eyes or deep breaths could’ve prepared you for what came next though,

the pain was unbearable. A cold metal that was sharp penetrated your chest causing you to scream out.

‘‘ Stop! Stop! Stop! ‘‘

Hyunjin hushed you comfortingly and stroke your hair slowly, placing small kisses to your forehead but you barely felt them - the pain was so overpowering it felt like it was the only thing you felt.

Eventually when your breaths started becoming more heavy and your vision started to get blurrier, you opened your eyes one last time. You saw the man you had started to hate in such a short time, now...he was your killer.

Then you closed your eyes again and waited and waited while it felt like the liquid had decorated your entire body, hell maybe even the whole forest.

At last, after much suffering

the world did become black and you were finally at peace.

#yandere #yandere kpop #kpop yandere #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids yandere #kpop #kpopidol #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #hyunjin

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tsumusamu · 4 years ago

Text

nice receive [miya atsumu x fem!reader]

genre: fluff and (once again, a sad attempt at) humor

word count: 3.8k

summary: eight months into your relationship, atsumu takes you to meet his family. things don't go as planned, but of course, everything ends up alright in the end anyway. alternatively, miya atsumu adores you and his family thinks it's easy to see why.

warnings: uhhh implied sexual content at the end but it is like barely there ok

commission for @ muppetz (it wont let me tag for some reason ugh) thank you so much for commissioning me!

a/n: this ended up being way longer than the word count requested but that’s no one’s fault but my own because i dont know when to shut the FUCK up anyways i hope this one shot is enjoyable lol

content under the cut!

You literally never thought that you would ever end up in this situation.

"C'mon babe, why the long face? Ya nervous or somethin'?"

"No." You purse your lips, huffily averting your gaze from your boyfriend's smirking face.

"Ya don't needa be like that." Atsumu drapes an arm across your shoulder, pecking your forehead as a sort of reassurance. "No one could ever hate this cute face, after all." He accentuates his words by squishing your cheeks, drawing out a yelp of protest from you.

"If you keep talking like this, you're gonna jinx it, you know." Your words come out softer and more hesitant than intended, and you startled even yourself at how utterly anxious you sound.

"Yer gonna be fine. Trust me, I wouldn’t take just any random girl to meet my folks, and they’re well aware of that." Atsumu ruffles your hair.

"I just... I hope they're not..." You pause for a moment, trying to find the right word. "...Disappointed?" You grimace when your boyfriend suddenly throws his head back in such voracious laughter, that you swear you saw a few hysterical tears.

"Are ya jokin'?" he all but wheezes. "Yer the libero for the national volleyball team, for God's sake. If anythin', I'd be the disappointment here."

"'Tsumu — " you start, but he interrupts you by pulling you in for a comforting hug.

"Don't worry yer pretty head anymore, got it?" he murmurs into your ear. "Yer wonderful, and I couldn't be luckier to have ya. My parents are gonna love ya. Honest."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you reach around his back to hug him back. "I hope so."

A year ago, if someone had told you that you would end up having Miya Atsumu introduce you to his family as his girlfriend, you would've laughed until your ass fell off and your stomach ached like no tomorrow.

You had been absolutely overjoyed when you were chosen for the women's national volleyball team, and you were so eager to start playing with your new teammates that you had decided to attend the national team's training camp without hesitation despite your recent knee injury at the time. However, you completely overlooked the fact that you would be working with the men's team as well, which would've been completely fine... if not for Miya Atsumu.

When you first met Atsumu, he was the cocky, annoying little shit of a setter for the Japanese men's national volleyball team, someone who you were stuck training with for the next two weeks.

You still remember the first words he ever spoke to you.

"The hell are ya doin' there, lil libero? If yer not gonna be able to save the easiest ones, then ya might as well sub out."

You also remember the first thought you had about him.

'Prick.'

And the first words you spoke to him.

"Can't you look at this — " You had gestured angrily to the knee brace supporting you. "And take a fucking hint, or what?"

He had sent some unapologetic, biting words right back at you and that marked the beginning of the time you have had the utmost pleasure of knowing Miya Atsumu. The two of you had bickered rather relentlessly (not too unlike literal children, despite the both of you being well into your twenties) throughout the rest of the camp, and by the end, for some unknown reason through some unknown method, he ended up with your number.

He started texting you constantly, and as much as you tried to convince your foolish self that he was just a nuisance, you found yourself responding to his messages like an idiot anyway. Throughout the next few months, you learned that Atsumu was far more than just his overly confident demeanor; he's genuinely kind-hearted, down-to-earth, and actually kinda hilarious. And eventually — neither of you quite knew how — the two of you were staring across a table at each other in a fancy restaurant as if daring the other to blink and lose an unspoken game, on a first date that neither of you thought would go as well as it did.

A little over eight months into your happy and committed relationship, Atsumu suggested that the two of you go to his hometown in Hyogo for a weekend to visit his family. You had immediately agreed with his idea, excited to meet his parents and twin brother in person, but now that he's leading you out of your shared hotel room to go do just that, your stomach's knotting uncomfortably.

Atsumu's been nothing but supportive and comforting ever since you started showing that you're nervous to meet his family. He was always happy to provide a never-ending flow of cheesy words and warm hugs, but you're genuinely afraid of embarrassing yourself. You want to impress his family and not have them see you as undeserving of their son, who you truly care for from the bottom of your heart. Atsumu is your first long-term boyfriend, and you would jump off your roof if you managed to mess anything up during the visit to his folks.

The taxi ride to Atsumu's childhood home doesn't do much to soothe your nerves either, with you fiddling with your fingers the entire way through while Atsumu makes small talk with the driver. As the cab pulls up to the address that your boyfriend had provided earlier, you instinctively clench your fists so hard that you think you might bleed.

A look of alarm crosses Atsumu's face as he notices that you're still just as anxious as you were when you left the hotel earlier. He thought that the ride to his parents' house would give you some time to cool down, but that had clearly not been the case. His eyebrows furrow in concern as he reaches over to grab one of your hands in his, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"Just breathe, darlin'." He runs his thumb over the shallow nail marks embedded in your skin. "If it means anything to ya, my mom's a huge fan of yers. For real. I didn't tell ya this before, but she's especially excited to meet ya. Keeps yappin' to me askin' how I pulled ya." You flush.

"R-Really?" you stammer, wide-eyed.

"Really. Who wouldn't be a fan yers?" Atsumu grins, pecking your nose. "See, ya got nothin' to be worried about. Just chill out and be yerself, 'kay?" You nod, some of the tension releasing from your shoulders as Atsumu leads you out of the cab, hand still clutching yours.

You're feeling a little better now, though your thoughts are still running through your head at the pace of a mile a minute as you watch Atsumu pay the taxi driver and thank him for the ride. Atsumu's mother is my fan? Your ears start to heat up. I hope I can somehow live up to her expectations of me…

“Ma! We’re here!” Atsumu shouts at the top of lungs approximately one second after simultaneously ringing the doorbell and obnoxiously pounding on the door.

“Comin’, comin’, ya brat!” A feminine, yet strong voice hollers in return. You freeze on the spot, your mind going blank once again. It’s happening. It’s finally happening.

The door aggressively swings open, revealing a middle-aged woman wearing a pink apron and carrying a wooden spatula in her hand. Her dark hair is pulled into a bun away from her face and her eyes, the same chocolate brown as Atsumu’s, are gleaming with annoyance. She briefly glares at Atsumu for his rowdy entrance before her gaze catches onto you, and her entire face lights up with excitement.

“(L/N) (Y/N)! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“M-Mrs. Miya,” you stammer out, trying your best to smile but you’re sure it looked more like a wince. “It’s good to m-meet you t-too.”

"Aw, hey now. What happened to my feisty girl? It's not like ya to be so lame.” Atsumu lays his forearm on your head, effectively using you as an armrest. You jerk away, scowling.

“Shut the hell up, asshat,” you snap without thinking. About half a second later, regret slams into your body like a truck. Oh, shit. I just called my boyfriend an asshat in front of his mother. You were about to run off into the streets in utter embarrassment if not for Mrs. Miya letting out a hearty laugh way too similar to her son’s and linking arms with you.

“No need to look so scared, dear. I don’t bite. And it’s good to see that yer willin’ to put this brat in his place.”

“Ma!” Atsumu whines, pouting petulantly.

“Yer really losin’ out with him though, y’know,” Mrs. Miya whispers to you as she leads you into the house by your arm. “I’ve got another son; Atsumu’s twin. Osamu’s quite well-behaved. If yer just likin’ the looks, he would be the better option.” You can tell she’s joking by the merry twinkle in her eyes, but instead of humoring her you end up shaking your head with a quiet chuckle.

“I think Atsumu’s perfectly good for me.” The two of you pause to watch Atsumu practically sprint into the kitchen, and a few moments later there’s an agitated yell as proof that he was on his way to annoy his brother. You smile. “He makes me really happy, Mrs. Miya. You raised him well.”

“Aren’t ya just the sweetest thing?” Mrs. Miya coos at you, pinching your left cheek. “And so pretty too. I swear ya could probably clobber my brat at volleyball as well. You and yer teammate… ah, Miss Amanai? The two of you always caught my eye while I watched yer matches. Make sure ya let her know.”

You blush a little and thank her, making a mental note to tell Kanoka that. She’d probably find it extremely amusing, especially since she was the one who had given Atsumu your number in the first place (which, as you had found out months later, was because he had practically groveled at her feet multiple times. Dumbass.)

“Come meet my husband, (Y/N).” Mrs. Miya leads you into the living room, where an older, balding man with rimmed glasses is quietly flipping through a book. He gives a start upon hearing your entrance, clearing his throat and sitting up straight.

“Ah, hello!” Mr. Miya greets you. “I’ve heard a lot about you! From both Atsumu and the missus.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Miya.” You nod once in a respectful manner.

“It’s about time that he settled down with a nice girl. Make sure ya keep him in line though, got it, missy?”

“Of course I w — “ you start, but Mrs. Miya is already dragging you towards the kitchen. You smile apologetically at Mr. Miya, and he just laughs and waves.

“Osamu’s makin’ dinner right now. He is such a hardworkin’ and dedicated boy. Both of them are, really,” she rambles. “But Osamu sure can cook a mean meal. He and his twin always used to fight over who’s the better cook. But I betcha Atsumu hasn’t touched the stove since he left for university years ago.”

You debate telling her that Atsumu had made quite a decent meal for the two of you just last week to celebrate your eight-month anniversary (which you hadn’t even known he remembered), but before you can formulate the right words in your head you’re suddenly shoved in the path of an unfamiliar man. Well, not really unfamiliar. He has the same face as the boyfriend who you see every day, after all.

Miya Osamu is (as expected) the literal carbon copy of Atsumu; same strong eyebrows, same hooded eyes, same angular jawline. The only thing that easily sets them apart is his black, ruffled mess of hair in stark contrast with your boyfriend’s bleached blonde.

Mrs. Miya pulls Atsumu away from the two of you, demanding that he help her with some mundane task, leaving you and Osamu by yourselves in the kitchen.

An easy smile graces his lips as he sticks out his hand. “Hey, I’m Osamu. Honored to finally meet the famous (L/N) (Y/N).” You smile back, gripping his hand firmly and shaking.

“And I’m honored to meet the famous ‘Samu.” At your words, Osamu bursts out laughing.

“Man, I don’t really let a lot of people call me that, y’know? But if yer gonna be part of the family, you could be an exception.”

“F-Family?” You pause, your sudden confidence dissipating as fast as it had come.

“Naw, no pressure. Just sayin’.” Osamu casually continues with his task of shaping onigiri. “I can tell he really likes ya.” You raise your eyebrows in curiosity without entirely meaning to. “I mean, we’re twins, it’s like a sixth sense. And also he never shuts up about ya when we text or call.”

“I hope you’re hearing all good things?” you quip jokingly.

“Oh, for sure. If I didn’t know who you were I’d think that he’s talkin’ about the reincarnation of a goddess with the way he talks.”

“Seriously?” You snort, and Osamu just laughs.

“So I’d like to ask ya the favor of continuin’ to take care of him. Guy’s just a huge ass baby. I can obviously see that yer good for him, though. He wouldn’t have stayed for so long if he wasn’t serious.”

The two of you briefly glance at Atsumu helping his mother set the table. They’re currently debating over whether Atsumu should go back to his natural hair color and “Stop makin’ yer hair look like fuckin’ straw!”

“He is a huge ass baby,�� you start seriously, causing Osamu to smirk. “But he’s an honest and good person, so I’m not too bothered. I’ll take care of him, promise.”

“Thanks.” Osamu sighs, glancing rather fondly in his brother’s direction. “He’s an asshole, but at least he’s a redeemable asshole. I’m glad he’s finally got someone around to take care of him. Makes us all feel a little more relieved since he’s away from home.”

You suddenly feel warm inside.

Atsumu had been right; you truly didn’t have anything to be afraid of. The Miyas have been nothing but kind and welcoming so far, and they even seem to already have a positive opinion of you.

“Can ya help me carry these to the table?” Osamu holds out a plate of freshly-made onigiri.

“Ah, sure!” you accept hurriedly, taking the plate from him with careful hands. You take slow, calculated steps towards the dining room; the last thing you want is to accidentally drop any of the food.

Atsumu and his parents are already waiting in the dining room, and they all look up at you expectantly as you approach them with the onigiri plate in hand.

“Why, thank you, dear!” Mrs. Miya chirps. “Helpin’ Osamu out! How sweet of ya — “

She’s cut off as disaster strikes.

You trip on your last step to the table, causing a single onigiri to tumble off the plate and towards the floor. Your mouth drops open wide as you practically slam the plate down on the table and in practical slow-motion, watch the onigiri plummet down, down, down —

Then you dive.

You dive towards the floor, in the same manner as you do when you’re digging for a volleyball.

And you catch the rice ball in one hand, laying flat on your stomach. You have a moment of mental celebration; yes, you caught the onigiri! Then you realize that you look like a fucking idiot as you lay face down with one hand extended and clutching a rice ball like it’s your lifeline.

There’s a few seconds of agonizing silence.

You want the earth to swallow you whole.

There’s no way that you could ever show your face in front of Atsumu’s family or even Atsumu himself now; God you’ve never been more embarrassed in your life, and over an onigiri too —

“Nice receive!” Atsumu suddenly bellows, clapping his hands boisterously. “(L/N) does it again!”

His brother, who’s standing a few feet behind you with a platter of chicken skewers, pumps his free fist into the air and joins in with a “Hell yeah!”

Mr. Miya starts laughing the same loud Miya laugh that you’ve heard way too many times today, and his sons soon follow suit. Shame is still flooding your body, but now you’re realizing just how ridiculous the whole situation is and you resist the urge to smile at your own stupidity. As soon as Mrs. Miya recovers from her initial surprise, she comes to help you up, and you can tell that she’s doing her best not to laugh as well.

“Are ya okay, dear?” she briefly inspects you for any sign of injury.

“All good here, Mrs. Miya.” You smile, genuinely and comfortably, as Atsumu comes behind you to wrap his arms around you and peck your cheek, still chuckling with a small note of pride. “All good.”

“See?” Atsumu’s smug as hell as the two of you enter the hotel elevator on your way up to your room. Osamu had dropped you off so there would be no need for another cab. “I told ya that they’d fuckin’ love ya.”

“Why’re you rubbing in something like this?” You scoff, dodging when he tries to pull you into a crushing hug.

“Because I was right.” He smirks. You roll your eyes to heaven.

“Well, you can’t blame me for being nervous! I still can’t believe that none of them got upset at me for diving for a rice ball at the dinner table.” You groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“Nah, why the hell would they? It was cool. Yer cool, Miss National Team Libero.” He laughs, reaching for you again and this time you let him bring you close to him. “Besides, like I said before, who could ever resist yer pretty lil face?”

“You’re a hopeless asshole.” You sigh, and Atsumu of course just chuckles, his laughter vibrating against your ear as you press yourself into his chest.

“I’m yer hopeless asshole.” He pecks the top of your head. “C’mon, babe. It’s our floor.”

You hadn’t realized how tired you are until the two of you enter your hotel room and you see the large, inviting bed. You practically jump onto it, burying your face into a pillow. “Goodnight…” you mumble sleepily.

“Ya gotta go shower and brush yer teeth first, idiot.” A pillow smacks you in the side of the head, and you leap up with a cry of surprise. “Damn, don’t be so loud, sweetheart. It’s late, y’know. Don’t wanna get a noise complaint like last night.” You turn bright red at the reminder.

“Shut u-up,” you retort. “I told you that we shouldn’t have tried to do it on the balcony.”

“It was fun, though, y’know! An experience. And ya sounded like you were enjoyin’ it, anyway.” He chucks another pillow at you, and you yelp as it nails you in the face. “Now get yer cute ass over here, we’re gonna shower.”

“You can’t make me.” You stubbornly lay back down and close your eyes, and you had peace for all but ten seconds before Atsumu’s plucking you off the bed and settling you into his arms bridal-style. Your eyes shoot open in shock and you flail desperately. “Put me down!”

“No can do. I’m not sleepin’ next to yer stinky self tonight, darlin’.” Atsumu laughs as you scowl.

“The floor’s always open for you,” you snap.

“Aw, yer no fun.” He steals a kiss from you in the blink of an eye; the only evidence of there being contact at all is a tingling feeling on your lips. You feel your heart melt just a little more.

“Fine. After we shower, we go straight to bed. Got it?”

“ And brush our teeth. Yer mornin’ breath is bad enough.” He lets out quite an unpleasant squawk when you smack him lightly in the shoulder. “Alright, sorry, sorry.”

“Is this just your excuse to see me naked?” you tease him as he sets you down on the bathroom counter before immediately removing his shirt to reveal his muscled torso. He grins wolfishly at you and shrugs.

“And if it is?” Atsumu’s eyes are zeroed in on the small hickey he had left right below your collarbone last night, which is now visible thanks to the way your shirt had rumpled after he had practically manhandled you into the bathroom.

“Well, I won’t complain.” You follow his gaze down to your neck, before glancing back up to meet his eyes and raise an eyebrow at him. “If you’re going to make it worth my time.”

About an hour later, the two of you are lying in bed together, effectively tuckered out and finally ready to sleep. Atsumu’s strong arms are wrapped tightly around you like a protective cocoon as you snuggle your face against his chest. The slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat rocks you towards dreamland, and all the worries from the past day are slipping away.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu,” you mumble against his chest. He grunts tiredly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

There’s a small silence.

“...Thanks,” you finally say after a beat.

“Huh? For what?” he quips.

“For being patient with me today, even though I was so nervous. And for taking me to meet your family.” You crane your head to look up at him, contentment adorning your features. “I had a good time. I hope they don’t hate the idea of me coming around again sometime.”

Atsumu smiles that familiar smile, the smile filled with affection that others rarely get to see. His eyes are almost half-mooned with joy, his lips are curved up in genuine adoration, and his cheeks are flushed with color. You saw this smile for the first time when he set an incredibly low ball at training camp, earning the awe of everyone in the room, including yourself. Never did you think that you would ever have this expression of pure love aimed at you, nor did you think it would fill you with so much happiness every time you had the blessing of seeing it. He says nothing for a while, suddenly resorting to trailing kisses all over your face. You let him, closing your eyes peacefully as he showers you with his love, ending with one final peck to your nose.

“I'm sure they'd like to have you around again.”

And if Atsumu continues playing his cards right, he thinks there might be a possibility that in the next five or so years, you could truly become part of the family with a glittering ring on your finger.

Only time will tell if that possibility will ever come to fruition, but as you tilt your head up to give him one last kiss on the lips and whisper those three words to him, he knows for sure that he wants to continue building towards that future with you.

“I love you too.” He lets his eyes fall shut as well, before resting his chin atop your head and savoring the warmth of your body against his.

Only time will tell.

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