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kylosgenesis · 4 years ago

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Teardrops on fire

Synopsis:

Steve Rogers is the last Alpha of the an almost extinct Lycan pack. With only less than 100 members left. Steve must produce an heir to ensure the species survival and reduce the chance of attacks from others. Omegas are rare, and betas have a hard time producing children. Steves reality is finally setting in as his obligation of producing an heir faces a major set back.

Reader is the last suitable omega to mate with Steve, due to the fear of her daughters fate in the pack, her mother kept her hidden from the pack after her own exile. Only her mother, and Bucky's family know of her existence. Bucky is Steve's right hand man, and the packs best warrior! He and the reader developed a friendship and bond over the years, but age forced them to become distant.

What happens when she presents and her first heat cycle comes? Her body is in excruciating pain and a strong fever quickly overcomes her body. Facing the fear of her daughters possible death, her mom calls on the only person who can save her at this point, Alpha Steve! Bucky and the alphas friendship will be tested. The reader will be faced with her love for Bucky or her duty to the pack.

Warnings: Mentions of death , A/B/O dynamics

Chapter 3: Leave a light on

Bucky and Steve packed a suitcase of supplies, they both knew it was a race against time at this point. Her body would become weak without the pheromones of an alpha, her changing hormones wouldn't be able to adapt for her body's transition into her designation. Her own body would become her worst enemy right now, and if they didn't make it in time she could die in a pool of her own slick and sweat as her body struggled to accommodate the change.

That was one of the reasons omegas became so rare! Over the course of thousands of years their bodies began to change.Even with an alpha, sometimes the transition was too much on their bodies! Not many would make it. The omega’s that did were meant to be the strongest women the packs had to offer, their wombs strong , healthy, and ready to accommodate an alpha.

There was an old wives tale that would travel around the packs about a perfect mate, a bond so strong that would turn two souls and bodies into one. Soul that have been meant to be together since the beginning of time, like a puzzle piece waiting for it’s perfect match .Always calling for each other! One way or another prevailing.

People stopped believing in those kinds of stories a long time ago!

“Steve,Is that everything?” Bucky was loading up the bags into the truck. His mother and Katerina had headed back to the cabin, hoping to get a head start and try to explain to her what would be going on. I believe so! We still don't know what we're walking into… Steve furrowed his brow with his hand. His free hand on his lower back. “Hell Buck! I don't even know what i'm supposed to do! Hey I'm Steve, you don't know me but i'm here to take you away from everything you've ever known… also I kinda have to mate with you to save your life.``

“I know it doesn't sound like the best plan! But it's all we can do right now.” Bucky wanted to reassure his friend, tell him it was all going to be alright. Deep down he himself was feeling uneasy. He wanted to crawl out of his skin. Why did their nature have to be like this? He felt like they were not that evolved from animals when it came to heats. She was probably scared, he wanted to reassure his friend that she would be okay with him.

Bucky remembered leaving her all those years ago. It broke his heart! Deep down Bucky didn't even want to see her. He couldn't live with the look of disappointment she'd give him. Or worse what if she wasn't disappointed, what if it was like the years didn't go by between them. How could he handle seeing her gentle eyes, knowing he couldn't return the same look back.

It wasn't even a question anymore! Any dream involving her he's had for the past ten years had to be thrown away! He had to forget her smile, her laugh, her smell! She was never meant to be his and now more than ever he had to put his pack first.

Bucky gave Steve a reassuring smile and motioned to the truck, they were losing daylight and they both had a long night ahead of them. Both lost within their own thoughts!

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She felt like she was being torn apart!

Yes, she's had some bad cramps during her cycle, but this pain was different! If felt like she was being completely ripped apart from the inside. She felt weak and both terribly hot and freezing at the same time.

She had this strong feeling to just stay in bed at the back of her mind, but she just couldn't let herself waste away in bed waiting for her mother. Her mom had called winifred after this morning, within the hour they were both gone! They said they'd be back my sundown with some supplies and someone who might help her. As the pain intensified she readied herself to go get some things that could help alleviate her. She remembered her mom taught her this recipe with mint, nuts, and berries, back when she had first gotten her period; many years ago. Sometimes when she was out fishing or hunting and she felt her body start to feel strange, she'd look for those, and boil some water for a tea. It provided instant relief for her, and she'd go back to her day like nothing happened.

Gathering the strength and courage; she walked out of the comfort of her cabin for a quick trip to get those three things. If only she could just have that tea ready, it would make the time waiting for her mom to get back bearable.She knew the woods like the back of her hand, she'd done it countless times where she knew where everything would be.

As she trekked further and further into the woods! She remembered she'd spotted a new mint bush a few days ago, with the old one in the opposite direction she decided to just to just go with her memory and find that one.

Even though she knew these woods by heart, her pounding head and aching body made it a struggle for her focus long enough to orient herself.

She stopped to catch her breath and suddenly felt aware of the heat taking over her body. In the distance, the sounds of the running current of the creek, screamed for her to just get in to find some relief. All she wanted was just to dip her feet in and feel the water run beneath her feet.

The icy water prickled through her skin and it showed her more than the heat did, eventually her body and mind relaxed and she just closed her eyes for what felt like two seconds.

Suddenly the floor beneath was overtaken by a current, she was too weak to swim or fight .So she just let the current run its course; dragging along her weakened body.

In just an instant! She was harshly dragged away from the little bit of forest she knew!

She woke up hours later in the darkness!

The current had dumped her near the bank.

She could tell it was still territory, but it was all unknown and new to her. She definitely did not have the strength to follow the stream, so with what little strength she had, she started a fire! She laid down next to it hoping that morning would come soon, and give her the strength she needed to return home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they exited the car they could smell her, but it was lingering and faded. Bucky’s senses were on fire! That smell drove him insane. It awoke every muscle in his being, he’s partially glad that it wasn’t fully her, just the lingering trace of her scent.

He couldn’t do that to Steve. He had to mask his face, pretend she didn’t smell like air after you’ve been holding your breath for ten years.

“Where is she ?” Steve was worried, not only was this his omega, but she was a part of his pack now. His Alpha nature led him to worry about her, even if he didn't fully know her or understood her yet.

All Steve knew is that he felt drawn to her! He needed to protect her and care for her! Seeing the small cabin was like a punch to his gut! He couldn't believe that there were people in his pack living like this.

The roof needed work, the inside was just enough to be considered cozy, but not comfortable!. It was all patched together! He understood that it was the best that they could do with the circumstances, but his heart was swelling with pride at the idea of bringing his omega to his home. For her to finally know comfort, and not want for anything, he'd take better care of her than his own self. Her smell told him everything he needed to know about her, it was like she was made for him, and he was made for her,

Steve looked to Katerina and back to Bucky.

He couldn't understand how this place had been here for such a long time without him knowing about it, Steve remembered his dad's cruel nature. It wasn't beneath him to cast out a pregnant woman to fend for herself, but why hasn't she tried coming back once his father had died. Steve would have let them back! He knew why she was scared and distrustful of him. He probably reminded her of the person who took her life from her.

As the sky grew darker it became impeccably evident that something had gone terribly wrong. Bucky knew it! He had a bad feeling sinking at the pit of his stomach. No experienced hunter, like herself would be out past sundown. The woods become too dangerous and unforgiving even to experienced people.

Bucky taught her to know the woods. She could track.! If she’s out there she’s probably injured and in a bad situation. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ Clint, Nat, you guys will take the northern side of the river, there's a lot of territory there so I trust you guys will be okay as a team!,” Steve was guiding them to a spot marked on the map, he drew a circle through the section with with finger the over caressing his chin in thought.

“Tony, you will cover the west end on the river… over by this side” Bucky said over Steves planning and was pointing Tony to his designated research area.

Bucky and Steve had gone into a full missing persons mission. They had mapped out the territory and had called the strongest members of the pack. Most of them were a part of the packs defense team. They were all loyal to Steve and led by Bucky as the commander of the pack's small army.

Bucky’ s mind was not at the best place! He was slowly becoming more feral with desperation. “What if an outsider smelled her and crossed territories?” The thought was just too dangerous to entertain and Bucky kept going!

After hours of searching, the search party grew cold, hungry, and tired! Steve was called off the search party as the weather grew harsher, he was worried about his pack. They had families to tend to, and needed rest.

Steve was going in by himself, and Bucky wasn’t about to let his best friend do it alone. Going in just by themselves would be a risk, but they both knew how strong they had to be! They could rest later! She was all that mattered right now!

He wouldn’t stop searching till he had turned every rock on the territory! Every little corner if this damn reserve would be searched! He would find his ... Steve’s mega.

Bucky was the best tracker in his pack and even neighboring packs. If anyone needed anybody or anything found, Bucky was the best in the business. He was strong, determined, and could be ruthless with deserters who would try to run away from the pack after stealing or injuring a member!. Nobody had made it past the territory without Bucky catching them first.

They called him the Winter Soldier! While others found the harsh temperatures, and unforgiving terrain hard to navigate and specially survive; Bucky seemed to read the wind and knew how to use the weather to his advantage. He was the best there was.

If he could not find her he might as well never find anybody else in his entire life. He count fail her. He needed her!...She needed him!

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Her whole body ached!

She couldn’t get up from this one. She knew she’d only survive a few hours, maybe a day or two without food, and in this weather. She just placed herself inside a hollow trunk, and cradled her body to preserve as much heat as possible. She was thankful that the fever was a bit of a heat source, but cursed at the cold chills it gave her. Soon her body relaxed and she wondered what death would feel like.

She thought of her life.

Her mom.

It hurt so much when she thought of him! As she thought of him, her heart was agonizing in longing, but her body was slowly responding. Her fever had subsided, and she tried stepping out of the trunk. She stumbled and lost her footing, but just as she was about to collapse near the now extinguished fire, she felt a pair of strong arms break her fall.

She thought she was probably dead now!

Looking at her, where the most piercing blue eyes she’d ever seen! His hair now at his shoulders, and a beard forming around his face. He looked different than her mind had imagined him all these years. She allowed herself to relax in his arms, and her eyes filled with tears as she passed out; surrounded by his smell , and waiting for this delusion to be over.

They said death had a way of making people feel comfort, and happiness before the light at the end. But this seemed so real! she wasn't scared of dying anymore, she was scared he wouldn't be there if she woke up again.

Tags: @austynparksandpizza @connie326 @nerdgirljen @exposition-belongs-somewhere

#alpha bucky x omega reader #alpha steve x omega reader #alpha steve rogers #alpha bucky #alpha beta omega #omega reader #a/b/o #steve rogers #james bucky barnes #omegaverse

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peter-pan-on-neverland · 4 years ago

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Secretly soft: Part 2

Request: Felix being his stubborn self around everyone, including the reader but goes all soft when they’re alone.

Pairing: Felix x reader

Warnings: none

,< Part 1

He couldn’t believe this was happening again, did he not learn from the last time? Pan’s voice echoed around in his mind over and over again as if the words were bouncing around his skull, ricocheting until Felix’s head hurt.

Love make’s you weak. Love make’s you weak. Love make’s you weak.

Those fearsome green eyes stared at him even though the blonde boys eye lids were close, he could still feel his friends cold gaze on him even as lay in the comfort of his bed. For days the giant had been cold and distant, from everyone not just Y/n, the lost boy was away with the fairies half of the time trying not to think about the situation he was once again placed in. He struggled to find any motivation to do anything, Felix who was once an early raiser stumbled out of his tent around mid day only to be met with a disappointing glear from the leader.

“Felix,” The boys heart dropped as he heard his name being called from across the camp, words delivered in a familiar British accent, “Get over here, we need to talk.”

Whispers spread through the camp like a wild fire as curiosity overflowed from the rowdy group of lost boys, each one desprate to know what was happening. Felix could only try and ignore then as he slowly trekked over, back hunched and aching.

“What’s going on?” Pan asked in a stern voice making Felix flinch as soon as the words reached his ears.

With a deep sigh the boy finally mustered up enough courage to speak, “Nothing Pan, I’m fine.” Felix may not be the brightest tool in the shed but that didn’t mean he was stupid, he knew if he started to slip up Pan would punish him by punishing Y/n.

The leaders jaw locked in place, trying his hardest not to let his frustration get the better of him. He knew exactly what the problem was, and how to fix it.

How hard could it be? The king of Neverland thought to himself with a dark grin plastered on his face.

“I’ve given you your chance Felix and now,” He spoke, getting so close to the blonde giant he could feel Pan’s breath slowly travel along the nape of his neck “now you need to be punished.”

The second in command eyes spread no the size of sources and panic flowed through his veins, “No.” He whispered, barely audible but the green eyes monster heard his faint cries.

“What example would I be setting for the boys if I didn’t Felix?” The king argued, “now listen very carefully, I want you to grab that little distraction by the arm and throw her into the cage’s.”

Felix knew that Pan could be a narcasistic prick at times, but he never expected the boy to go this far, never in a million years.

The blonde giant had no idea how to process the emotions he was feeling, they just kept getting stronger and stronger, bubbling over the surface until he overflowed with emotion. At this moment the second in command had no shame, he didn’t care who saw him as tears streamed down his sharp cheeks, the lost boy had never been this vunrible in front of any one before yet somehow Pan made him feel safe.

Felix almost laughed at the irony, how can the person who’s making him feel misrble be the only person he feels safe enough to cry around, to show his true colours around.

“Pan-” The lost boy tried to speak up but his words only came out as a shaky rasp.

“You know what you need to do.” Where the leaders parting words before he made his way back to camp.

The brown haired boy let out a sigh of relief as he walked away, he hated seeing Felix like this, but he knew if that girl broke his heart then he would be much more broken. Maybe his punishment was a little harder than he had originally planned for it to be, but what was he to do? How else would he be able to help Felix, he needed to get rid of the problem and he needed to do it himself.

…

Felix gut twisted inside of him, every cell in his body was screaming out no. He couldn’t do this to her, not when he had finally realized how he felt, but the second in command knew that if he didn’t do it Pan would and who knows how rough he would be?

There she was, sat silent and alone on a log. Felix remembered the mornings when he would join her, laughing as they told each other the funniest stories while he playfully put his arm around her. Oh how he wished he knew sooner, he would’ve cherished those moments even more if he only knew where his heart ley.

There was that sinking feeling again, like his heart had suddenly turned to stone in an instant, weighing him down as if his own body was stopping him from taking another step. He wanted to just grab her and run off into the sunset but the giant knew there was no way off this island, not without Pan’s permission.

He needed to be smart about this and try to cause as little pain as possible. Ignoring the fact that his feet felt like they were made of led he slowly made his way over to her, one step at a time, catching the lost girls eye.

A smile beamed on her face as she saw he was coming over, eyes beaming and face glowing with happiness, but she was not met with the same expression.

“Felix-!” She happily exclaimed.

“You need to come with me,” He muttered, voice deep and moody.

Y/n’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, “Where are we going?”

He shut his eyes, wanting this process to be quick and easy, “Please don’t make me ask again,” he pleaded with her, “Just follow me.”

“Not until you tell me where we’re going.” She tested.

Felix knew he had no other choice but to take her by force, as much as he didn’t want too he knew it would be the only way of ensuring her safety.

Swiftly wrapping his long fingers around her forearm he yanked her up, dragging her away too little to no effort, she was as light as a feather. Oh how Felix wish he could just scoop her up in his arms right now, instead of forcing her into one of those cold, damp cages.

“Felix, what are you doing!” She exclaimed, trying to claw at his knuckles, desperately trying to get the blonde giant off her, “You’re hurting me!”

As soon as those words fell from her lips the second in command instantly let go as thought it were second nature to him. The boy had no problem when it came to a little bit of pain, but she made him weak, love made him weak.

Y/n’s demands never stopped the whole way through the jungle, he fought everything he had in him to not answer back. Why hadn’t he noticed how special she was to him sooner? Why was Pan making him do this? What was the point?

So many questions swirled around in his mind he didn’t even notice the tears streaming down the lost girls face as she, now silently, followed him.

His hand twitched in response, ready to reach out and brush every drop away with the pad of his thumb, but he couldn’t. He kept his eyes glued to the floor and his head down, he needed to remember that if he wanted her to be safe, he was going to have to put her in the cage.

The lost girl felt ace in her chest as the wooden door swung closed in front of her, there eyes met for what seemed like it would be the last time. She couldn’t stop the stream of tears from pouring down her cheeks, she didn’t understand what was going on. Had she angered him that much he would want to stick her in the cages?

Hesitantly, he began to walk away, slowly as if he wanted the moment to last a little longer. Felix’s knows this isn’t the romantic event he had hopped for, but still, he was just happy to be with her and never wanted to leave her side.

“Felix, wait.” She croaked out, voice raw from all the screaming and crying she had done prier.

The second in command came to a halt as if he order were from Pan himself, no words left his lips, but she knew she had grasped his attention.

Shuffling forward as best she could, Y/n wrapped her around around the bars of her wooden prison, “Why am I in here.”

He longed to tell her the truth, longed to tell her how she had done nothing wrong and that he loved her, If it were up to the boy that cage door would be broke off it’s hinges and she would be safe in his arms. Safe from Pan, safe from the boys, safe from everything that hurt her. But he couldn’t, he could only walk away, leaving her heartbroken and disappointed.

Day quickly turned into night, the stars shining bright against their navy back drop as Y/n tried to come to terms with what was happening.

Was this all just a dream, she thought to herself. One minute her and Felix were fine, happy, laughing and giggling with each other and now, she was locked in this cage.

Goosebumps bloomed up and down her arms as she looked around, nothing but darkness, except for something lurking in the shadows. Her heartbeat quickened, what was that? Why wasn’t it moving? Was it just her eyes play tricks on her?

As if on queue the bushes begin to shake, she scattered to the far side of her cage, trying to get away from it as quickly as possible, she was not about to become bear food.

She relaxed the second she saw it was only Pan, those sinister green eyes gave her a sense of comfort from time to time.

“Oh Pan, it’s just you.” She sniffled, looking up at the boy.

The king of Neverland bent down to her level, pureeing at the little lost girl through the gaps in the cage door, “You’re probably wondering why I’ve ordered Felix to put you in this prison, It’s because you’re making him weak and weak people have no place on my island.” The green eyes monster spat.

The lost girl had never felt so much anger in her life, her blood began to boil the moment those words tumbled from his lip and oh how he loved to watch her squirm. He mocked her, replying with nothing but a smirk.

“It’s not hard to tell that my second in command has fallen for you, and that my dear, is a very dangerous game to play. Love is weakness, love is a sweet spot and my boys don’t have sweet spots.” He declarerd proudly as he promoted his group of highly weaponized teenagers, “Now if anyone else on this island were to be in love with you, I would kill them on the stop. Felix however, happens to be very special to me, very special indeed. Which is why I must keep you locked away.”

Y/n was at a loss for words, she just couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wanted so badly to argue back, prove to him that love wasn’t weakness, it was strength but the little lost girl knew she would be wasting her breath. Pan wouldn’t listen to anyone else, no one but Felix.

Pan wasn’t here for hostilities, he wanted to make his point and leave, but she pulled the green eyed monster right back, “If I’m such a pain to you then why don’t you just send me home?”

“Oh, that wouldn’t be any fun now would it?” The leader chuckled darkly to himself, “I’m saving you for a rainy day.”

Before the girls very eyes he had disappeared into a cloud of green smoke, rendering her speechless,. What would she do? What could she do in this situation? Make a run for it, try and escape.

She shot down her own ideas once she remembered that no one left the island without Pan’s permission and he just made it very clear, he did not want her to leave.

…

Heavy footsteps are what rose the lost girl from her slumber as she rubber her tired eyes, the sun beamed down, almost blinding her as she looked up.

Jaw almost dropping once she saw the sharp features of a familiar face staring back at her holding a tray of food. She had thought long and hard last night about what she would say to Felix if she ever saw him again, but she didn’t accept to see the second in command so soon.

He smiled to himself, once again she was away with the fairies, paying not attention to what was going on around her.

No, the words echoed around the lost boys head so loud, you’re here to give her food and leave nothing more.

Heartbroken, the boy placed to plate of food just in front of her cage, he fought the urge to say something to her, say anything to her, but no words came out. Where would he even start?

“I know why I’m here.” She finally spoke up, the words made Felix stop in his track, slowly turning back around to face her in shock and disbelief.

“What?” He whispered to himself, still trying to process the words that had just fell from her lips.

“I know why I’m in this cage, it’s because Pan thinks I’m making you weak. But love isn’t weakness Felix, it’s strength and power.”

“You, you know I love you?” Felix said almost as if he didn’t want it to be true.

“Yes,” She beamed a smile spreading wide across her cheeks, “And I love you too.”

The second in command couldn’t hold himself back any longer after hearing those words, running to the cage, he flung the cage door open. Their hand intertwined as he desperately pulled her out of the cage and wrapped her up in his arm.

“I’m so sorry Pan put you in here, lets run away together, lets go somewhere, anywhere.” The boy rambled on and on making plans for the two of them to escape.

“You know we can’t do that Felix, not without Pan’s permission.” She shot him down.

The look of disappointment on the boys face was evident, she wanted more than anything to run away with him but they both knew it wouldn’t be possible for them to do.

“What should we do?” Felix asked, racking his brain for anything, just anything that would get him and Y/n off this island.

“Put me back in the cage.” The little lost girl insisted, almost as if she were stamping her foot down.

“What are you talking about-”

“Put me back in the cage, it’ll by us more time if Pan doesn’t suspect anything is wrong.” She explained, the second in command didn’t want to admit it, but he knew she was right.

“Fine.” He harshly spoke, “But I don’t like it.”

They both knew they didn’t have much time left before Pan would know something was up, as if there was a silent agreement between the two the girl nodded in his direction, voluntarily getting back into her wooden cage.

“I love you,” The blonde giant whispered, peering at the through the bars with a smile on his face.

“I love you too.” She said, watching as he trekked further and further into Neverland’s deep jungle, all the way back to camp.

The pair were flying as high as a kite, for once everything seemed to be on track, going there way, but all that faded as soon as she heard a familiar British accent.

“Well, well, well, that was quite the show.”

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Part 2 is up! I hope you guys like it just as much as you liked the last part! Xxx

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cutegirlmayra · 4 years ago

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Movie!Sonamy - A quick little thing

(Found here x Not mine!)

Scene 1:

As Amy reaches out, moving across the pavement of the deserted back-way road, Robotnik--who at the time is still on the mushroom planet controlling Metal Sonic remotely in a makeshift base he created from the portals he created to function like Sonic’s rings to get random objects to fall into the mushroom world--commands Metal Sonic, “Another one!? Just rotten luck... unless??? Metal! Seize the girl! I want her alive!”

Intrigued at the idea that the girl may have a similar power source as Sonic, he watches as Metal Sonic charges and grabs her before a weakened Sonic from fighting the new foe could take her hand.

“Noo...” He stumble back down as Amy is swooped up, crying out for him.

Robotnik’s drone with a screen of him on it flies over to where Metal Sonic hovers in the air, as Amy squirms to try and break free of it.

“Hey! Let me go, you big bully!” She summons a hammer to hit him, whacking him as Robotnik smirks.

“Metal, be sure to keep our little captive secure.” Then looks back to Sonic as though a warning.

Sonic stumbles to his feet again, holding his hurt arm that Metal slashed into and rolled him off his high-speed escape.

“Leave her alone, Eggman...” He wobbles slightly, squinting an eye.

“Sonic, I’m about to get very unlady-like. Please look away!” Amy continues to struggle, but upon Robotnik’s last command, Metal Sonic locks his arms and she’s perfectly stuck in the wedge therein. “Grr! Hurfh!” she stops with her hammer hits as it doesn’t seem to be doing anything but create nose and knock his head back slightly. “Okay, in 3.., advert your eyes! 2... oooonnneeee...” she holds the last count as she continues to kick her feet and try and ‘squirm’ through the cobra-like grip.

She finally flops her arms down along with her head, dangling before seeing Sonic still staring. Gasping, she continues to try and look like she’s making progress, “I thought I said look away!!! I can’t really let him have it if your watching me!” but it’s clear she’s fibbing.

Sonic worriedly looked between her and Eggman, then glares at Metal Sonic. “It’s me you want... let the girl go!”

She stops struggling, amazed that he’s being so heroic. “Sonic...” A moment ago, when he first met her, he seemed frozen time and excited raced over to greet her with a simple ‘hi’ and raised hand. But when she tried to get ‘closer’ to him through their time together, he seemed to almost try and get away from her...

So now... He seemed like he really did care.

Robotnik laughed, “Let’s first see if you can catch her...” The drone parted and shot out a portal beam that was heading back at light-speeds... then Metal Sonic blasted his jets and flew after it.

Robotnik wanted to test out his Metal creation, having used Sonic’s quill to construct him, mostly.

Sonic took off after them, pushing himself even though he was clearly beat up.

“Noo!!” Amy watched as Metal swung her to the side and fired at a pursuing Sonic. “You leave him alone!!!” She summoned her hammer again, but this time, Robotnik noticed something...

“Hmm... interesting.” he fired a laser to knock the hammer out of her hands, but she summoned it right back as it was flying away and shot it at him.

His drone blasted it out from it’s path towards knocking into it, and flew a little closer to her. Robotnik’s smirk tripled in size... (Grinch stole Christmas reference.) “How very... useful information to know. Metal! Come home!” his drone shot out towards the portal, but Sonic quickly bypassed Metal, surprising both of them, and then rolled up into an electric blue ball.

“Like I’d let you get away!” he charged into him and shred through the drone, exploding it with his electric energy before throwing an electric beam to Metal Sonic (Sonic boom reference) and yanking him out of the air.

Metal missed the portal, getting pulled back as Amy swung one last hammer hit to knock him further to the ground while she still flew off at an angle.

“Amy!” he raced to her and grabbed her, tumbling into the forest as the portal warbled and finally dissipated. (The chase is meant to resemble Sonic CD’s Metal Sonic race.)

“NOOO!!!” Robotnik slammed his fists on his makeshift console as sparks flew all around it. He breathed hard... before a light came on and he rolled his enraged eyes up to it...

Metal Sonic... was still operational. He sneered, typing in some commands. “No matter... I’m not out of this game yet..!” he growled in competitive spite.

Amy’s eyes were a bit dizzy-struck, but Sonic moved off of her, shaking his head and breathing hard. “You... You alright, Rascal?”

She puffed out some air, then her eyes closed and let her head fall to her side.

“Amy..?” He suddenly looked her face over. “Amy!” his blue quills sparked with light as his eyes changed color as well, showing the electricity.

She suddenly began giggling, and he pouted at realizing he was being fooled.

“Don’t you know..? This is when you kiss the girl awake!” she teased.

He rolled his eyes and lightly moved her face back to being against the dirt, using her to push off the ground and get up in a comedical way. “If I did that, I’d have to call out ‘clear’!” he was referring to his power and imagining her popping with electrical emergency like in hospitals.

However, Metal Sonic had turned his head and scanned their heart rates during that moment... there was a link between their heart rate increases, and Robotnik twisted one of the hairs on his overgrown mustache at it.

“All the readings and signs point to a very peculiar circumstance caused by teen acquaintance in the most obscure and annoying frequencies in young creatures... Maybe I can lure him to me yet.” He built up his villainous laughter as the mushroom base he created was shown in it’s full glory with drones flying everywhere around it like a bee-hive.

Scene 2:

Exhausted from out-running Eggman, the gang of Tails, Sonic, Amy, Tom, and Maddie were around a campfire by their camper they ‘acquired’ during their attempt to escape Eggman’s robots.

As Tom was speaking, Amy was growing more and more tired, her eyes drooping before finally it was clear she was practically asleep, and her head bobbed a certain direction as though she was about to fall over.

Seeing this, Sonic scooted over to her just as her head was about to topple over from it’s many deeper bows, and was caught softly by his shoulder.

Maddie, seeing this, cut off Tom by moving her arm out of her blanket and putting a hand on his shoulder, “I think we all just need a breather first, Tom. Then we can talk about staging inter-world battles.” She joked, but was slightly serious as Tom looked to see Tails yawning and rubbing his hurt side and head, as Sonic also looked over to him and patted his tail that was by him, as Tails smiled appreciatively over to him.

“Maybe we should all get some sleep...”

“Look at you, being so responsible..!” proud of her boy, Maddie got up and wiggled her head, striding over to help pick up Amy and take her back to the camper. “Looks like you took my advice.”

“Being nice... isn’t so hard when everyone needs you to save the world... again.” Sonic replied in his usual snark, but then looked sorrowfully back to Amy. “If Eggman learns about Tails... will he get put in danger too?”

“Well...” Maddie looked down, “People put themselves in danger... for the things they love the most.” She looked over to Sonic, eye to eye, before Tails and Amy. “These guys risked everything to escape and find you, right? That must mean they truly loved Longclaw... and believed that you would be the one to help free them.” She bobbed and patted Amy as though instinctively being motherly while she spoke, and Sonic just smiled, nodding to her.

However... when she turned away, whispering goodnight, he frowned and his ears fell back.

He didn’t want to be a hero, the responsibility of looking out for these two also didn’t make him feel like he was enough. He worried about Tom and Maddie too... he didn’t want anyone else getting hurt or put in danger...

Maddie placed Amy down and removed her blanket from around her shoulders, replacing it to be on Amy as she rested.

She dropped the blinds and smiled at the window above her, then stroked and curled her fingers around her bangs before setting off....

When red glowed from the window...

Metal Sonic had carefully camouflaged himself behind some bushes in the forest they were hiding in, and moved over to the camper.

Seeing her, he scanned her, but didn’t see any trace of a similar power to Sonic’s. Even so, he had his orders, and carefully used a heated beam to create a square out of the bunker, grabbing it before it could fall over and on her.

He carefully moved the square piece and maneuvered his dangerously spiked claws under her head and body, lifting her to then sneak away as his operation was complete.

However... Tails looked at his device, “Strange...” he rubbed his eyes awake, “Why is that... Sonic, look out!” he dived into Sonic as Metal shot a beam into the camper, exploding it like rapidly fired, circular bombs.

“Oh my-” Maddie stumbled up and ran towards the flames, but Sonic saw something red, like a stream of moving eyes, dip into the forest.

He glared, and ran after it, not looking back as Tom reached out to him. “Sonic!”

Scene 3:

Trapped in Eggman’s containment unit, not able to fully stand up and not big enough to lay down comfortably in, Amy hit the sides of the clear wall, trying to convince Eggman to let her go.

“Is that what you’re all gonna call me!?” Robotnik’s nose flared at the name.

“You smell like rotten eggs too!” she summoned her hammer and slammed it against the wall.

“Ah! Fascinating.” he bent down to look at the hammer. “Metal? Calm down our experiment.”

Metal, using the quill from Sonic, created a blue electricity that sparked on his raised hands and traveled along his metallic claws...

Amy recongized the power, amazed he had it, and scooted back Robotnik stood up, his glasses flaring with light when Metal seemingly off-camera shocked the unit.

Amy’s cry of pain was quick, and Eggman opened the container to pull out the hammer, showing Amy’s limp body. “I said calm, Metal. We aren’t sure if we can extract her power dead or alive yet... But even so, good boy.” he patted his metallic head, but Metal’s face was emotionless.

His red, blaring eyes peered at the hedgehog girl who squirmed back up to look at him, “I’ll make sure... you regret... this...”

He seemed to have a red light blinking on the side of his eyes, as though recording before she dipped her head back down wearily, and he moved over to Eggman, tracing his movements.

Eggman placed the hammer on the same device he used to measure Sonic’s power, but scooted the two rims farther back to make room to place the hammer. The container swung up over it like a clamped shell, and Metal Sonic watched him, still with only his eyes and head following his movements, as he danced and waited for the results.

He air guitar’d before the results came back faster than he anticipated.

Rushing over, he laughed once again, wheezing at times, pounding his fat stomach as though choking when the results showed that the hammer had an unlimited power source as well. “There’s morrrrreeee!!!” he shot himself up out of his chair and shook his fists in the air.

Wickedly Elated.

Scene 4:

Metal Sonic had showed Sonic Amy’s recording, and faking that she was dead, caused Sonic to think Robotnik had killed her and burst into electricity, charging after him through the portal, exactly what Eggman wanted...

With Sonic enraged, he didn’t realize he was being deceived, but soon enough fights, gets captured, fights again, and finds Amy to save her while he escapes.

-skipping along the dvd in my head lol-

Sonic was carrying a now awake and perplexed Amy while trying to escape the mushroom kingdom.

He came alone to avoid further conflict with Tom and Maddie, who he felt were being over-protective and sheltering, when he just didn’t want them to get hurt.

Metal Sonic pursued, but Amy kept complaining he wasn’t holding her like a ‘lady’ and he swung her over his shoulder.

“Better~?” He teased, already remarking how it wasn’t comfortable to run while holding someone, and also the fact that she didn’t make it any easier by squirming.

The two kept trying to figure out what the best position was as Amy kept firing off her unlimited supply of Piko Piko Hammers while Metal Sonic gained on them constantly, due to Sonic’s poor footwork and trying to adjust Amy in his arms.

Finally, he threw her up to dodge Metal Sonic charging at them with his claw swiping out, and then jumped to spin dash him into his engine on the back, before grabbing Amy bridal style.

As they raced away, Amy looked all around at her new position, and nodded approvingly, “This... This will do.” she wrapped her arms lovingly around him and gave him a sweet, adoring smile before looking back over his shoulder... and then bending her eyes in a regret-stricken arch at what she knew Eggman now had...

Scene 5: -Around the end-

Amy has her feet on a stalled and twitching right engine wheel on Metal Sonic, on his knees, head up as she had looped her hammer around and jammed it behind his neck/quills.

she held his sparking head and glared into his eyes, as Metal Sonic’s red dot blinked in the corner of his eye, revealing the same hologram he had showed to anger Sonic and have him react emotionally to try and extract his power. “I’ll make sure... you regret... this...”

Amy smiled, knowing he was recognizing that this was her fulfilling her own promise. Not through Sonic...

“You will never be as great as Sonic The Hedgehog...” Amy then rips his head clean off, but as he explodes, his head remains intact and flies off,... he was still recording her...

Forever on his memory now... (concludes Metal Sonic’s hinted jealous rivalry to be better than Sonic, seeing as Robotnik acted about Sonic, and wanted to be more than enough to please his creator... the ultimate Sonic.)

Sonic dives into the flames after her, a slow-motion of him worriedly reaching out as the flames of his exploded body envelop them.

They roll to the side, but Tails, Maddie, Knuckles, and Tom don’t see it. (They will later over hear them and that’s when Sonic will stride in like a hero, touched by their tears and loving speeches)

“We gotta... stop meeting like this.” Amy teased, breathing hard as he got up off of her, mimicking the tumble in Scene 1. “People like to talk.”

For once... he smiles at her charm.

“Well, you said so yourself... There’s only one hedgehog that’s your hero...” He bends down, and as she gets excited and closes her eyes, leaning up to kiss, he moves off of her.

She blinks her eyes and gasps, moving up to see him just walking off.

“Sonic!”

“What? Aren’t you waiting for him to scoop you up and carry you away?” He teased back, gesturing behind himself.

She shakes her head, “I think you know who my destined hero is.”

His eyebrows move up and he smiles. (This establishes their dynamic from here on out. Hero and admirer.)

-I got wind of a rumor about Amy being in the new sequel... I already made 2 scenarios of how she could be played, this is how Sonic could play back xD-

#sonamy #movie!sonamy #cutegirlmayra #sonic movie #sonic movie amy #sonamy prompt #sonic movie prompt #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sonicxamy

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poptod · 3 years ago

Text

The Breeding Kings, pt. 16

Description:

Notes: WC: 4.5k

The next day, you packed up and headed off on the road again. Ahk once again returned to periodically checking the map, as you had no guide except the river Euphrates and the lush greenery that bordered it. The trees and bushes allowed for a little more shade than the vacant valley did, something you made sure to appreciate, as well as the presence of drinkable water that flowed so near and readily. Yet even now you could see the river was at a relative low point––rings of water levels built up darkened sediment near the shore, and there were many visible rings descending down into the riverbed.

Only your strained breaths were audible from either of you despite the birds chirping overhead. A long night's sleep was nice, but it wasn't enough, and Ahk surmised that it would take a long while of resting till he'd be prepared to truly 'get going' again. Fortunately, he actually knew where you were going now––he found the map, pulled it out, and traced along the Euphrates down to the city of Babylon.

Ahkmen heard about Babylon in his classes, as well as from a few dinners his father hosted. He'd actually met some of the city officials, a fact he stewed over for a while, testing the bitterness of having to hide from people, and from his identity, once more.

As always, you were interested in what was to come; with what you could discover in a corner of the world you'd never been to. Ahk reminded you with a chuckle that you probably had been there before when you were first emigrating to Egypt. You responded that you didn't remember it.

"Let's see," Ahk hummed as he thought, staring at the ground attempting to remember what his teacher, Setet, taught him. "It's not actually called Babylon anymore, but the change is recent, so not everyone's been updated."

"So what is the name now?"

"Karanduniash. But it's interesting, how this came to be," he said with a grin he couldn't stop from spreading. You began to smile as well as you noted his fluster.

"Tell me about it, Aganu," you said, knowing you were allowing him to indulge in a little history.

"So... the original name was Babylon, in the Mesopotamian land at first. Then there was a King––Hammurabi, from the, uh.. Assyrian, or... no, Amorite land. Under his rule Babylon was built into a city that rivalled Nippur and eventually surpassed it in size and strength. Hammurabi was... an incredible King," he looked upwards, "and a bad man."

"I think that it is what you need, to be a good King. Not care for others," you said in a quieter tone.

"Perhaps so," he said, trying not to think about his father. "But nonetheless, under his rule, the whole of south Mesopotamia came under his rule."

"Where is the map?"

"Oh, here," he said as he pulled it from one of the side pockets, handing it to you. You jogged up the thin path to walk at his side, jostled slightly by your heavy bags as you stretched open the papyrus, displaying it for both you and him.

"So... here," you said, pointing to the southeastern land, separated from Africa by a strait.

"Yes. It's quite a lot of land, actually," he said before you rolled the map back up. "Anyway, Babylon has more recently come under rule of the Kassites. I've no idea where they're from so no need to ask. What I do know is that Babylon is still being fought over by the Kassites, Hittites, and Elamites, but all we really need to be worried about are the Elamites."

"Why? They are bad people?"

"Not inherently, but I don't trust their armies," he said, recalling several lessons about the sacking and raids of Mesopotamian cities by Elamites, and the torturous art that had come out of those tragedies.

"Ah, like Egypt," you then responded.

He wasn't sure why, but he detested your answer. Not that he could refute it very much––his father took rule over a vast amount of southern Canaan, and he didn't exactly do it politely.

"These lands have always been fought over," he said.

"It is dry and hot here," you said flatly, earning a chuckle from Ahk.

"Yes, and fertile, and beautiful. I have seen men lust over everything from women to... wine, and their cities, looking for those features," he said, carefully watching your thoughtful expression.

"I hate that," you said after a moment's silence.

"Understandable."

"I hate this world. I want to be... years and years from now, th.." you stopped for a moment, attempting to remember the word, ".. thousand! Thousand years, things will be good."

"I'd like to think that," he said, chuckling. "My father... lives in an old world. Sometimes I don't think he even knows other people aren't just empty vessels that relate to him. I think that's part of our problem, in this world. A lack of empathy."

"Many of the people we see are very kind," you said. He froze for a moment as he thought over his response.

"... I guess you're right," he said. "Maybe it's only rich people then."

You belted out a laugh, keeling over partway in a fashion that had Sephys meowing loudly at you in worry. She attempted to climb up onto your back only to fall off when you stood up straight. That only spurred you on more, till you were wheezing, and Ahk was laughing without even knowing it.

"She cares about you," he laughed as you trekked on.

"She put her claws in me!"

In the night you repeated your setup of camp, now settled into a routine that could pass by without words. You both gathered wood, and while you lit the fire, Ahk waded out into the river in hopes of finding fish. Once he caught one, you would cook it and he would set out the blankets and tarps to shelter you from any elements.

This particular evening was darker than usual, as the moon had disappeared and abandoned the stars. You gazed up, your neck kinked painfully but your eyes unable to tear away from the display spanning across the dome of the earth. Silence deafened the land with nothing but the steady, almost slow flow of the river near to you. Lightning bugs drifted about just as the stars did, but remained quiet and placid, only moving greatly when you disturbed them.

Distracted, you raised your hand upwards, waving it through a particularly large swarm of them that lazily drifted away as you moved. You giggled, catching Ahk's eye in time to see him slip in the water.

"I like this, here," you said as your hand fell into your lap.

"You want to stay here?" He asked, pulling himself out of the water with his makeshift spear in hand.

"Not for all time, you know that," you tutted.

"I do. I just want you to be closer to my home. It'll make it easier to see you."

You froze, but Ahk, involved in his fish-hunting, didn't notice your stunned silence.

"You are.. not staying with me?"

He looked up and his heart was instantly crushed by the weight of your worried brow. Freezing doom spread over him as he was overtaken with the thought, go back, go back, go back.

"Uh... well," he stuttered as he backpedalled, "I didn't... think you.. wanted me to?"

Nice cover, dumbass, he thought, bitter at his own lies. He despised lying to you, an ironic fact considering how much he always lied to you.

"Why do you think that??" You said in a voice that trembled, approaching him with the most heart-wrenching eyes he'd ever seen you bear. You took his hands and held them to your chest. "I want you near me. Always."

He stared at where your skin met, short-circuiting from your sudden earnestness. In truth he knew he needed to go back to Egypt. He longed too terribly for his home to never return, and that meant leaving you behind in wherever you decided to stay, a reality he had come to terms with after long days spent travelling. Staring into your eyes now, though, he knew abandoning you would be near impossible. Not just because his chest would ache in longing for you; you would hunt him down and beat an explanation out of him.

"Really?" He managed to choke out.

"Yes. I think you do know that," you said with a small, playful glare.

"Maybe," he mumbled.

"Get your fish, Aganu," you said, returning to the fire.

He nodded, wading back out into the river with his spear in hand. It took a little while, but by the time he caught a sizable enough fish, the fire was at a perfect point, the flames low but hotter than even bonfires. You roasted his catch slowly, once again tantalizing all three of you––you, Ahk, and the cat––back towards the fire.

You ate in silence, enjoying the crackling fire and the soft river that accompanied it. You finished first, and when you did, you cast the bones aside and reached for the wooden lute that got you through the Shamiyah desert. Soft notes joined the water and fire, matching the strange rhythm of the sizzling wood and ash. Ahk slowed his chewing to hear a little better, and eventually his food fell from his attention, which was becoming rapidly interested in you. It reflected an overall change in himself over the last several months––not that he noticed, since he thought he was always this smitten, but it was there with or without his acknowledgement.

The following day was filled with the monotonous footsteps sagging along the earth as you walked, heading towards the first signs of civilization since Mari. It was only in the day after that, and rather early in the morning, that you found the city towering above the flat landscape, Babylonian marvels of architecture jutting out into the clear sky. There were no walls surrounding the city itself, but a wall was visible surrounding what appeared to be either a palace or a temple, though you couldn't tell from your distance.

"That is Babylon?" You asked, sudden excitement speeding your gait.

"No, we haven't passed Rapiqum yet, so that must be Rapiqum," he said as he recalled a small, marked city on the map.

"Rapiqum?" You repeated. "You did not say on it."

"Not much to say. Invaded by Hammurabi a while ago and now it's part of Babylonia," he said, sighing.

As you got closer, the river got wider, and you both soon realized that Rapiqum was on the eastern bank––not the western, which was where you had been walking for the past couple days. You let out a long, exasperated sigh, your shoulders slouching as you paused in the middle of your step.

"How do we get it with this river?" You asked in a whine.

"... carefully?" He tried hesitantly, earning a small slap on his shoulder.

"We can not get boat in Rapiqum if we do not get boat to get TO Rapiqum," you said slowly, spinning around in slow circles as you searched for any huts or buildings on your side of the river.

"No shit," he muttered beneath his breath. "We can try and go back to a narrower part of the river and wade across."

"The water is too – too high," you said, motioning with your hand that the water level would come up to your chest.

"Right. Or, we could try and build a raft out of reeds and such," he suggested.

"We need more than what is here," you said, and you were also right on that, as there was only a small grove of reed plants in an outlet of the river.

Both of you stood for a moment, scratching your heads and tapping your chins in hopes of generating a better idea. There were few resources, most of them already culled by the nearby city's inhabitants, and most of them likely struggling from the apparent drought.

"Shit. I have an idea," he said, interrupting the silence. You looked up from staring at the ground.

"What is it?" You asked.

An hour and lots of reorganizing of your bags later, you were seated upon his shoulders, carrying one of your packs with Sephys inside. Her claws dug into your shoulder but you dare not move, too frightened of causing Ahk to slip in the water. It would do you no good to be bruised and for all of your belongings to be soaking wet. Even more precarious were the rocks he crossed––muddy, slippery, or overgrown with slick algae. The rocks shuffled around with the gentle current, so Ahk had to avoid tripping over those as well.

"Is this real as a good idea?" You asked, your voice wavering when he stumbled partway.

"I never said it was good, I just said it was an idea," he chuckled nervously.

Despite the rocks, the tide, and their waged war against Ahk's balance, he managed to get you to the other side and bowed his head to let you off. You nearly fell onto the ground, but you picked yourself up quickly as Sephys ran off.

"You are okay?" You asked, kneeling down as the shoreline was much higher than the water itself.

"Yes, I'm alright," he said with a dismissive hand. "Just need to get the other bags now."

He sighed, allowing himself a second's peaceful rest before he straightened again.

"Go Ahk!" You cheered him on, bringing a momentary laugh to him.

Three trips later and both of you were sitting on the dry, eastern bank, your legs held to your chest and Ahk's dangling so his toes just barely skimmed the water. He was still breathing heavily, surrounded by the bags he hauled across the river. Sweat formed on his brow, just enough of a sheen to cool him down in the noon sunshine beating down upon the land. He lay back, his hands behind his head, and his eyes closed in blissful rest.

Winds blew that carried the scent of flowers, twisting into and playing with the unruly curls upon his head. His hair hadn't grown an extraordinary amount, but it was certainly visible in matted, overgrown locks. Oh, well––just another piece of memory to connect to the blisters on his hands and feet.

"I am hungry," you stated, turning from the river to him. "We can go to the city now?"

"Alright," he said, but he didn't move. You waited for a minute before tiring of his game.

"Aganu!"

You kicked him in the shin––more of a push, really––and he let out an undignified yelp, scrambling to sit up.

"You are so mean," he gasped.

"Come, come," you said with a grin, tugging at his ankles.

He tried to shake his way out of your grasp, laughing when you pulled at him, crawling in between his legs and setting yourself on his hips, trapping him against the ground. It was then he halted his struggle, breath growing suddenly short as you smiled wickedly above him.

You fake-punched his chest, lightly pounding your fists onto either of his pecs.

"Get up, get up, get up," you said, and he shook his head against the grass.

"This is your method of getting me up? By pinning me to the ground?" He chuckled, turning away as he was unable to meet your eye any longer.

"You are a strong man," you said, still rapping your knuckles on his chest. "You can get up with me."

"Can I?"

He sat up, almost bonking his nose with yours in an act that burst both of you into giggles. Giddiness swarmed all round his head, blurring his racing heartbeat and the heat in his face.

"You are getting up now?" You asked when you both calmed down.

"If you get off me," he said.

You promptly did so, and the two of you threw your packs back over your shoulders, and marched off towards Rapiqum.

Since you had to go upstream in order to cross the river, you now had a good length of time before you would make it to the city. It was still visible in the flat, barren lands, acting as a beacon of hospitality the likes of which you hadn't seen since departing Jericho. Although, now it seemed less grand to you than it would've had you come out of the desert straight to see Rapiqum. You had water, you had a decent amount of food in your stomach, and neither of you had any outlying wounds.

"Now, we're in Babylonia, don't forget. Don't be surprised by the amount of people you see, and especially if they're racist," he noted, growing a little quieter as you reached the outskirts of the city, where the first distant homes were set up alongside soldier's barracks.

"Racist?" You repeated with a confused look.

"It's... confusing, but no one really likes each other. Babylonians don't like the Hittites, Kassites don't really like the Hittites, the Hittites hate the Babylonians, and.. you know. Everyone," he rambled on with vague hand gestures.

"And.. what do they think in Egyptians?" You asked slowly.

"I can't imagine they like us much either. I mean – me. I don't think they'd like me if they found out my ethnicity. Or you. Good thing we're wearing desert clothes," he said, looking you up in down in the scraps of cloth you wore to protect yourself from the heat and the sand. He was in a similar state.

"Yes," you said, but the look of worry remained, and didn't cease for a long while.

Streets formed in the rocky earth, leading into the city in convoluted pathways that whirled around homes and businesses. You and Ahk soon found yourselves amidst crowds that lined every street, most everyone standing as though they were in line––and, as you came to find out, they were.

Glancing to each other with questioning faces, you silently agreed to follow to wherever the people were lining up from, which led you first to the wall that encircled the largest building in the city. It must've been a temple that actually accepted the prayers of the commonfolk, or a palace home in which an overseer ruled the city from. The only gate in the wall was guarded by tall soldiers, beside whom stood a smaller man, bent over a large book enclosed with leather pages. He was muttering a recitation to the crowd piled into the gate opening.

"Come along," Ahk whispered, helping you pass in front of him with a hand on your back. He stared for a second longer before he followed after you.

The other side of the city was entirely empty. A couple stray dogs wandered around the abandoned streets, upon which empty carts and half-rotten bits of food lay on the sides, forgotten and left to rot. Several of the houses had sizable crates leaned against the other walls, most likely used by someone without a home.

Your pace slowed till you walked slowly down the streets, pressed into each other as your eyes flickered back and forth at the ruin. Ahkmen had never seen a city so quiet, and it struck a nerve in him, causing him to wring his hands.

Inside, some of the structures had bits of furniture and food––mostly dried fruits, some nuts, and every now and then part of a loaf of bread. You and Ahkmen both lit up at the sign of bread, but neither of you indulged. Something wasn't quite right, and there was some sort of answer within the long line of people streaming into the walled fortress. Ahk earned your confirmation before he set off back towards the other side of the city, your hand in his, and concentrated eyes searching the tops of roofs he passed.

When he found a building tall enough, he climbed the rungs of the shabby, wooden ladder, helping you up before he headed for the next ladder leading to the next highest roof. Long, wooden poles built into the building's roof aided in getting him up, and soon the both of you were peering over the encircling wall.

From your spot you could see the entrance from the other side, where the back of the scribe still recited verses to the citizens who watched on with blank, tired faces. The group in front of the listeners was walking forward, entering the large building where you could no longer see them.

"Should we try and get into the temple?" Ahk asked, gnawing on his bottom lip.

"It is if we want to know what is going here, or if we want to take their food and go," you said, turning your head from the walls to him.

"Yeah," he sighed. He waited a moment before he said, "do you want to know?"

You nodded almost sheepishly. A slow grin spread across his face and he chuckled, nodding as he moved from his knees to his feet.

"Very well then," he said, pulling you up, "let's get ourselves in, shall we?"

He gestured to the ladders and you giddily jumped your way down, landing on solid ground far faster than Ahkmen did. You both hurried over to the line, where you were promptly told by both guards and citizens that you had to go to the back, with no exceptions. Shrugging, you decided the wait couldn't be too bad, and two hours later, you were finally in the next group.

The sun had nearly set by then, and you could swear the bags on your shoulders were bruising you with their weight. You stepped towards the guards, preparing yourselves for the long spiel (that was apparently necessary), before the guards asked you a question that Ahkmen didn't quite hear correctly.

"I said, what sector do you live in," he said when Ahk asked him to repeat himself.

There was only one problem, Ahk realized, standing between him and understanding the guard. Ahkmen didn't speak the language the man was using.

"Uh..." Ahk cast a terrified glance to you, hoping that your tongue would work better than his numb one could. The guards were huge. He could hide him and his bags in one of their shadows.

"Um.. sector... 1..?" You tried, attempting your best at a casual expression that looked more like you were in immense pain.

"... you live in the temple?" The guard asked, raising a single brow.

Since when do they know Akkadian? Ahk thought, fear dripping like ice down his spine.

"Yes, we.. are here for cleaning," you said.

"Ah," the guard said, recognition in his eyes. "Go around the back. That's where the kitchens are."

You bowed and offered a small thanks, though you only half understood what he last said. While you might've known a passable amount of Akkadian to get by, you were by no means fluent, and had a hard time understanding people. Your heart thumped painfully in its' cavity as you wandered into the walled temple, scurrying around to the back like you weren't supposed to be there.

Well, technically you weren't supposed to be there, but you were assured that if they did put you to cleaning, you'd be able to get done whatever needed to be done. Ahkmen on the other hand was less confident in himself, and paled sickly when you came to the small door leading into the plain, sandstone temple, where remnants of paint coated the walls, bleached by the sun.

The inside was dark––dark enough that cleaners weren't especially necessary, since you could barely see the floor, much less the tiny specks of dirt and sand trailed in by visitors. Tall, thin poles led up to platforms that burnt tiny fires that illuminated, above all else, the ceiling, and the ornate paintings of the night sky that had yet to fade. Ahkmen stared up in awe, having to tear himself away when you moved quickly on. Rapiqum wasn't noted on most maps––it was a relatively small town, so the massive temple grew to greater suspicion in Ahk's mind, and he payed closer attention to the minute details he could see in the dim lighting.

Most of the paintings, while intricate, were shoddily made with lines that were almost never kept straight. It seemed more to be the work of a single man over many, many years, rather than the collective artworks a government could scrounge from its' more artistic citizens. The complicated halls which led to dead ends, small empty rooms, and occasionally right ways, eventually brought you to the center room where people from outside were filing in and out at an even pace.

While the hallways were lit by torches or bits of burning incense, this cathedral was lit by the light of sunset streaming through high-up windows. Beams of yellow and orange light streamed in, reflecting on the dust and smoke crowding the air, swirling round the rising curls of incense smoke.

You and Ahk hid behind the archway, watching someone obscured from view speaking to the citizens. His voice was low and frail, scratching against Ahk's ear as he rambled on in a similar fashion that the scribe at the gate did. The next group of people watched him in silence, and at the end of the long spiel––of course in Akkadian, which neither of you knew well enough to translate––the people formed another line that led up to the man. One by one they earned something and eagerly left, looking human for the first time. The old man must be handing something out, but from your nearby angle, you couldn't even see his face.

Ahkmen silently motioned for you to follow him. You did so, and he led you through the hallways encircling the center of the temple. Even the slowest drawn breaths sounded in echoes around you, an effect that left the old man's voice reverberating like ripples in water, repeating after itself in canon.

His face was slowly revealed the nearer you got to the temple's entrance, exposing first his raised hands, moving to a book not all unlike the one the scribe at the gates had, and eventually the the ashen face of an elder who looked already past death. Without even thinking, Ahk shot his hand up to cover your mouth when you began to breathe too heavily in the overwhelming shadows of the arches. He then pulled the both of you away from the arches, pressing your back against the furthest wall absorbed entirely in the dark.

Swallowing through a tight throat, he pressed his chest to yours, allowing his face to slot next to yours. He felt your breath catch, and felt how it released with nothing more than a warm shhh in your ear.

"What is he giving them," he whispered, barely audible even in his own head.

"Bowls... from a well," you breathed out. "Water."

His brow furrowed.

Water?

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

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arotechno · 4 years ago

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The Heartless: Chapter 1

Read on Inkitt

(A/N: HOOOO boy here we go, after five years of staring down the barrel of this thing it’s finally done! Important question: does it matter to y’all if I don’t post the text of the chapter directly below the cut in the future and just link to Inkitt? I ask because formatting for tumblr was beyond annoying and I’m not looking forward to doing it for like 20 more chapters. But if it’s necessary for accessibility reasons, I’m willing to do it.)

Chapter I: in which the story begins

When the winter first melted into spring, Basil and I crept to the edge of the woods behind our houses to pick wildflowers in the meadow. It was still too early for raspberries; in the summer, we’d fill our baskets and our stomachs with them until our mouths were stained red with juices. Our mothers would bake pies in the afternoon and we’d eat them in the evening, cleaning every last scrap from our supper plates with the promise of a sweet dessert. Now, the earth was still cool beneath our bare feet, our toes wiggling in the soft dirt. Once we’d filled our fists with flowers, we settled in the tall grass and began weaving together goldenrod, daisies, and violets into flower crowns and daisy chains.

Basil presented his work and beamed at me, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun with the back of his hand. “Take it, I want you to wear it,” he urged, thrusting the flower crown into my lap.

“But you worked so hard on it,” I replied.

He shrugged and brushed the dirt from his tanned knees. “I want you to have it,” he insisted, reaching forward and taking the crown from my lap to place it gently on my head.

I stared down at my own work in my hands; it was not nearly as beautiful as the one Basil had made. Some of the stems had split, and many of the flowers had lost some of their leaves and petals. I didn’t have the same steady hands that he did.

“In that case, I want you to have mine, too,” I decided, pressing the crown onto Basil’s head as a couple more leaves fluttered to the ground.

Basil grinned a mile wide, practically radiating sunshine with every inch of his being. “Now we match,” he beamed.

A peaceful silence fell over the meadow. Behind us, the trees rustled in the woods. Insects hovered in the grass, hopping from flower to flower; Basil jumped when a bee buzzed past his face to land in the flowering raspberry bushes that bordered the tree line.

“We’ll be friends forever, right, Basil?” I asked after a while, sheepishly adjusting my flower crown.

"Of course we will,” he responded. “Even when we’re old!”

“How old? Like, eighteen? That’s super old!”

Basil laughed. “Yeah! Eighteen and then even older!”

I smiled hopefully. “And we can still make flower crowns like this?”

“Ace, when we’re eighteen, I’ll still make you all the flower crowns you want,” Basil decreed with a grin. “That’s a promise.”

* * *

The warmth of the sun and Basil’s innocent smile faded as I woke up to last night’s rain dripping down on me from the cracks in the ceiling above. Bertrand stood over me, jostling me awake with one hand while the other held a vial of another one of his concoctions. I assumed I had fallen asleep after supper, because the dishes remained untouched by the washbasin and twilight was just pouring in through the window.

“Drink up,” Bertrand commanded in that voice of his that just begged to be disobeyed, holding the potion in front of me expectantly as if to remind me of the curse that filled the vacant space within me. He stared at me with piercing eyes over the top of his dull gray beard, swishing the vial back and forth for emphasis.

I grabbed it from his wrinkly hand and sloshed the red liquid around in disgust before shutting my eyes and downing it in one gulp, just to appease him. Even so, I could not resist the urge to lay a hand against my chest, but still I felt nothing. Shaking my head, I rose from my cot and pushed past Bertrand, grabbing my bow and arrow off the hook by the door and slinging it over my shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Bertrand called after me.

“Out,” I answered, already halfway out the rickety wooden door.

“It’s past nightfall, Ace, it’s dangerous out there!”

But I was already gone, walking away from the old house as the door slammed shut behind me with a satisfying thud.

Over the seven years I’d spent under Bertrand’s leaky roof, I had slowly become disillusioned with the idea of ever finding a potion strong enough to light a fire in my ribcage. Bertrand had tested a lot of his spells on me throughout my life, but the love potion had always proven to be the least effective.

But I suppose that is to be expected when you do not have a heart.

The Village of the Heartless was smaller than the town where I grew up. A single dirt road ran from the village gates to the top of the hill, through the neighborhood before coming to a stop at the edge of the woods that surrounded the kingdom of Amistadia. We were a close-knit community, learning to provide and look out for each other through thick and thin, through every harsh winter and plentiful spring.

Bertrand’s house stood at the edge of the village, where the hill dropped off toward the gates below. At the base of the hill stood a large, sturdy oak tree where I perched some nights with my bow and arrow on the lookout for trouble.

Nights in the Village of the Heartless were always dark, as we could never afford enough oil to keep all of the town’s lamps lit, but they weren’t always quiet. Kids from neighboring towns sometimes wandered the area at night, brandishing knives in their grimy hands, looking to stir up trouble. Tonight was no exception; as I neared the village limits, I caught a glimpse of a pair of boys making their way down the road, and a thrill shot up my spine. I climbed swiftly up the oak tree and perched in the shadow of its lush, leafy branches, fingers itching for my bow.

The pair dragged a child behind them by the arm, yanking her across the dirt with them as they cackled and cheered triumphantly at their prized catch. The girl held tightly to a canvas sack, trying fruitlessly to pull away from her captors.

“Get away, get away!” she shrieked, dodging a blow as she fell to the ground, clutching the bag to her torso desperately.

“What’s the matter, little runt?” one of the assailants sneered. “You’re not afraid of a couple of kids, are you?”

“I just wanted something to eat!” the girl cried out as a likely filthy knife narrowly missed her cheek.

If I had been in my right mind, I would have simply shot the pair of boys in the shoulder, snatched up the child, and run away, but Basil’s face kept flashing in my mind; an anger was boiling in my gut that demanded confrontation.

“Hey, ugly!” I shouted, pulling back an arrow and pointing it in their direction.

The kid with the knife froze, eyes darting up to my place on the tree branch. I was yards away, but I could see the glint of light from the last of the setting sun on the knife as his fist tightened around it. His partner, as well as the child still laying on the ground with the sack clutched to her chest, stared wide-eyed as he

“Who’re you talking to?” he grumbled.

“Doesn’t matter,” I quipped, hopping down from my perch and tightening my grip on the arrow. “Just let the kid go.”

“Why should I?” he retorted, nonetheless taking a step back when he saw the arrow aimed directly at his head. “Y-You’re not really going to shoot that.”

“How do you know?”

The other kid called out, “Hey, let’s just get out of here.” He was ignored.

Pointing to the little girl, Knife Boy puffed out his chest and continued, “There’s no way you’re really worried about her. You Heartless are all the same; you don’t feel a damned thing. No way you’d go out of your way to save her.”

I allowed myself a bitter, self-indulgent smirk, too brief to be seen in the thick darkness. “If that’s what you believe, that I am entirely emotionless, then wouldn’t it also stand to reason that I would feel no remorse about ending your sorry life right here and now?” I drew my bowstring further; the wood audibly creaked. “If that’s the case, then it would seem you had better start running.”

Knife Boy froze, taking a few steps back before he and his friend took off running in the direction they came. “Cursed bastards!” he yelled over his shoulder as he hopped the gate and disappeared. Once they were out of sight, I let my arms drop to my side and slung my bow back over my shoulder. I felt my brow furrow in frustration; life in the village had become so mundane that I was almost hoping for a fight. I quickly stifled that selfish thought, pushing it to the far recesses of my mind; the girl, who had stayed completely still on the ground throughout the whole ordeal, now scrambled to her feet, still clutching the bag in her white-knuckled hands. Now, no longer squinting through the dark, I recognized her immediately.

“That was awesome! How did you know what to say?” she beamed, slinging the canvas sack over her shoulder and wiping the dirt from a pair of ratty pants that fell three inches from her ankles.

"Petra, you’re the one who I keep hearing has been stealing food from the neighboring villages?” I asked her, and her expression soured immediately at having been caught.

“Yeah, that was me,” Petra admitted under her breath. Then, scrambling to justify herself, she added, “But I only do it because there’s not enough food in the village and I gotta eat something!”

I nodded, mulling it over. “Sure, now I suppose I can’t blame you for that, but stealing is wrong. You’re plenty old enough to know that.”

“Of course, I know that, but I needed food!”

“Fine, I get it, I get it,” I sighed. “Just don’t make this a habit, got it? I promised Annie I would keep you out of trouble.”

Petra pouted. “Fine,” she mumbled. I started back up the hill, with Petra trotting silently alongside me.

At thirteen years old, Petra had been living in the Village of the Heartless since she was a baby—which was still longer than I’d been in town—left outside the home of one of the village women, Annie, in the middle of the night. I’d met her several years ago, and she quickly became enthralled with my stories of life outside the village. Annie was dead several months now, leaving Petra to fend mostly for herself, though the community kept a watchful eye over her (Not watchful enough, I thought ruefully).

“You didn’t tell me how you knew what to say to that kid,” she urged, struggling to keep up with my strides.

“I used to spend time around those kinds of people a lot when I was a kid,” I explained, deciding to humor her. “I’ve learned how to turn their own words against them by now.”

I did not tell her that had I learned how to do so sooner, things may have turned out a lot differently.

* * *

I eventually sent Petra home with a warning that I’d be watching to make sure she didn’t get into any more trouble. When I crossed the threshold back into Bertrand’s musty old house, the palm of his hand came down hard across my face, leaving a sharp stinging sensation behind on my skin.

“What on earth was that for?” I yelped. Bertrand grabbed me by the wrist and dropped me into one of the rickety dining chairs in the center of the room, bearded face practically sparking with rage.

“You must not keep doing that!” he scolded.

“Doing what?” I asked innocently.

“Getting into confrontations with… hooligans! What else?”

“I did what I had to—”

“Don’t think I wasn’t watching, Ace! I could see the entire ordeal from the window!”

“Well maybe if you’d actually done something to help instead of just watching—”

“Unlike you, Ace, I value my life and am not going to get myself killed just to feel like the hero!”

I couldn’t help but bristle at his comment. Something in my soul shattered, and I sprung to my feet, the wooden chair tipping backward onto the stone floor behind me with a loud clatter that would have rang through the eaves had I not immediately erupted into theatrics.

“What do you mean you value your life? All you do is sit around making futile potion after potion and you still think it’ll work next time!” I clenched my fists at my sides, willing the confrontational energy in my veins to burn out before it swallowed me whole. “So maybe I need to tell off some asshole every once in a while to finally feel like I’m doing something meaningful. So you can keep pouring bile down my throat all you want, but I can assure you it’ll never make me happy!”

Bertrand’s face fell, and I knew deep down that I had hurt him, but I could not bring myself to feel guilty. He had it coming, I thought, stalking across the room to my cot by the window. I sat down on the thin mattress, kicked off my boots, and pulled my knees up to my chest.

“Ace—” Bertrand, having followed me, reached out a hand as if to lay it on my shoulder, but I flinched away from the touch and he retracted the appendage as if he had been burned.

“Don’t touch me,” I muttered, directing my gaze out the window at the dark, lonely night creeping across the landscape. “Just leave me alone.”

With a sigh, Bertrand retreated from my bedside, retiring to his back potion room to conjure his demons away, and I sat back against the wall, longing for home and the warm voices of my parents.

That night, I dreamt of Knife Boy, and his words reminded me of Carita, the girl who kissed me under an oak tree when we were younger and told me I was weird for flinching

Next chapter releases 7/25!

#The Heartless #aro #aromantic #aro writing #aro writers #writing #writeblr #aspec writing #aspec writers #op

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bastionbabble · 4 years ago

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Mushroom and Jinna Soup (The Kid, Zulf, 1816 words, worksafe)

The Kid squeezed Zulf's shoulder and returned to his peeling. Zulf wished for sleep like every star there ever was, but it wouldn’t come. There was the fever, yes, but a question shifted beneath the surface and begged to be let out.

"Kid, tell me… how does a Cael man know how to make mushroom and jinna soup? I don't think I've met a Cael who knew what jinna even was."

Zulf is sick, and the Kid helps; they have a conversation.

(my @supergiantsecretsanta gift for @tealeafraven hope you enjoy!)

(ao3 link)

A heat prickled at Zulf’s skin and threatened to swallow him whole. In the dark of his tent, strange things swam before his eyes, blotches of darkness outlined in colors never before witnessed. How very strange. He tried to move his blanket, tried to feel the cool night air to dampen the fire that burned across him, but his arms simply wouldn't move. Any will he had was turned to droplets, leaving him immobilized, a river stopped up with a dam. He tried to open his mouth to call for help, but no sound came. Just a breath of dust, flittering into the night on bats' wings. The world around him swayed like the sea and he swayed with it, drifting in and out of sleep until the brightness of morning shot through the tent and brightened his eyes.

“Zia,” Zulf finally managed to say, his voice a crackling croak. “I don't feel well.”

Zia groaned her awakeness and sat up. They shared a tent and each had a bedroll not far from the other. She shambled over to him and regarded him with bleary eyes.

“What's wrong?”

“I feel…” What does he feel? Something burning and sizzling, a fire sprouting into the wind. Hot, yes, and a lot of other things. But speaking anymore seemed too much, and the words fizzled in his throat.

“Let me check your forehead.” Zia pressed her hand to Zulf's forehead, then quickly withdrew it. “You're burning up! Don't go anywhere, I'm getting Kid.”

Going anywhere seemed unlikely at best. Zulf closed his eyes and that same swaying motion rocked him back and forth, back and forth, until he was almost lulled to sleep. But the tent flap opened and the light burst in once more.

“Zulf? Zia said you got a fever. You feeling alright?”

“Oh, Kid,” Zulf sighed. “Everything is… swimming. It's so heavy.”

The Kid sighed. "Zia, grab some pillows. I'm takin' him to the kitchen."

He came over to Zulf and leaned over to lift him, then paused. "Can I lift you? Won't hurt you, promise."

Zulf had never once feared that the Kid would hurt him. But that's too much to say, and instead Zulf settled on a nod. The Kid slipped his arms beneath Zulf and picked him up with all gentleness a mother cat would her kitten.

"Gonna be alright, alright? I'll take care of you."

Zulf wanted to thank him, but words seemed too heavy. Instead he closed his eyes and listened to the steady beat of the Kid’s heart. Ba bump, ba bump, ba bump. His heart must be larger than everyone else's-- there was so much to it, to him. It must be twice as large, just to hold it to bravery every day in worlds untouched by man and hold it in love every day on this little island they've made. What does Zulf’s heart sound like? Zia’s? Even Rucks’? What a strange thing the heart is.

The Kid carried Zulf down into the kitchen, a place of darkened coolness lit only by the dwindling fire in the oven. He laid Zulf on a pile of pillows put by Zia with a tenderness that made Zulf ache.

"Try an' get some sleep," the Kid said, before grabbing wood by the fire and feeding it into the barely burning flame. "Gonna work on some soup."

"What kind of soup?" Zulf asked, in a voice that mirrored the sway of his body.

"Mushroom and Jinna. Used to make it for my mama."

"With green kepper?"

“‘Course. Can't have mushroom and jinna soup without the green kepper."

Mushroom and jinna soup was a soup made commonly in the Southeastern part of the Tazal Terminals, the poorest section of the whole area. Jinna was a starchy but relatively tasteless root, but cheap and absorbed the salty flavor of the clear broth well. Kepper was a thin and leathery pepper that grew in great bushes wherever given the chance, and ranged from the pleasant spice of the green kepper to the sweating sting of the black.

"Do you have black keppers? I haven't… I don't remember the last time I had one."

"Think you're a little too sick for a black kepper," the Kid said. The fire in the stove burned brightly and prickled sweat across Zulf’s skin. "But once you're better, I got a few."

Zulf squirmed around in his blankets. He tried to move his arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but his body was too light to lift his heavy arm. "Kid," he said, with a voice steeped in more weakness than he cared to show, "I'm too warm. Please, move my blanket for me."

"Gotta sweat the fever out," the Kid said, and then disappeared out of Zulf's line of sight and deeper into the kitchen.

There was the clattering of pots and pans and a softly whistled song, something tinged with all the pain and love of nostalgia. Zulf watched the fire crackle and dance, the one point of brightness in the dim room. Sleep sauntered over and suggested closed eyes and a sweet peace, but the breaking heat that swelled beneath his eyes broke and sprang into a chill that shuddered his body in every place. Zulf curled as best he could, but that chill crackled into his every movement.

"Kid," Zulf breathed. "I need… I'm so cold."

The Kid’s whistling stopped. He had been standing at the counter and peeling jinna, but placed it down at Zulf's words.

"Fever's breakin', that's a good sign," the Kid said. He crouched down next to Zulf. "Ya want me to move you closer to the fire?"

"Please."

The Kid picked Zulf up and held Zulf close to his body, cradling Zulf as if he was a baby bird that fell out of a nest. He kicked the pillow pile over towards the fire, then laid Zulf back on it.

"This better?"

Shivers still trickled through Zulf's body, but the heat unbroke his shattered bones. "Thank you," Zulf murmured.

"Kid, tell me… how does a Cael man know how to make mushroom and jinna soup? I don't think I've met a Cael who knew what jinna even was."

The Kid shrugged, that practiced rise and fall of his shoulders. "Mama taught me how. Made it for me when I was sick, then I made it for her when she was. Just that."

Zulf closed his eyes and tried to remain tethered to the world. There were other ways to learn information; the Kid was dear, but sometimes he needed to be backed into a corner. "The missionary lived in a room in an Acobian temple. We lived there, together, up until the end. There was a big black kepper bush next to it. But when I was still young…" Zulf took a breath to steady himself. There was so much energy lost in talking. "There were two girls who lived nearby. They challenged me to a black kepper eating contest."

The Kid snorted. “S’pose that didn't go too good."

Zulf managed a laugh, almost. "It was not my best idea. These girls were twins; Yomiko and Zereva. Lovely girls. They had white hair. It's rare, but some Ura have it. Just like yours."

The Kid stopped his peeling. "Don't gotta be Ura to have white hair."

Zulf tried to sit up but his body remained stone. The Kid was big, bulky, with that bronzy skin so common among Caels. But that white, white hair of his…

"Your mother was Ura, wasn't she?"

There was a tight silence, a thin red line, and something like fear washed over Zulf and stuck in the crevices. The Kid resumed peeling the jinna.

"…Daddy said he didn't want to raise no half-breed. Mama used to say I looked just like him. Looked like a Cael man but got that white Ura hair." The Kid shrugged, but there was a tension in the rise and fall of his shoulders. "S'pose you ain't the only one who knows huh?"

"I imagine Rucks must, at least. Why didn't you tell us?"

"Didn't see a point. Ain't no reason to bring it up." The Kid finished his peeling and started on cutting the jinna into strips, the rhythmic chop, chop, chop rocking Zulf back and forth. "Don't need anyone else to throw me away."

Zulf forced himself into a sitting position with a deep groan. "Kid," he started, his whole world swaying, "my birth parents were Ura but I was raised more by the missionary than anyone else. I live both as Cael and Ura; I'm as much Cael as you are and as much Ura as you are. Blood will never stop us from loving you."

The Kid stopped his chopping and set down his knife. He sorted his words and moved them around in his mouth. Zulf fought the exhaustion of sitting up but soon collapsed back into the pillows. The world swam as it had, as if it had always done so and Zulf was just now realizing it did.

"... Think I should tell the others?" the Kid finally said, a carefulness to his words, as if he was testing a step on an icy lake to see if the ice would hold.

"You don't have to tell anyone anything you don't want to," Zulf responded, his eyes fluttering open and shut, sleep gliding over him and calling his name. "Just… we'll always love you, every part of you, and no heritage can ever change that."

"...Thanks, Zulf," the Kid said, and there was a weightlessness in his voice that Zulf had rarely heard. How much the Kid carried on those big shoulders of his.

But sleep was too close and the swimming works rocked him to sleep. This did not go unnoticed;

"Get some sleep. I'll wake you up when the soup's done."

"Thank you, Kid," Zulf murmured. "And… do you have Okimoki powder? I want it extra salty." A pause. "Please."

The Kid laughed. "Extra salty, just for you."

The Kid said more, but it was lost to Zulf. He floated away to sleep, and found a pleasantness there he had long forgot.

Mushroom and Jinna Soup

Serves 4

1 Lbs Jinna Root

6 Bolle Mushrooms, destemmed

2 Green Keppers, with seeds

2-4 Tbs Okimoki Powder

4 Cups of Water

Peel Jinna and chop into matchsticks. Destem Bolle Mushrooms and slice into strips. Half and slice Green Keppers into crescents, keeping the seeds. Boil water and Okimoki Powder until Okimoki is dissolved. Add Jinna, then cook until half-soft. Add Bolle Mushrooms and Green Keppers and cook until soft. Serve hot.

#bastion #bastion (game)#bastion game #sggsecretsanta20 #zulf #the kid

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kyanitegemverse · 4 years ago

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Reunion - Ark AU -

Here we are! A bit about two idiots in love seeing each other again.

some things will have links to help with some context!

It was dawn when Avry woke up. The little makeshift camp she and Bishop had set up was hardly comfortable, what with the two of them and Bishop’s Argentavis all huddled under one roof. She groaned as she sat up, her back making a loud snap as she stretched. How long has it been now that she and Bishop had been stuck away from the rest of their little group? She wasn’t too sure. The days all seemed to blur together since she woke up here. How long exactly had it been? A few months? It had to have been considering the lunar cycle had gone through at least a few times. Her brow furrowed, a frown making its way onto her freckled face as thoughts came rushing back. Sometimes it was impossible to not think of how she was so far from everyone she cared about. All it took sometimes was the littlest things to remind her.

A stupid pun here, an excited tangent there. Thoughts of orange fur, red hair Avry had dyed, and long black expressive ears came bursting through. A reminder of a friend who put everyone else before herself. A reminder of warm fuzzy hugs just when Avry needed them. Off key duets belted out at the tops of lungs without a care in the world, and tired blue eyes that hid the stress the twitching tail betrayed. Sure they made her sad and gave her a dull ache, wishing for nothing more than for one of Aurora’s bone crushing hugs. But this? This was different.

The Moon and stars were a nightly reminder of the one person she loved more than anything. The one person who had stuck with her through everything. It reminded her of countless nights in her teenage years, looking up at the stars and the full moon, wondering if she was looking at them too. The tears of joy the two shared at their first in person meeting at the airport that one spring. The many many nights they had stayed up way too late, talking about everything, nothing and all in between. Of how the sun shone on her skin and the wind tossed her hair during a Totally-Not-A-Date flight around town. Where one glance over at her with those violet eyes had stolen the breath right from Avry’s lungs and set a fire under her skin. If it weren’t for the whistling wind around them Avry was sure her pounding heart would have been heard. ‘Oh’ she had thought at the realization, and the questions that swarmed her mind as she could have sworn she saw the faintest dusting of pink on the shapeshifters cheeks. A first kiss, awkward and clumsy, with foreheads crashing into one another. Giddy nervous laughter as a second attempt is made with better results.

The thoughts made Avry wonder. Did the others know she was stuck here? Did they care? ‘No of course they care!’ a voice cried out inside, trying to reason with her doubts and worries. But what if they didn’t? We’re they looking for her? Was she thinking of all their shared experiences too? ‘Does she miss me like I miss her?’

Something hard and cold brushed against her shoulder, snapping her out of her thought spiral. She was curled up against one of the shack walls, arms wrapped tightly around her legs. How long had she been crying? Red eyes looked over to see the beak of Macaw resting gently on her arm. “Hey buddy don’t worry I’m okay.” Her voice croaked out, reaching over to give the giant bird a scratch on the top of its head. The poor thing had been through just as much as Bishop and herself. A broken wing was objectively worse than an aching heart, especially now that the bird was their only real means to getting back to their camp. Something did strike her as odd though. It had been at least a few days or so since the trip out to scout out the area just south of them. Surely the other three would have at least tried to look for them? She looked over at the bird again, noticing the expectant look in its eyes. “You must be hungry huh. How about I try and get us something to eat.”

With that Avry stood up, Stretching as best she could in the cramped space before grabbing her spear. Macaw turned to follow before Avry held up her hand. “You stay here okay? Make sure he doesn’t get hurt.” She said, nodding over to where Bishop was curled up. She made her way outside of the shack before the bird could attempt to follow her and set off hunting.

It didn’t take her long to scavenge a decent amount of the edible berries Colby had taught her about. “Red, Blue, and Yellow. Don’t eat the black or purple ones.” came the voice of the cook in her mind.

Avry rolled her eyes at the phantom reminder. “But what if I want to try the purple ones.” She eyed the one on the bush in front of her. It was just sitting there. Taunting her with its inability to be eaten. Just one wouldn’t hurt right? She could finally figure out why her stegosaurus was so wild about them. They had to taste good then right? Right? Was she really going to try this? Avry looked up and around, knowing full well she was alone and far enough away from the prying eyes of her group mates and their judgement on these sorts of dumb ideas. Yes. She absolutely was going to try this. Plucking the purple berry from the tree, she held it up, sticking her tongue out to give it a little taste test. Or at least she would have if a loud thunderous roar didn’t cause her to toss the thing as it shocked her out of her concentration. Whipping her head around to the direction of the roaring, her eyes widened as panic set in. It wasn’t hard to see the Carnotaurus in the distance, hell she could practically feel the ground shaking beneath her as it walked this way. If she moved on from here now she could avoid running into it for longer. “Alright I guess I’ll have to figure that out another time.” She muttered to herself as she wandered off, away from the destination of the titanic carnivore.

A few hours passed and Avry was beginning to remember why exactly she left the hunting side of this to Cheddar. These obnoxious birds had been ever so slightly out of her range for who knows how long now. Perhaps longer than Avry would like to admit. But she had them now. There was no escape for these little dodo bastards. Finally some good fucking food. Or at least it would be if she could just catch the thing on the end of her spear. She broke out into a sprint from her hiding spot at one of the little flightless birds. It squawked and bolted off in a random direction in a panic with Avry close behind. It ducked past a few trees and took a sharp turn to the right, missing the sharp tip of the spear by a feather. “Are you kidding me?!” the woman growled in frustration before continuing her pursuit of the stupid bird. Taking the sharp turn she found herself tumbling to the ground. She had tripped on something. A root? This was just her luck. The carnivore earlier, now losing her potential dinner? She frowned as she sat up. “Good one Rayne. Can’t even catch a bird that has no self preservation instincts. Oh yeah Avry Rayne, hunter of the year right here.” She stopped herself as she turned to look at what she had actually tripped on.

That was no root. Oh. Oh no. No.. that was absolutely a foot. A foot belonging to a rather familiar looking carnivore. “Oh fuck.” she muttered under her breath, unsure of what to do. How had she not heard the Carnotaurus coming? Was she really that focused on her hunt that she failed to see the danger that was so close to her? Wow this day really was getting worse by the minute wasn’t it.

It was about to get a whole lot worse as the dinosaur above her moved as she was stuck frozen to the spot. The creature let out a low rumbling, almost sounding confused as to what had just happened itself. Avry could only watch from her spot on the ground as it turned. This was no place to stay but she really had no chance of out running this thing. If she remembered all the books she had as a kid, this thing could run at a max of fifty kilometers an hour. She always wondered why that exact fact stood out to her after all these years. Maybe she was about to figure out why. Funny how things like that work out.

Given there really was no hope in running from this beast, the best hope Avry had at not becoming lunch herself was to deter it with the spear. Backing up against one of the trees, she used it to stand herself up, shaking hands pointing the spear up at the thing that was absolutely going to send her back to the camp in just about the worst way she could think of. The beast seemed to be eyeing her, a low growl in its throat as it stepped closer.

“S-stay back!” She warned, knowing full well the thing wouldn’t understand a word she said. “Trust me buddy I’m kinda lanky. “ She let out a nervous laugh. “Y-yeah that's right. I’m all stringy and gross and probably taste really game-y. There's really not enough meat here to be a snack! You’d be better off with a few dodos!”

The Carnotaurus was still looking at her, moving its head from side to side, as if it was curious in its own meat eating way. The low growl continued to rumble in its throat as it stood up a little straighter, causing Avry to flinch. She held the spear out, tensing her muscles and shutting her eyes tight. This was it. This was how she died. Died stumbling through unknown territory doing her best to survive. But as with most things it seemed like her best just wasn’t good enough. She hadn’t felt this small and helpless in a long time as she waited for the feeling of sharp teeth clamping down on her.

But the feeling never came.

In fact the low rumble had stopped as well. But it hadn’t wandered off or she would have felt the heavy steps of it walking off completely disinterested. So what was it doing? Why was it taking so long?

“Avry?”

The sound of a familiar voice made her heart miss a beat. Daring to open her eyes, the sight before her caused Avry to gasp. The large prehistoric predator that was staring her down in her final moments had all but vanished. In its place however, was a person. Someone she had figured she may never see again. Was she dreaming? Because if she was this would be the point where she’d wake up back in her bed at camp. She did no such thing however as she stared at the shapeshifter in front of her with disbelief, shoulders slowly lowering as the tension in her body was let go. Avry opened her mouth to speak, hardly able to form words due to the emotional whiplash she was experiencing.

“Avry is that really you?” The person called out to her again, sounding on the verge of tears herself. She too was frozen in place, mind racing probably much like her own was.

“Jess?” The name escaped her as if on its own, And Avry watched as the person responded. Straightening their posture a little bit, the hint of a smile making its way onto her face. Avry’s vision blurred as the mix of emotions came welling up to the surface. Without so much as a second thought, she tossed the spear to the side and broke out into a run. “JESSI!”

“It is you!” The shapeshifter exclaimed, breaking out into a run towards her girlfriend. The two met in the middle, practically crashing into each other as they met in the middle of the space that had been between them. Avry wrapped her arms around Jessi the moment she was able to, burying her face into the crook of the other woman’s neck. She was openly sobbing at this point, hands grabbing at the fabric of Jessi’s shirt, as if needing some way of knowing this was all real. A moment later she could feel the shapeshifter’s arms wrap tightly around her, trying to pull her impossibly closer. Time seemed to stand still for the pair as they shared their first embrace in who knows how long. No words could exactly describe the mix of emotions Avry was experiencing. How long? How long had Jessi been there just ever so out of reach? Could she have found her sooner? If she had only looked then maybe just maybe the pair of them could have been surviving together from the beginning.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” Avry said, voice muffled slightly from being up against the were-dragon's neck. She felt one of Jessi’s arms move, hand going to gently play with Avry’s hair - an action that did wonders for calming her down.

“I’ve missed you so much Raynedrop.” Jessi murmured, tightening her grip around Avry’s waist. “There hasn’t been a day that's gone by where you weren’t in my thoughts.” The shapeshifter let out a shaky breath. “Everyday and night I that I could was filled with wishing to have you in my arms again.” The shapeshifter chuckled at her own mushy bullshit. “And now here you are, stumbling into my life by pure chance once again. It's almost like you’re supposed to be here or something.”

Avry didn’t need to look at Jessi to know there was one of those lopsided grins on her face. “Oh can it you big sap.” She said with a laugh, moving to look into those stunning violet eyes. “I missed you too.” Sure enough, that lopsided grin had made its way onto Jessi’s face. She brought her hand to cup Avry’s cheek, thumb wiping away a stray tear. Avry leaned into the affectionate gesture, a lovestruck look on her face. For once the world was still. Nothing seemed to dare disturb the pair and their reunion and for the first in a long time, everything felt like it was going to be okay.

The shapeshifter let out a happy sigh, placing a gentle kiss to Avry’s forehead. “Just wait till you meet the others at camp. I’m sure they’ll be surprised to see another person with me.” Jessi said with a grin.

“Wait. Others?” Avry questioned, raising an eyebrow. Then the realization hit her. “Oh fuck. Jess I can’t go! Not yet. I still have to get back to the makeshift camp! I’ve got another person and an injured giant vulture with me. Ah shit Bishop’s gonna kill me if I don't come back with some sort of food. They’re both probably starving.” A worried look made its way onto Avry’s face as Jessi moved her hand to brush some of her bangs out of the way and tuck them away behind Avry’s ear.

“Woah hey it's all good! Tell you what. I have some extra rations with me. We’ll get something on the way back for the bird and all of us can head back to my camp. Okay?” The shapeshifter let go of the embrace, walking over to pick up the spear Avry had dropped not that long ago. “You also might want this. Just don’t point it at me alright?”

Avry turned to watch where Jess was going and put her hands on her hips at the remark. “Oh well excuse me. Need I remind you that you were a giant meat eating dinosaur? What the hell were you even doing transformed like that? I didn’t realize you could shift into dinos!” She took the spear as the pair began to walk back the way Avry had come from earlier.

“I couldn’t. At least not before waking up here. Now I can’t really change into anything else.” She answered with a shrug. “Now come on let's get travelling in style.” Jessi stretched out her arms as the changed, bright red scales flowing down them like a wave out to her hands which now had talons adorning each digit. A pair of wings stretched out from her back, ripping part of her shirt in the process. Lastly a long scaly tail with that iconic arrow head tail tip protruded from the base of the shapeshifters spine. “It’s been awhile since we did this so I thought it might be kind of nice.”

“You want to sweep me off my feet again? Aww babe that's so sweet!” Avry leapt into Jessi’s outstretched arms without hesitation, wrapping an arm around her neck. “Hope you don’t mind me backseat flying again.”

“Oh no don’t worry. I expect you to navigate at least part of the way back.” The response came with unfurled wings and a running start as Jess lifted off the ground, the pair setting off back to the makeshift shack. Together.

#Ark AU #Avry #Jessi #jessvry #Also! bishop is one of Rainydaze-rhys' characters #im praying this posts properly #ky writes

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ilguna · 4 years ago

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Metanoia - Chapter Fifteen (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 10.7k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

uhhh long ass chapter jfc

–

You tap the end of the spoon against the table, “Maybe more gasoline?”

Beetee gives you a look, “I’ve engineered these perfectly--”

“I’m literally from District Two, I manufactured weapons. Just add a bit more gas, and see what happens, it can’t hurt, can it?”

Beetee readjusts the glasses on his face, “I suppose not.” he gets to work, and you scoop some of the carrots onto your spoon, trying not to make a face when you force them down your throat. They’ve gotten cold from how long you’ve been stalling, “You’ve made molotov arrows before?”

“Well…” you make a face, and he turns his eyes to you, “I wouldn’t say that. I’ve… experimented that’s for sure.”

Gale laughs, “What does that mean?”

“It means I’ve illegally made weapons and sometimes started bush fires because of it,” you laugh, “And I’ve never been caught, either.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be in here.” Beetee mutters.

You roll your eyes, “As if I would willingly do work now. Just telling you to add more gas was a bore.”

Beetee screws the top back onto the arrow, being careless with it to see if it’ll explode or whatever. Which means that you should definitely put some distance between you and the psychopath here, you’re not too fond of being inside of a molotov. No matter how small that arrow is, there will be a ton of fire.

“Give it a shot.” you motion at Gale, “Seriously.”

“It won’t set the studio on fire?”

“You’re talking to the two engineers, here. Go ahead before I do it myself.”

Gale picks up the crossbow, and then takes the arrow that Beetee is offering him. While he prepares everything, you swivel around to face Gale, while Beetee has to turn the entire wheelchair to see.

“I’ve been trying to make a trident for Finnick.” Beetee begins, the two of you watch Gale prepare, the people on the other end of the room have fire extinguishers ready to put the fire out as soon as the arrow is fired.

“Don’t make it look like an actual trident, keep the design as close as possible to the one he had inside of the arena.” you scoop up another spoonful of carrots, “And make it hollow in the middle, it’ll be easier to move around--and you can make it compatible that way too.”

“Ready?” Gale asks.

“We’ve been ready.” you eat the cold, slimy carrots.

Gale fires the arrow, and right when it hits the bullseye, it explodes into fire. The entire target, the wall behind it, mostly the floor and some get onto the ceiling too. The crew runs forward, putting out the fire before it can spread across the entire room.

You look at Beetee, “See? Not too shabby.”

“Know any ways to make them waterproof?”

“Wax, water rolls right off of it. Don’t lay it on too thick, and you’ll be just fine.” You set the empty tray onto the table, “

“They should have sent you down here sooner.” Gale says, coming back over, “Imagine how much faster all of this would have been made.”

“Beetee would have gotten fed up with me, if he isn’t already.” you say, stretching.

“You’re not too bad to be around.”

“You only like me because I make your weapon engineering much easier. I’m able to catch your mistakes before you even make them.” you tuck your legs in.

He ignores what you said, moving on to Gale, “How’s Katniss doing?”

Gale doesn’t give much of an answer, “Recovering.”

“Let me guess, she’s still mad at you?” you raise your eyebrows. For this, he tells you to shut up. You shrug, getting back to the sketch you were working on for your own personal weapon, “Hey, if you can’t see how out of line you were, then that’s your deal.”

“How was I out of line?”

You place the sketchbook on your knee, “Dude, you called her fiance weak for doing what he could to stay alive. Obviously you two are still pretty close after that, but I wouldn’t have made a comment like that.” you pause for a moment, looking at Gale, “Then again, you don’t know what it’s like to be under a microscope, you can run your mouth all you want, because you were nothing but a coal miner.”

Gale practically rolls his eyes, “I know what it’s like, Katniss had to start calling me her cousin.”

“Katniss was the one being watched, don’t flatter yourself.” you go back to what you were doing.

“She’s right.” Beetee chips in, “(Y/n), I mean.”

“Right.”

The sound of boots on cement makes you look up, expecting Gale to be the one walking away. He doesn’t normally like to take shit from you or Beetee. Coming down here is like a safe place, allowing him to vent and blow steam when he gets to test out the new fancy weapons.

Gale stands right where he was before, which means that it’s someone else. And since Beetee can’t walk, you turn around in the chair to see who it is.

It’s Finnick. His hands are in his pockets, with a gleeful smile on his face, “Good afternoon.”

Gale is just as suspicious as you are, “What are you up to?”

“What was I up to.” he corrects, coming to a stop behind your chair, “It’s a surprise.”

Beetee makes a face, and then wheels himself around so that he’s facing the table again. As he gets back to work, you resume critiquing Gale, and Finnick finds where he wants to be.

“Gale, don’t get me wrong, I can sorta see where you’re coming from, but you need to see it from our perspective too.” you drop your leg, “Let’s compare you to Peeta, since you were doing that already by saying you’d never say what you said.

“He had absolutely no clue what the fuck was going on. Peeta didn’t know that there was a plan to get him and Katniss out of the arena, he didn’t know that Coin was planning on using Katniss as a symbol. The only things he did know was what the Capitol fed him to get him on their side.

“And if you still can’t see eye to eye with it, imagine a gun pointed to Katniss’ head. If you so much as step out of line in a way that Snow doesn’t like, he’ll shoot her. It’s not his family, friend or girlfriend that he’s killing, it’s yours. And if you don’t cooperate after Katniss, he’s grabbing the next dearest thing to you.” you lean back in the chair, “And before you say shit, Snow literally did that to me twice. First was right after I won my games and he killed my entire family, and the second time was when we found Tanith dead in a chair. It’s a little different for Tanith, because she was already dead, but he still tried to use her against me.”

“Okay, but what were they threatening Peeta with?”

“His life, for starters.” Finnick says, “And likely his family too.”

Gale doesn’t say anything after that.

“How’s this design?” You offer the sketchbook for Beetee, and he takes it.

“We could probably start this now.” Beetee says, “Mind doing something for Finnick, too?”

“Sure.”

He hands it back, but Finnick takes it before you’re able to grab a hold of it. Sighing, you look up at Finnick, watching his face as he looks over the page, “These are swords.”

“Sai’s.” you correct.

Finnick gives you a look, “But it says right here--”

“--that it’s basically a sword, yes, I know. Normally they’re used to disarm someone--as I showed you before. But I want some that are actually sharp. Blunt force trauma is fun, but what’s even more fun is spilling someone’s guts in front of them.”

Finnick hands the book back, “Sword.”

“Sure.” you cross your legs, “What are you here for, other to annoy me?”

“Keeping an eye on you three for the next couple of hours.” Finnick pulls up a chair of his own, mirroring your stance.

“Sounds exciting.”

Everything falls back into rhythm. Beetee goes back to tinkering on arrows, having Gale use the decoys. And the times he’s not shooting arrows, he’s sitting in a chair talking to you guys. You cough up a couple of sketches for Beetee, hoping that it’ll be good enough.

You might be the one from District Two, but that doesn’t mean you actually put things together. The legal age to actually get into the warehouses is eighteen, and since you went into the games at sixteen and won, you never really had to work. You’ve sat on money for your entire life. The only people that worked were your parents, aunts and uncles and some of your cousins.

Those same cousins taught you how to put things together before your games--obviously. During family get togethers, you’d all disappear for a little while, which is when they’d take the chance. They always thought it was so cool to pass on forbidden knowledge, and have it all be a secret between you guys.

They had this secret stash of gadgets inside of a log, and they’d fuck around with it until it turned into something dangerous. Honestly, the first thing you learned from them was the molotov, and when you threw it on a rock, it exploded and the dead grass around it caught fire.

Cue you all scooping the gadgets into your shirts and taking off behind the houses to get as far as possible. Your older cousin had a backup spot not too far away, you dumped all the shit there and got back to the house in record time. Before the firefighters had even left their stations.

It’s a wonder why you weren’t caught, cause that wasn’t the first time that area specifically had been set on fire, and it wouldn’t be the last either. The firefighters definitely had an idea of why it would always set ablaze, but never pursued it. After a while, they started to monitor the place on extremely hot days, thinking that it was the sun that was starting the fires.

If only they had known that it was a bunch of teenagers doing that shit for fun.

After a while, Beetee gets tired of the arrows and starts over to the crew to begin making the sai’s. While they’re heating up the metal, he gets to making the hilt.

“I feel like we’re doing more work than we have to.” you look at Beetee.

“Do you want it to be fucked up, or do you want it to be done right the first time?” He raises his glasses above his eyes when he looks right back at you.

“The first time.” you sigh.

When you get back to work, Finnick moves in closer, curious as to how you’re designing his new weapon. Every now and then he’ll point out the practicalities, and weighing in on how he would rather it be built.

“This doesn’t even look like a trident anymore.” you hold the journal away from your face, and turn it so it’s long-ways since the entire trident spans over both pages, “It’s basically the opposite.”

“But think of it this way.” Finnick reaches over, touching where the blades of the trident are, “Initial stab, right? But the rest of this does more damage.”

There’s a spear point at the top of the trident, which isn’t the problem. That’s pretty normal when it comes to the design. However, instead of wanting all the other blades facing up and towards it, he wants it downwards.

“And you can even make it compatible!” Finnick grins.

“At least we agree on one thing.” You pass the journal to him, “Go ahead and show Beetee, he’s the one in charge.”

Finnick goes over, and it’s basically halfway across the room, since Beetee is hovering over the crew’s work like a hawk. He wasn’t playing around when he said that he would like it to be perfect the first time around.

“Finnick’s into you.” Gale says.

“You say that like he’s not my soulmate.” you give Gale a look, “Also, I’m not into Finnick.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not a teenager and I don’t date people right after they broke up with their girlfriends.” you turn back to Finnick to see that he’s discussing the weapon with Beetee and a crew member.

“If there was no Annie, would you have dated him then?”

You squint, “No.”

Gale laughs, but doesn’t say anything because Finnick is heading your guys’ way again. He drops the journal in Beetee’s workspace on his way over, “Beetee will start it tonight.”

“Cool.” you get up, picking up the lunch tray, “Am I free to leave now?”

“Yes,” Finnick says, but he makes a point to stay in front of both you and Gale.

“See ya later, Beetee!” you shout, “Send someone if you need my help.”

He waves, and then goes back to hovering.

Finnick starts up the staircase first, and Gale walks beside you, “Any progress on Peeta?”

Gale rolls his eyes, you can feel it, “Same as he was before. I saw him before coming here.”

“Katniss still saying no?” you look over.

Gale nods.

“That’s reasonable, I wouldn’t want to go near him either…” you trail off for a moment, and then laugh to yourself.

Finnick glances over his shoulder curiously, “What is it?”

You chuckle a bit, “Out of everyone, I’m definitely last on the list of people he wants to see.”

“Why’s that?”

Your smile is small as you look at your feet, rather than up at Finnick, “I nearly killed Peeta.”

“After the birds? I know--” Finnick says.

“No, after. After you had been pulled out of the arena, did I tell either of you that story?”

Gale says no, which is expected, but Finnick thinks about it before answerings, “We talked about emotion when you first got here, and how intense it was.”

“Well, after I left the lightning tree, my real goal was to go downhill and straight for the cornucopia. I thought that if the jungle were to burn, I would need to take my chances in the middle. On the way, I found a livid Peeta, and a strangely calm Johanna.” you smile, “Peeta started screaming at me instead, and Johanna urged me not to do anything.

“But then Peeta backed me into a rock, so when I got up, I punched him twice. Kicked him a couple of times while he was down, and then Johanna stepped in--” Finnick has slowed down now, he watches you, “--and naturally I knocked her out with a single right hook, since she’s… weak to say the least. She hit her head on a rock on the way down, and I thought I’d finish her off later.

“As for Peeta, it was just him and I.” the smile develops into a grin, “I was about to rip him apart--and I mean minutes from doing it. But then the peacekeepers came and I thought that it would be better to leave the situation as it was.”

“You’re… sadistic.” Gale says.

“I’ve heard it all before.” you say, looking at Finnick.

“At least you didn’t kill them.” Finnick says.

“Peeta knew that I was about to. Doesn’t matter if I did it or not.”

Gale laughs now, “You should go visit him to see what he says.”

“He’d probably get mad at me for not killing him when I had the chance. I’m surprised he didn’t strangle me in that hovercraft.”

“The tracker jacker venom fucked with his head, he probably barely recognized you.” Gale says.

At the top of the staircase, Finnick stops you, “We’ll see you later, Gale.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m going to see Boggs.”

You salute as a joke, getting an eye roll in return. Finnick purposely waits until Gale is gone, and then he moves out of your way, “You’re getting better.”

“At making people like me?” you ask, giving Finnick a look, “You know, a genius once told me that I’m not as dislikable as I think.”

Finnick raises his eyebrows, “A genius you say?”

“Maybe not a genius.” you laugh, and Finnick joins in, “So what were you up to?”

“You’ll see in a couple of hours.”

“Is that why we aren’t getting off on the floor we normally do?” you stare at your feet.

“We’re heading straight for the medical floor to Johanna.”

You stop on the stairs, and Finnick gets a couple of steps above you, “Did you not just hear my whole story?”

“The worst Johanna will do is run her mouth about the fact that you didn’t kill her when you had the chance. And if you don’t believe me, you can ask one of the nurses. We’ve heard her speech a couple of times now.”

“Then can I opt out and go to the dorm instead?” you start up the stairs again.

“You’re really going to leave me to talk to Johanna?”

Your eyebrows draw together, “You’re the one that wants to see her!”

“Come on, we see Johanna and then we go to the dorm right after, I promise.” Finnick says.

You hold out your pinky for Finnick, and with a slight chuckle, he pinky promises you. The two of you resume your journey up the stairs, and then he says, “Unless we talk for too long.”

You press your lips together, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. He laughs anyway.

When the two of you reach Johanna’s room, you hang by the door, not really wanting to go inside. You don’t like the look of the room, much less the idea of being back inside of it. Ever since you’ve been granted the freedom, you’ve made a point of not coming back to the hospital--or infirmary--floor, no matter the reason.

The other day, you cut your hand on a blade down in the workshop. The crew had wanted to call someone down to come and take care of you, and you barely stopped them in time. Over your dead body, would you be brought back here to sit and wallow in white for a couple of days.

Especially over something as childish as a cut. So, you found the first aid kit, cleaned out the wound and Beetee stitched it up for you. The crew was a little surprised how calm you were during the entire procedure but the only thing you had to say was ‘high pain tolerance’ after all your years of bullshit.

So being back here makes you nervous. As if someone will pop out from one of the walls and tie you down to a bed for absolutely no reason. You’re perfectly healthy, and the nurses and doctors knew this. Even after you had tests that came back negative for poison in your system, you were required to stay.

Finnick and Johanna’s conversation is surprisingly normal and boring. There was absolutely no reason for you to tag along, except for Finnick’s own request. The only reason why you’re here is to be nice.

As if Finnick’s read your mind, he looks at you, “(Y/n) been helping Beetee out in the workshop lately, designing weapons.”

Johanna’s eyes drag over to you, bored of it already, “She’s being helpful for once?”

You stare at her.

“She’s done quite a lot, Johanna.” Finnick says, looking back at her, “She’s the one that opened the conversation about rescuing you and the others from the Capitol.”

“For her own benefit.” Johanna laughs, “Because she can’t stand being alone. It’s why she’s kept you around so long, you know? Not because she likes you, but because she needs another soul to harvest. She’s like the fucking grim reaper.” she looks at you now, “A heartless murderer.”

You take a deep breath, and then a smile spreads over your face, “I should have killed you when I had the chance. At least then, there would be one less leech on the morphling supply.” you spit, “You deserve everything that Snow gave you, the waterboarding, the near-drowning. It’s a shame that he only kept you alive so you’d suffer and become nothing but another downer on everyone around you.”

Finnick’s head whips in your direction, clearly not expecting the outburst. You’ve been so good for so long, but there’s something about Johanna that just gets you steaming.

“I should have stomped your head into that fucking rock in front of Peeta.” you seethe, “And then I should’ve beaten Peeta to death, because you two weren’t nearly worth sacrificing my life over.” you shake your head, “You’re nothing but another morphling addict. Another victor that couldn’t take the fucking heat. If I were you, I’d just kill myself from how embarrased I’d be.”

Johanna’s been smiling at you the entire time, like she wanted this sort of reaction, and so you finish it off, “It’s probably how Blight felt too.”

Her smile drops, and her hand is reaching towards the needles in her arms before her feet have even hit the ground. You stand your ground, allowing Finnick to get her to stop because she does some real damage to her veins.

“(Y/n)--go!” Finnick’s angry, and he glares at you over his shoulder.

“My fucking pleasure.” you spit, leaving the doorway.

It was worth it. Every word that left your mouth was fucking worth it. Being nice to people is such a fucking chore, especially when it’s towards people who don’t deserve it.

You stand in the stairwell for a moment, thinking about where you’d want to go. But there’s really no place that’s safe if Finnick comes looking for you. The workshop and dorm are an obvious place, as well as the stream you stumbled upon. He’ll check with Boggs and Gale--and there’s no one else here that likes you.

You hate it here.

You thought you would be able to make this place feel like a real home and maybe even like it, but it’s not worth it. This whole place isn’t worth it to you.

Everything inside of you is a frenzy.

You have to go home.

You start up the staircase, knowing that seeing Plutarch and finding a ride would be the place to start. He might not be happy about it, but there’s really no need for you here. You’re not doing anything besides designing personal weapons that Beetee likes and doesn’t like.

Occasionally you’re genuinely helpful with dumb shit, but that’s the extent of it. Other than that, you’re miserable. The freedom you have isn’t actual freedom.

You hop up the last couple of steps, and round the corner to the door to the control room. You practically throw it open, nearly letting it hit the wall, when your hand appears between the crack to stop it.

At your appearance, a few people look over. The only eyes who stick are Boggs, Gale, Haymitch and Plutarch.

“Where’s Finnick?” Gale asks.

“Not his owner,” you go down the steps, eyes on Plutarch, “I want a ride to District Two. Your next hovercraft is mine to take.”

Boggs stands up, crossing his arms, “What about the workshop?”

“Boring, Beetee has it under control.”

“And Finnick?” Haymitch asks, “I thought you were just liking it here--”

“I’m a liar.”

Gale sighs, “Tell us what happened.”

“Johanna and I are going to end up killing each other the next time we come face to face.” your eyes land on Plutarch to see he has an eye on his watch, “So unless you feel like cleaning up a dead body, I’ll take one free ticket to District Two.”

“The next hovercraft is leaving in fifteen minutes.” Plutarch looks up now, “I’ll call in and let them know you’re going.”

“Does Finnick know you’re doing this?” Gale asks, “He’s going to be upset if we have to tell him--”

“It’s his fault for getting attached to me.” your face is serious, and then the smile spreads over your face, because of the irony of that statement. After what Johanna had said… “He’s your problem now, good luck.”

You go up the steps, heading right out the door you came in. You can’t take the staircase to the top, so you make your way to the elevator instead. You press the button, waiting patiently with a smile on your face.

The hovercrafts that they’re using to get the supplies to and from District Two are the slow type. District Thirteen is in no rush to get the crates there, so it won’t be a surprise to you if it takes more than just a couple of hours for you to get there. Or if it makes stops along the way.

The elevator arrives, you pull up the safety bar, and then step inside, pulling it back down. You punch the top floor button with your thumb, then you go to stare as the floors disappear beneath your feet.

At least back home you don’t have to act and lie for the happiness of others. Especially if your first and only stop is going to be your house in victor’s village. And if you need groceries, it looks like you’ll be hunting for food to eat. Or you might actually have to go into town and ransack the already destroyed buildings.

Most of the people that used to own the shops are probably dead, or they won’t be returning back home for a while. The entirety of victor’s village is going to be a graveyard--there might even still be rotting bodies inside of the houses. If the smell is too unbearable, you could always bury the corpses yourself.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

At the top, there’s someone waiting on the ramp. You don’t bother waiting for them to tell you to hurry it up, you start jogging immediately. The faster you get on, the faster you can take off.

“I’m ready.” you say when you get to the ramp.

“Good, take a seat and strap in.” the man follows you in.

The whole district is in ruins.

The last time you were here, everything seemed to be in near perfect condition, apart from the obvious looting that had taken place. The broken windows, and the wood splinters in the gravel could be easily looked over. But it’s much harder to see this place as it once was.

Most stores and houses that were made out of wood, and had been passed down from generation to generation have been burned to ashes or their cement flooring. There’s nothing left of them, not the furniture inside, and definitely not the foundation. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that they were vacant lots.

If they couldn’t burn, then they were bombed. Chunks of cement and brick have now joined the mixture in the gravel. The roofs have long since caved in, and just one gust of wind makes the walls shudder. All it would take is one more bomb dropped in this area, and it all would come crashing down.

The air around you is hardly breathable too. Before you had stepped off the hovercraft you were given a mask--not the same gas mask that you’d used during the tribute center invasion--and a pair of sunglasses that would help you see through the debris and smoke.

It’s almost like fog, but so much worse. It’s smoke from fires that can’t be put out, and it’s from the bombs that are from your own district. The loyalists and the rebels are still fighting over this place. Katniss’ visit here hadn’t done much good, in fact you’d say that it made it a lot worse.

As you wander through the streets towards victor’s village, you come up with a lousy plan that’ll likely get you killed.

Coin had thought that sending Katniss here was a good idea, but it wasn’t by any means. Katniss got a bullet to her ribs, which bruised a ton of them, and put her right back into a hospital bed. They clearly didn’t think about what would happen if you mix people who don’t mind the games, with someone who’s leading a rebellion.

You’ve seen the speech, and as heartfelt as it was, it’s not what they want to hear.

Here’s the way you saw it at first; this girl from the poorest part of District Twelve is kicking up a rebellion that’ll likely destroy the system that’s making District Two rich, and the favorite. District Two thinks that they’re going to get everything taken away from them. Their houses, nice clothes and furniture, the good paying jobs.

You would all much rather send in the two kids a year--mostly because your children are prepared ahead of time, and therefore the career districts have nothing to lose--than take the risk of getting everything taken away. The Capitol absolutely adores you guys, with all that you supply them.

So, instead of having the girl that’s leading the rebellion try and convince the loyalists that they’re on the wrong side. You have someone who’s lived in the same luxury as them do it instead. How is Katniss supposed to understand how you all feel? She despised the games, while the rest of you adored it.

The outsider districts don’t understand the need for luxury and favoritism. They’ve lived on the hated side of the Capitol for a long time. The Capitol expects them to underperform in the games, so that’s why they don’t ever see the spotlight until they get a winner.

Anyway, you’re going to get to your house, change into something that says ‘living in luxury’ and then march your way to the justice building. There, you won’t ask for any sort of protection but an escort there instead. You won’t carry any weapons, you won’t pull on a bulletproof vest.

If they shoot you, then they’ll have made their choice very clear.

The gate entrance to the village is all sorts of broken. You barely push the metal door open, and the entire thing falls apart in your hands. You have to prop it up against the fence, being sure that it won’t fall over before you move on to go inside. Then, you waste no time with a quick jog through.

The fountain in the first part of the village is dry. The cement is no longer grey, it’s black from the amount of fire that must have washed through here. On the tiles that line the bottom, there’s melted coins. You’re tempted to reach in and pick one out when you realize just how bad of an idea that is.

You continue down the stone brick path after that, taking in note of every house that you pass. The doors are slightly ajar, most windows seem to be shattered, and a couple are burned down to the foundation. Most still stand though, Sorcha, Enobaria, Brutus, Tanith and Zavian’s seem to be in good condition.

As for Lyme, her house is completely gone. You have an idea that it might be because of the fact that she’s helping the rebels, and some of the loyalists must’ve gotten behind their lines to come and burn hers down specifically. As for the others, there must be a bigger story behind it.

As you come into the third part of the neighborhood, you cross your fingers as you hope it’s not like Lyme’s. You just want a moment inside of a clean house, to be able to go upstairs and find out that there’s running water. Then you’ll take a shower, get dressed in fancy clothing and put on makeup as if there isn’t hellfire around you.

It takes you a moment to find it, because all the houses in this section are still standing. And then you realize that your house is the only one that looks fresh. It hasn’t been touched by all the ash and smoke, it’s still as bright white as the day you received it. Perfect condition.

No windows are broken, the wood and cement show no signs of it being on fire at any point in time. The door is shut tight, a little stuck so you have to rattle the handle until it comes loose. You swing the door wide open, standing in the doorway as you wait to see a mess.

But it’s clean. Of course, the house has collected dust, but there’s no blood. There’s no broken vases, or stuffing all over the floor. It’s how you left it.

You shut the door behind you, locking it for good measure. As you go inside, you can’t help but to look around and gape like you’re on a house tour. Nothing has been touched, which is the part that baffles you the most. Both the inside and outside are great.

For a moment, you’re not sure why you’re so surprised that nothing had happened--apart from the fact that the whole neighborhood is disgusting. And then you remember the last time you came home from the games. With the house torn apart with dead bodies frozen in time.

“He seriously fucked me up, didn’t he?” you ask, laughing to yourself.

The house does smell pretty bad though, and the scent only gets stronger the more you head towards the kitchen. You have to plug your nose, strictly breathing in and out through your mouth, blinking away the tears that form in your eyes. It’s just so strong…

Going through the doorway, you take your time to look for anything that might be off. There is nothing, but you’re sure that it was coming from here specifically, and the second that you test the water with a breath of air through your nose, you gag. You go back to breathing through your mouth, even though you can taste the toxicity.

It’s not gas, that’s for sure. It’s something else…

The kitchen, the smell, the fact you haven’t been here--it’s the fridge. The food inside of the fridge and the cupboards are likely rotting. You can picture the mold in your mind already, and you shiver a little. Deciding that it’s better not to investigate further, you head straight upstairs instead.

On the way to your room, you can’t help but to pop open the doors and take a look inside. It’s just the paranoia now that’s making you do this. You don’t think you’ll find anyone in here, it’s just the thought of someone maybe hiding and waiting for you. A house like yours shouldn’t be in perfect condition, not after everything that’s happened.

And yet, there is nothing. Not even in your master bedroom, and not in the bathroom either. Despite this, you also lock your bedroom door, stripping on the way to the bathroom. And when you get inside of there, you lock that one too. For a second, the water in the shower runs cold, but then it turns warm.

While you let it heat up a little more, you take a look at yourself in the mirror for the first time in a couple of weeks. The mirrors that they have in District Thirteen are practically useless, they might as well not have them at all. You can barely see your face in them, and they’re permanently fogged over. At first, you thought that there was a protective film, until you realized that they were just shit quality.

Your fingers dance along the scars that cover you from head to toe. You turn your body to get a better angle, only to be disappointed when they continue. You force yourself to lean onto the counter, even though you’re so incredibly uncomfortable now, but curiosity is what’s fueling it all.

Then you’re able to see that the spider bite scars exist on your face too. They’re faint though, not too noticeable. What is noticeable, is the fact that there’s a scar that’s right beneath your eye. It’s so small that you can see it, even with you leaning over the counter.

You wipe the fog off the mirror, hopping onto the counter. You’re basically pressed against the mirror with how you’re seated as you desperately try to see what the fuck is beneath your eye. Wiping the mirror again, you take your chance to see.

C.S.

Your face twists as you back up, trying to think of who has those initials. Much less who would leave it on you like they’re marking their territory. You slide off the counter, rubbing beneath your eye, wishing that it’ll just go away, but it won’t.

Then it clicks, and you almost wish it hadn’t.

Coriolanus Snow.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, mouth hanging open as you watch the fog take over the mirror again, and your naked figure is covered up as a result.

He marked you. Snow fucking marked you like you’re his pet.

Your hand has swiped the vase off the counter before you’ve realized it. It isn’t until it’s shattered, when you’re jumping out of your skin. Even then, you’re still captivated by the amount of rage that’s running through your veins.

“Motherfucker!” you yell, digging your nail into the spot, gritting your teeth when it hurts. But it has to go. It has to be defaced. You won’t be seen as his. You don’t belong to Snow.

It’s a relief when your bare nail breaks skin. Though, more pain spikes in that one spot, and even in your eye a little bit. You lean on the counter, squeezing your eyes shut and giving yourself a moment to recover before you head into the shower.

You can’t fucking believe this.

You had always told yourself that you would be saving this dress for an occasion that you’d never be able to replicate. No weddings, funerals or parties. No victory tour, no get together, no reaping. You had to save it for something that would be groundbreaking, something that would change the game altogether.

At first, you didn’t want to pick it up for even this. Then you remembered that you have a chance of dying, and thought that was an event you’d never be able to replicate. Because you’d be dead.

And now that you’re walking to the justice buildings, holding the dress up so that it doesn’t get caught in the gravel and what lies inside of you, you’re beginning to see that you’ve got to make it count. Not the dress, but this entire encounter. If they don’t end up killing you, they’re definitely not going to let you come back again. Not peacefully, at least.

All you have to do is make them hesitate. Make them think for the rebel’s side for a second. That’s all you need. A moment of apprehension that they’ll never be able to take back. And since you’re pretty good at playing devil's advocate, this will be a walk in the park.

Seeing a sudden blast of dust and dirt heading your way, you make a home behind a building, aiming the umbrella you’re holding towards the corner that’s closest to you. It takes a moment before the dust storm comes through. The rocks pelt the plastic, and they attack your bare legs.

Since the umbrella is see-through, you’re able to tell when it dies down. You don’t wait to make sure that it’s over completely, because you never know when another gust will roll on in. At some point in time, you recognize the streets that the scouting group had brought you through, so you take that carefully.

You’re still fairly surprised that Paylor and Lyme hadn’t taken your statement of a survey group into consideration. And if they did, then that didn’t last as long as you thought it would. It’s literally only been two to three weeks since you were here last.

You guess that just means that they can’t spare the people as much as they could before. Which says a lot--that they’re losing the battle they swore that they’d be able to win. Coin said in one of her speeches that it wouldn’t be easy, and it would take a while. And here you are, thinking that you’ll be able to change their minds in a day.

“Watch this.” you smile to yourself.

You go around a corner, only to stop dead in your tracks. Standing right in front of you are some pretty armored people, holding a gun pointed straight at your chest.

“State your name and business.”

“I see Lyme’s upgraded her shitty guards.” you give him a smile, “(Y/n) Rosecelli.”

He lowers the gun, “You’re supposed to be in District Thirteen.”

“It’s not as glamorous as it seems.” you say, continuing your way down the alley, “Quite boring. Is Lyme in the justice building?”

“Yes, I can bring--”

“I’ve got it.” you cut him off, leaving him behind you.

“I wouldn’t recommend going that way.”

“Whatever!” you shout, going right out.

The steps to the building are pretty wrecked, but there’s just enough stone for you to be able to go up them. You hike the dress up a little higher, stomping your heels when you step, as you try to get the gravel and glass off your shoes. The people standing outside the building seem confused at first.

“Excuse me.” you say, moving right past them as you head through the doors.

You take the stairs up, still having an iron grip on the dress. You won’t let it down until you’re standing in front of rebels. You swear on everything.

You pass a third set of guards on your way inside of the meeting room that they had used the first time. When the door pops open, you can see a familiar face on the hologram screen. Alma Coin.

Paylor and Lyme look over simultaneously to see who’s entered the room.

“(Y/n)’s here.” Lyme says, standing up now.

“Good.” Coin says, “Won’t you join us?”

You make a face, stepping inside and shutting the door. You don’t head that far inside, sticking rather close to the door, but still in sight of the camera.

“Finnick’s been looking everywhere for you.” Coin tells you calmly, “We just broke the news to him.”

“And?” you ask.

“He’s disappointed that he went through all that trouble to throw a party for you.”

So that’s what he was doing earlier. Throwing you a party, and for what? God, you can’t imagine the headache you would have had through the whole thing. Fake a smile, pretend to like it. The only parties you do like are the types that go on inside of the Capitol.

It’s all lavish there. The foods are delicious, the sweets and the sour foods. The drinks they have that you swear are going to make you dehydrated, but you drink anyway. The people there are always so friendly, even when they aren’t. They’re so stupid and naive that it makes it enjoyable to be around them.

Not to mention they worshipped you.

“Am I supposed to care?” you ask, crossing your arms, “Can’t be a very good party with your district. The entire thing is probably being attended by a total of ten people, and the food and drinks are twenty years old. I’m not missing out on anything, trust me.”

Coin bites her tongue, smiling, “Maybe it’s best that you’re back in District Two, then.”

“I’m done talking to you.” you give her a mock smile, turning to Lyme and Paylor, “I’m going to solve this whole loyalist problem for you in a second. Do you want to send a camera crew with me just in case it works?”

Lyme’s confused, “No offense, but what makes you think it’ll work? Especially with your mouth?”

“Cause I know you guys have been approaching it all wrong, and rather than having a second person fuck it up for you ingrates, I’ll do it myself. I may be selfish but I’m also open minded and have a way of words when I’m not being a complete bitch.” you look at Coin, “And if it does work, you don’t get to say you planned it at all. I’m not Katniss, and I won’t be easily manipulated.

“On top of that, you’ll also owe me a shiny, brand new apartment in the heart of the Capitol. Otherwise you can take that propaganda footage and shove it up that ass of yours.” you point to Lyme and Paylor, “Camera crew, now.”

You leave the room after that, and Paylor approves the camera crew, asking one of the people in the room with them to go ahead and gather the people. In the meantime, you take a look at yourself in the nearest bathroom. Your makeup and hair are still how you left it, and the dress isn’t that dirty either.

When you get outside, there’s people already waiting to take you to the tunnels. And for their protection, they’re bringing volunteers with them. As for you, you’ll be out in the open just as you asked for.

“I live in luxury.” you tell yourself, raising your head a bit, “I belong in the Capitol. I am a loyalist. These rebels have no idea what they’re doing.”

You take the train tracks straight to the tunnel. The mountain has long since collapsed, which drew out most of the loyalists. And with Katniss’ speech after, a few surrendered. But there’s still plenty of people inside of there.

“I don’t know if we can follow you inside.” one of the girls tells you nervously, “It’s dark and unhealthy in there. If they begin firing, we’ll be the first to be brought down.”

“No, I will.” you say, “They’ll likely let you all live. If those cameras zoom well, keep as much of a distance as you can spare.”

The girl nods, “We trust you.”

You press your lips together, because it’s a first, “If I reach for my dress and turn my body like I’m going to run, you should take off immediately. I don’t plan on running, but I will if it gets too risky.”

“We’ll keep an eye out, I promise.”

Inside the tunnel, it’s even dirtier than you expected. Nonetheless, you all push through. The camera crew and the couple of armed people have masks over their face, but you work right through the dirt and smoke filled air. Even if you put a mask on now, you’ll have to take it off to talk anyway. There would be no point to it, you’re going to breathe in the air whether you like it or not.

“Stop!” A voice shouts, and you all come to a halt.

“Stay here.” you tell the crew.

Lights turn on, you cover your eyes for a moment as you blink through, trying to get adjusted to them. When you lower your hand, you can see that there’s several people ready to shoot you, and what looks like hundreds of people ready to back them up. The lights are coming from the train right in front of you.

“My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, I’m here to speak to whoever is in charge, face to face.” you move forward, but stop a little bit after that, not wanting to push your limits.

Someone appears on the top of the train, an automatic rifle in his hands, “You shouldn’t be in here.”

You drop the dress down now, “No, I shouldn’t. This place is unfathomably filthy, and I can’t imagine how hard it is to breathe the air in here. What’s your name?”

“Jovian.”

“You know why I’m here, right?” you ask, crossing your arms, your eyes wandering over all the people waiting to see what happens.

“It’s pretty obvious, which is why I should let you know it’s not going to work, and you should leave while you can.” he tells you, “Or I’ll just make an example of you, just like how we did with Katniss.”

“Except Katniss is still alive in District Thirteen, you didn’t actually kill her.” you tell him, “Healthy as a horse, she was up on her feet the same day, ready to come right back here and give you guys a second chance.”

They won’t know you’re lying.

“We should’ve gone for her head.”

You ignore that, “There’s a big difference between Katniss and I, though. Katniss grew up in the poorest part of twelve, and I grew up in what was arguable once the richest parts of District Two. And then I won the games and got more money than I knew what to do with, and she didn’t have any time to get to realize her luxury.

“Because of this, she’ll never understand what you’ll have to sacrifice if you do take part in the fight. You’re putting everything up for a gamble. Your house, your clothes, furniture, a family. And you’d have to do it without knowing the outcome of a rebellion.”

Jovian nods slowly, “You get it.”

“Of course I do, I was once a Capitol pet too, and then Snow ended up killing my family, and then my friends on top of that.” you motion with your hand, “And I saw the type of people that we were supporting all this time. They’re nothing worth supporting, Jovian. I can promise you that.”

Jovian shakes his head, “What if you lose, huh? The district is already in deep shit because half of us are rebels, what if there’s a chance that the people who don’t fight with you, get rewarded?”

You snort, “You think he’s writing down names? You think he gives a shit if some of you were helping, and the others weren’t? All he’s going to see is that District Two had tried to help the rebels, and suddenly we’re all fucked. So why not give in? You know what will happen if there are no more hunger games, no more districts, no more districts versus the Capitol bullshit?

“You’d be able to live wherever you want--the Capitol, here, any of the other districts, places that were off limits, maybe even in some of the arenas that had gone untouched. You would work if you want to, and have a million kids without worrying about teaching them how to fight.

“There would be no more worries, Jovian. You’d still get to live the same, but it would be that much more freedom. And even if you wouldn’t want to live in any of those other places, you’d be able to visit them whenever you want. Take a vacation to the Capitol and come home to a sturdy house. And for anyone who hasn't found their soulmate because they exist in a different district, you’d have a greater chance of finding them.”

The silence that fills the tunnel is surprisingly calm, it isn’t as tense as you thought it would be. Jovian is obviously thinking all of this through.

“But we can’t win this without District Two. If we get those warehouses pumping out weapons, we’ll win this, guaranteed. It’ll be difficult, as all wars are, but we’ll win for once. We’ll get the justice we deserve, Snow will pay for all the shit he’s done.” you insist, “If you guys come with me now, there’s no hard feelings.

“There’s food, water, clothes, medicine. All you’d have to do is come with us now, and we’ll get you cleaned up, one at a time.”

Jovian looks down at you, “And you can promise us this?”

You look behind you, straight at one of the guards, “Get Paylor to confirm this.”

It takes a moment, but when her voice comes over the tunnel, echoing, saying all of what you said is true, you can’t help but to give a hopeful look to Jovian.

He takes in a deep breath, “Okay.”

“That’s just you, though.” you look to all the others, past the lights, “How about you guys? Are you willing to fight?”

“Will you be fighting with us?” someone yells to you.

This question you weren’t expecting, but you find yourself nodding before you can catch it, “Every step of the way.”

“Then sign me up.” A girl starts coming forward, behind her trails a couple of kids, they come in a line, all holding hands. She walks right past you guys.

It takes a moment before others start breaking off in groups. Jovian gives you a look, “These are my people.”

“They’re our people now.” You correct him, “And they’re going to be safe. Pack the hurt into the train and get this baby moving out here.”

You turn around, heading towards the camera, “Is it still running?”

“Yes.”

You look straight into the camera lense, “Twenty-three kids have died every year for the past seventy-four years. That’s one thousand, seven hundred and one kids that have died in the hunger games. Nearly two thousand of your kids have gone into an arena, scared and alone.

“They wouldn’t know where their next meal would come from, they didn’t know if they would get sponsors or if they were worthy of them. They likely shivered and starved and were dehydrated down to their very last days. And while it was happening, all they could picture was their blue face in the night sky, signaling another fallen tribute.

“And you’re telling me, that now there’s a rebellion happening--one that will stop a cycle of heartless and meaningless murder--you’re not going to help? You’ll finally be able to have kids, and not worry about training them the moment that they’re born. No more staying up all night worrying that it’ll be your kid picked during the reaping.

“But we can’t get there if you don’t help.” You then lean a forward, “And Coriolanus, if you’re watching, I’d like to let you know that I found the scar you left on my face. You can mark me all you fucking want, but I haven’t done your bidding since I was sixteen. How’s this for calming down District Two?”

You stand up again, “For those of you who don’t know, my name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, I won the sixty-sixth hunger games when I was sixteen. I’m from District Two, and I have to admit that I have lived in luxury since the day I was born, and coming to terms with a rebellion that has ruined my whole lifestyle, isn’t easy.

“However, if I can see past all my greediness to realize that it’s unfair that I can live in luxury and others live in dirt, then you can too. There will be no more inequality, everyone will be able to live in a stable environment, and if you don’t want that, then you’re just as ill as Snow is.”

You turn to leave after that, hiking up the dress in the front so you don’t end up stepping on it and make a fool out of yourself in the process. It’s a couple of moments before the others are scrambling to follow.

“Are you really going to fight with us?” The girl asks.

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

She’s quiet for a moment, “You just don’t look like you’d been into that type of thing.”

You look at her, “Don’t be fooled by the dress and makeup. I’m a lot more than a pretty face.”

“We’ll have to get you fitted for clothing, then. You can’t march to the Capitol in a dress.”

You end the conversation, not saying anything else to her. What she said is obvious, you know that you’ll have to be dressed properly. Hell, you know what’s happening in the Capitol at the moment.

Nothing slips past you. You hear everything when it comes to secrets. You knew Johanna had been waterboarded because she failed some sort of swimming test, nearly took down a couple of people during her panic. And you knew that her and Blight were a little more than friends too.

Just like how you know that the Capitol is turning into a whole trap. Snow is planting these pods—as Beetee called them—that are near impossible to keep track of. Snow is pulling in the Capitol citizens closer, allowing him to plant more pods. Hundreds of them, every single day.

Which means that if you go out there with the other volunteers, there’s a good chance of a million things happening to you. You can’t even think of what the gamemakers would put into the streets of the Capitol. All you know is that it can’t be good.

They might as well throw in every single project that they’ve ever created since they won’t be able to use it against you all in the future. And in that case, you might not want to be in the streets of the Capitol after all.

Right when you leave the train station, there’s a giant dumpster waiting for the people leaving the tunnel. They’re forced to give up their weapons so that they can pass into the team of medics that are waiting. As you get closer, you’re able to see that there’s no struggle. Most give up their weapons without a fight, but some are a little hesitant to do so.

You and the camera crew pass by it easily, none of you are holding a significant weapon, and if you are, you’re all rebels anyway. They’re not worried about you guys turning on them, it’s more like the newly rebels that are just coming out of the tunnel.

Past all the disarming, is the group of medics that wait for everyone who makes it past the tunnel. It takes a bit for you and the camera crew to get through the dense crowd that only gets bigger. Just before you break the last line of people, you can hear the train’s horn, warning everyone that it’s coming.

Then, you get through.

Waiting on the other side of the crowd is Lyme, with a particularly impressed look on her face.

“Maybe we should have sent you in, initially.” Lyme says, “You did it effortlessly.”

“If any of you had bothered to tell me before sending Katniss in, I would have told you it was a bad idea.” You take a look behind you, “And by the way, this is a perfect example of what you should do when it comes to the Capitol citizens.”

“Want to be put in charge of that?” Lyme offers.

Your head whips towards her, “I will not play devil's advocate for them. That’s your fucking problem to sort.”

“It was just an offer.” Lyme says, but you’re already leaving towards the justice building again. Lyme’s quite taller than you, so it takes basically no effort when it comes to catching up with you, “While you were gone, Coin had someone flown in.”

You can’t help but let out a snort, “Oh, whoever should that be?”

After what you said to Coin, it’s no surprise to you. She would pull some bullshit like this to make you angry. It’s just her little form of payback.

“He’s waiting at your house.”

You look at her, “You had him escorted to my house?”

“He wouldn’t shut up about it. Gave him basic instructions to get to victor’s village, and then told him yours is the only one that hasn’t been touched.”

“Speaking of which, why is that?” you fix a curl that’s fallen into your face.

“Honestly, no clue.” Lyme says, “Good luck with Finnick.”

“Right.”

Lyme and the camera crew break off when you reach the justice building. From there, one single person brings you as far as they’re allowed to go into the town part of District Two, and then they head back to where they had been standing before you stumbled along.

You’re nearly home when your feet start to ache from the heels. And if it weren’t for the fact that the dirt is mixed in with glass, you might have taken the heels right off and walked barefoot the rest of the way. Before the rebellion, you definitely would have done that. Regardless of how people would feel about it.

Victor’s village still looks shitty, there’s not much to expect from it in the first place. It’s not like it’s going to have changed in the past hour or two. Although, you thought that you might find Finnick poking around in the abandoned, charcoal black houses.

Through the first arch and into the second reveals your perfect house. The door is shut--so it looks like Finnick knows his manners--and you don’t waste time going inside.

Swinging the door open, you make a point to slam it shut when you get inside. You don’t even move from the doorway before you’re tearing the heels off your feet, massaging them one at a time. Then, you head upstairs to your room.

If Finnick wants to speak, Finnick can come and find you. He invited himself to District Two, he was able to find your house, he’ll be able to find you.

Or rather, the other way around.

Finnick’s lounging on your bed when you walk in. In his hand he holds a book with your face on it. You can’t help but roll your eyes--that book was forced on you by Snow. He thought it was a good idea to draw in more attraction to you. And unfortunately it worked, and after that, you spent a couple more weeks than you were meant to, inside of the Capitol.

Of course, it ran short when everyone heard about your sour attitude, no matter what time of the day it was. People revoked their… reservations, and you were forced to go home.

“Welcome.” you say bitterly, opening the wardrobe doors and tossing your shoes inside, then you unzip the dress from the back with little to no problem.

“So the friendliness didn’t last long.” Finnick sounds amused, but when you turn to look over your shoulder, you can see that it’s not how he’s feeling. There’s a hint of a scowl on his face, maybe some touch of annoyance.

“Thank god.” you hang the dress up, then you close the wardrobe door and move onto the bathroom.

You tear off everything that you wouldn’t normally wear. The bracelets, earrings, rings. The only thing you leave is the necklace Tanith gave you, otherwise it’s all gone. And as soon as you get into the bathroom, it’s tossed into the jewelry drawer, which is absolute hellfire to sift through.

Finnick follows you to the bathroom, and watches as you remove the makeup, unphased by the fact that you’re half naked again, “Did you actually mean any of it?”

You pause for a moment, “Mean what? What I said to Johanna? Every word, she fucking asked for it. Antagonizing me and all that, she should have seen it coming.”

“The apology.” Finnick clarifies.

“I meant that, yes.” there’s no hesitation.

“That’s all I wanted to know.” he turns and leaves the bathroom.

“So now what?” you call, “You’re going back to District Thirteen?”

Finnick laughs, “Dream on.”

You roll your eyes, “It was worth a shot.”

“Your house smells like shit, by the way.”

“It’s the kitchen, feel free to clean it out if it bothers you that much. I just figured that this house would be blown to bits the second Snow gets a chance because of what I said.”

“Speaking of which.” Finnick comes back, he’s got some clothes for you hanging over his arm, “The front lines?”

You scowl at him a little bit, “Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to go through someone’s clothes? And yes, the front lines.”

Regardless, you pull on the shorts and shirt after tossing the makeup wipes away. You unpin your hair, letting it all fall into place unnaturally, which causes you to just pull it right back up into a ponytail anyway to keep it out of your face.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

You side-eye him, “Let me guess, you’re coming along?”

Finnick smiles, “You know me better than I thought.”

“No, you just have a thing for following me around, so I figured. Just like how Lyme didn’t even have to say your name, and I knew you came.” you grin a little, “How was the party, by the way?”

“Surprisingly boring without you there.”

“You’re saying that I’m entertainment?” you ask.

“The best.” Finnick smiles.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter fifteen

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shesclearlya3 · 5 years ago

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Dancing With Your Ghost p.1 (Request)

anon: Can u write a fic (or series if u want) where reader goes camping with some frens & she's the only 1 who can c the ded counselors. She makes friendly w/ Xavier & they get rlly close. They begin dating & no 1 knows y she's so happy. She has a whole other life when she's with the counselors & likes it more than her normal living 1. After some thinking, she pops the question & asks Xavier 2 find a way 2 kill her and keep her there with him, he asks y & she says it's cuz she's in love w/ him :o

I was going to wait until I finished “i loved you first” before posting, but the ideas kept coming and they won’t stop coming, so here it is!

pairing: Xavier Plympton x Reader

word count: 2,706

warnings: non (yet)

part 2

You scrambled out of the van, staring up at the faded sign of Camp Redwood. Your friends were laughing as they gathered their belongings, but you were too busy observing the abandoned murder sight from over thirty-years ago. You had read countless books and television documentaries of what transpired here. It was odd seeing it in all of its run-down glory.

"y/n! Catch!"

You turned just as your friend Winter tossed your bag of belongings. You caught it with one hand, shouldering it, while still looking around. As interested as you were in both massacres that occurred here, it wasn't your idea to choose it as a camping site. Your friends were real crime buffs, and this was their next stop, but taking it to the next level by staying overnight seemed a little much to you.

Winter trailed next to you, followed by Riley and Dorothy, who trailed behind with their phones at the ready. You stepped over the piles of leaves, tripping over random holes in the ground as Winter teased you.

"This place is awesome!" Riley said, taking a picture of a cabin with boarded-up windows and graffiti. "Why didn't we come here sooner?"

"I wanted to go to Briarcliff," Winter said, "After all the bodies they found there a few years ago, no fucking way!"

The four of you walked around, taking pictures, and enjoying the California sunshine on your skin. You and Winter had moved here for school almost four years ago now, meeting Riley and Dorothy in one of your classes. You were not looking forward to moving back to Michigan after graduation.

You had found a decent place by the lake, the one rumored to be bottomless. Riley wanted to sleep in one of the cabins, but most were boarded up entirely and inaccessible. It seemed like you'd be setting up the tents you brought instead.

Winter urged you to take off your clothes to swim. The swimsuit you were wearing was from the Summer before, but it still felt nice. You laid in the sun while the others tested the waters, yelling that it was cold, and their nipples were hard.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement in the woods surrounding the lake. It was very brief, but you knew you saw a dark purple shirt and shorts. You sat up, squinting against the sunlight. There was nothing there.

"y/n! Come and swim with us!" Dorothy splashed water your way, barely reaching the towel you laid out on.

You glanced back toward the woods, seeing a bird hopping along the ground for some food. You stood up, preparing to jump in with the girls. It was ridiculous, it was only the four of you here.

***

Some hours later, the coolers had been drug out onto the sand, and drinks were being passed around. Your belly was full from dinner, and you laughed as Dorothy and Riley were talking about how hot Captain America is.

"I'm gonna use the bathroom," you set down your drink, standing up. Winter laid sprawled out beside you, singing a Lana Del Rey song under her breath.

You grabbed the small bag of toiletries you had brought, planning on finding a bush to use. You felt slightly embarrassed, never imagining that you'd be relieving yourself surrounded by nature. The sun was starting to set, and very few lights worked around the camp. You fumbled with your phone, about to turn on the flashlight when-

"What's that in your hand?" You screamed, dropping your bag and phone, turning around to see a young woman with the blondest hair you had ever seen. She smirked at you, and you realized she had a striking resemblance to Winter.

"Who are you?" you wheezed, bending down and grabbing your stuff, keeping your eyes on her.

"I'm Montana!" she outstretched her hand towards you, "I'm a frequent visitor,"

You hesitantly shook her hand, seeing that she was kept nicely. "N-Nice to meet you, I'm y/n,"

"What are you holding?" she asked again, gesturing towards your phone.

"It's my phone, haven't you seen one?" you laughed lamely, showing her your smartphone.

"May I?" she asked.You hesitated before placing it in her hand. You watched as she toyed with it, her mouth falling open as you heard a random YouTube video playing. "This isn't a phone!" she exclaimed as she simultaneously smacked the screen a few times.

You were very confused as she handed it back to you. You forgot you were fighting the urge to pee yourself. Montana noticed the look on your face and grinned, before looking directly behind you. "Xavier!"

"What's going on over here?" you whirled around, starting to panic, thinking you were being ambushed. You saw a man wearing a plum shirt and shorts, a perfectly sculpted tuft of dirty blond hair on top of his head. You were entranced by his striking blue eyes that brightened at the sight of you.

"I'm talking to my new friend, y/n!" Montana grinned, "She's very nice, check out her phone!"

Xavier stepped closer to you, craning his neck as you showed him with a trembling hand. Montana was telling him about the random video that was playing, and he looked interested.

"Are you guys camping here too?" you asked finally, interrupting them when Montana wondered if you'd be able to find Aerobics tapes on them.

"You could say that," Xavier smirked at you. "Is this your first time here?"

"Yeah, I came with my friends," you nodded. Montana was grinning oddly at the two of you.

"You wanna hang out? You could tell me more about this device," Xavier handed your phone back that was running low on battery life.

You looked at the eager looks on their faces. Off in the distance, you could still hear your girls talking and laughing, probably getting drunk as you speak. A few minutes wouldn't hurt.

"I'd love that." you smiled.

***

The sun had set as you sat with Xavier and Montana under one of the only working lights in the camp. The subject changed from your phone to the current president, all the way to what exercises were popular. As odd as you found their questions, Xavier explained in a rather flat tone that they were people of nature and had quite the Amish existence.

Montana left after a while, talking about some guy named Trevor, leaving you alone with Xavier. He seemed very comfortable around you, which made you feel slightly better. He kept a safe distance, asking you about your life and the friends you came with. Xavier listened intently, a look of confusion appearing every once in a while when you mentioned social media.

He has to have some idea of what things are like now, you thought to yourself.

The more you spoke with him, the more he felt familiar to you. You couldn't quite put your finger on why or how. You never met someone like him; his beauty was one of the ages. He told you about his life before they moved out here, saying he was a gym instructor and was trying to break out into the acting scene that never worked out.

"It's getting cold," you commented, still wearing your tank top and shorts from earlier. Your now dead phone and bag sat at your feet.

"I'm sorry for keeping you this long," Xavier said, rubbing the back of his neck. His earring sparkled in the moonlight. "You can-"

"Y/N!" voices called your name, some louder than others. You had jumped, standing up from your spot on the wooden stairs when Xavier froze in his place.

"I'm over here!" you called, seeing flashlights heading in your direction. You saw Winter first, as she spotted you and skipped over, her cheeks flushed after the alcohol she consumed.

"There you are!" she gasped, bringing you in for a hug - a clumsy one at that. "WE WERE SO WORRIED!"

"Yeah, y/n, you've been gone for like an hour," Riley said.

"I'm sorry you guys, I was just talking to Xavier and Montana," you explained.

The three girls gave you a questioning look, despite being intoxicated. Winter stared at you, "Who?"

You frowned, pointing behind you with your thumb, "I met a camper, his name is Xavier-" you had turned around, only to stop in your tracks where the seat he once sat in was now empty. "Wait!"

"y/n, y/n, y/n, are you high?" Winter snorted at you. "There's nobody else here!"

You turned around now, looking for a sign that you weren't making this up. There were no footprints, no butt marks on the seats beside your own, nothing. You stuttered, attempting to explain who was sitting with you while your friends gave you concerned stares.

"I think you've had a long day!" Dorothy cooed, gently grabbing your arm. "Let's go back to camp! We have a long day tomorrow!"

You grabbed your stuff, your mind reeling as you followed them back to camp. You glanced behind you one last time, not seeing either of your new friends anywhere.

You woke up bright and early the next day, quietly creeping around as you changed into your new clothes. You made some breakfast, the little fire providing some much-needed warmth. You had shared a tent with Winter, who hogged most of the blankets. You gazed around, trying to spot Xavier and Montana, but they were nowhere to be found.

You unplugged your phone from the battery pack you brought, thinking if you got a picture with at least one of them, they'd believe you. You made sure the fire was kept low before setting off.

The sound of small animals and birds was the only thing you could hear now that the girls were asleep. Xavier and Montana never explicitly said where they were standing. They couldn't be that far away from you.

You stopped walking, looking off in the distance, and seeing the incredible hills and valleys surrounding the camp. You took a few pictures, smiling at the beauty of it all when you heard what sounded like a branch creaking above you.

You looked up, seeing nothing.

You took a few steps away, hiding under the shade as you continued to admire your surroundings. It wasn't long before you heard it again, looking up with a scowl when-

"CAWWWWW!"

You screamed when a towering figure jumped down, threatening to squash you. You dodged it just in time, nearly tripping over a root when you heard hysterical laughter.

A young black man was holding his sides, his overalls red and clean as a whistle as he buckled over. You stared at him with wide eyes, your heart beating a mile a minute.

"Aw shit, aw shit, that was better than I could have imagined!" he cackled, before two figures appeared from behind him, laughing along. It was them.

"Ray, you could have killed her!" Xavier said through his quiet laughter.

"She's fine! Aren't you, darling!?" Ray laughed again before going into a coughing fit.

"I-I think my heart stopped for a moment," you said, starting to laugh a little yourself.

"I know what that's like." Montana sighed dreamily.

Xavier gave her a comical look, before turning his attention to you. "Don't mind her, she's one of the most morbid people I know."

You smiled a bit, shaking Ray's hand when he offered it to you.

"You're friends, I take it," you said, before realizing how stupid it sounded.

"For a long time," Ray tossed an arm around Xavier's shoulder, who shrugged it off. "Tough love..." he mumbled.

"Come on, Ray, let's leave them," Montana said, now putting her arm around Ray, leading him away. Ray waved at you before making kissy faces at Xavier, who glared at him.

"I'm sorry about him, he can be a little much," Xavier smiled awkwardly.

"Where did you go last night?" you questioned. Xavier's face immediately fell, looking towards the scene you were previously admiring.

"I get a little nervous around people, anxiety, you know?" Xavier replied.

"Oh," you frowned, deciding not to push him any further. "I'm sorry if my friends scared you off, they can be loud when they're drunk,"

Xavier laughed at that, taking a seat in the dirt. You were surprised at this, as his appearance always seemed to be impeccable. You followed him, crossing your legs as you strained your neck to glance down at the sparkling water below.

"It's fine, I used to be like that too," he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, "I stopped a long time ago, it didn't interest me anymore,"

Just like the night before, you started talking about many things. You once again showed Xavier your phone, attempting to bring up Instagram in what little connection you had on this side of camp. His eyes lit up when you joked about how influencers were treated like celebrities most of the time.

"You should make an account, you'd have a cult following," you laughed, making him smile.

"Maybe one day, I don't even have a Snapbook,"

"Facebook," you corrected, hiding your giggle.

"Oh, sorry," Xavier wrinkled his nose. "What's the other one?"

"Snapchat," you masked your laugh again.

"It's not polite to laugh!" Xavier teased you, squinting his eyes as you finally lost it, knowing you would remember this moment forever to tease him later.

"I'm sorry, but that was the cutest thing I ever heard anyone say," you admitted, not realizing the implications of your words.

"Oh, you think I'm cute, huh?" Xavier teased you again, "That makes two of us."

You playfully shoved him, before asking him to take a photo with you. Xavier seemed hesitant at first before you took his very first selfie. Xavier asked when the film was supposed to pop out, tapping around your phone case.

"No, no, phones don't do that," you took it from him, showing him the picture from the gallery. Xavier's jaw dropped again, and you told him to go ahead and swipe. He saw the pictures you had taken earlier, as long as a few photos of your car ride with the girls on the way here before he gave it back.

"That's unbelievable, when I was growing up they said we'd have flying cars, not phones with touch screens and cameras!"

You laughed, believing him to be joking, but Xavier really wasn't. He didn't say anything, only laughing with you to avoid the real reason why he was at Camp Redwood.

Xavier encouraged you to walk around with him, and you took turns taking photos of each other, individually and together. He got the hang of it pretty quickly, not making any burst shots after the first fix or six times.

As much as you didn't want the day to end, you had already spent nearly four hours with him. Winter had texted you, saying they had just woken up and wanted to go on a hike.

Xavier seemed to realize it was time to let you go. He led you back towards the lake, asking when you were leaving.

"We're supposed to head back tomorrow afternoon," you explained, "Our spring break is over in a few days," you sighed, thinking of all of the homework that would be piled on your desk in the coming weeks.

"You go to school here, right?" he asked, trying to remember their conversation from last night.

"Yeah, I graduate in June," you sighed, "Then it's back home to Michigan with Winter." you frowned a little, realizing Xavier would be one of the friends you'd be leaving behind now.

Xavier didn't say anything, only stopping near the same cabin you met him yesterday. He smiled at you, "Uhh, if you're free later, Ray said something about a full-moon tonight if you wanna see it." he said lamely, and you could see the amusement in his eyes.

"I'd love that!" you smiled, "I can meet you here?"

"Awesome!" Xavier smiled. You both stood there, staring at each other before Xavier finally said, "I'll see you later." you nodded, watching as he headed back the way you came. You stared until his back disappeared from view before you met your friends at the lake.

taglist: (feel free to ignore)

@the-walking-daryl @trichy-knitts @shydragonrider @thefandomzoneisdangerous @lemonwhiskers @jetblackpayne @langdonsvcrd @okoktrinity22 @uwonman @stefanmikaleson1864 @sevenwonderwitch @rubbrninja @iamnotjesha @leatherduncan @imshakingandcryingrn @bratzblitz @goblackcat69 @brookethompsonownsme @bookoffracturedescapes @zodiyack @bitchchatter @guiltyfiend @psychobitchtess @aangrana @thexmancometh

#xavier plympton x reader #jim mason x reader #michael langdon x reader #duncan shepherd x reader #Cody Fern #ahs1984 #ahs imagine #request #ray powell #montana duke #xavier plympton imagine

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chocochar · 5 years ago

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ᴄʜᴀɪɴᴇᴅ | ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ!ᴅᴀʙɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | Part 1

Part 2 | Part 3: TBA

(AN: Okay so this kinda came to me after seeing some demon Dabi art, this could be a series or just a two shot, so if you like it comment which you’d prefer:

A full blown fic, or a two shot? Hope you enjoy!)

Warnings: Mild blood, swearing

She knew it was a bad idea going through with this.

Proving oneself as brave just to appease those who she doesn't even belong with.

She knew, but she still went through with it.

(F/n) stares into the darkness surrounding her and her classmates.

All on a 3 day field trip to the mountains the 2 college classes, mixed with freshman, juniors, and seniors, that came as well as the 3 teachers had set up their tents on the large campground. Night had fallen, they'd all had dinner and set up a fire, and most had gone to bed a good hour and a half ago.

Including (F/n).

She was woken up by a few of her classmates who pulled her out of the comfort of her sleeping bag, air mattress and tent into the cold of night and darkness only being lit up by the remaining flames licking from the fire pit. A few students are still up as well as an assistant, all watching the fire and telling stories.

The group sneak around to make sure the others don't hear.

"Why did you guys wake me up?" (F/n) asks annoyed. Her eyes are still tired but she's more alert as they embark into the shadows. The only light being that of phone flashlights the other students turn on once they're out of sight.

"We're gonna have a bravery test, and your our friend right?" Hizaki grins at her, being the ring leader of this group and also a regular tormentor of (F/n)'s.

She's uncomfortable. They know they could all get in trouble, but they still keep walking. She doesn't like this group. If she stays they could all die, her included. She wants to leave, but they may not even let her leave.

"A bravery test?"

"Yeah, it's almost 1 AM, didn't you hear about that one legend about these woods?" Nanikari asks, looking at the confused freshman.

"A 1 AM legend…" (F/n) wracks her sleep deprived brain for a clue, but nothing. "No, I can't say I have. But we should get back-"

"Apparently," Nanikari cuts her off,"If you enter the forest at 1 AM and wait, you'll encounter the ones who roam and control this place: hellhounds. Supposedly there are different types, but the one everyone sees most is possibly the scariest."

(F/n)'s brow arches, skeptical but also a little intrigued. Legends aren't real. But it's interesting.

"I see… But really, guys, we should be getting back," she cuts them off before they can continue. "What if they realize we're gone and we get in trouble?"

"Stop being such a pussy," Hizaki bites out, (F/n) shutting her mouth. "Are you just gonna whine this whole time?"

"Anyways, the hell hound I'd like to see is the one with 'blue flames'," Nanikari continues. "His fur is missing in some spots and where it is is covered in gross, burnt looking skin. Blue flames or smoke come out of his mouth, even when it’s closed, his fangs stick out of the lips, but the one thing that always stops people in their tracks…” The man gets a look on his face and says in a ‘spooky’ tone,”His eyessss.”

“His… Eyes?” Yuki asks, the freshman looking like she was dragged along too, although she’s speaking up a lot less than (F/n) is.

“Mhm, apparently they’re a bright blue, and the moment your eyes meet he has you, you’ll never escape, he’ll feed off your soul-!”

“RAWR!” A senior yells, suddenly coming out of the bushes. Yuki and another freshman scream while (F/n) looks shocked, almost joining them but keeping her mouth shut. The boys all laugh before looking at their kouhais, Hizaki grinning and crossing his arms while they stop. They’re far from the camp, (F/n) starting to feel more and more nerve wracked by the second, and the senior who lunged out at them check his phone, saying,”It’s 12:50 AM, almost time freshmeat.~”

“What exactly do you guys have planned here?” one of the freshman asks. They look as scared as (F/n) feels, even Nanikari appears a little on edge.

“As said before we’re gonna be doin’ a bravery test. Why are we out doin’ it here? Simple,” Hizaki points out into the darkness and continues,”All you 3 gotta do is walk out until we can’t see you and you can’t see us, and stay out there for…”

“20 minutes!” his meathead friend pipes in. Hizaki grins, agreeing with this, and holding up 2 fingers he replies,”Yep, 20 minutes. You can use your flashlights until you reach a spot, then you have to turn them off and wait. Not saying they’re real, but if a hellhound just happens to show up make sure to record it, got it? That way you have proof and just aren’t some pussies running away from the challenge.”

“20 minutes?? Did you forget it’s cold out here, plus there’s more to worry about than some fake monsters?” (F/n) asks incredulously, arms held against her. Even with her coat and boots on it’s freezing. Plus she’d love to go back to bed.

“So you’re wussing out?” The ring leader asks, (F/n) swallowing when he looks at her. Hizaki still lives in his high school fantasy of being top dog at school, and unfortunately he has the money and looks to make people follow him. The (brunette, blonde, etc) has seen first hand what happens when he’s crossed or someone doesn’t listen.

“... Fine, I’ll take your challenge,” she answers after moments of silence. Turning she starts walking the way he told them to go, looking back at the other freshmen as they reluctantly follow.

The winds pick up as they venture into the black. Their lights luckily lead them through the dark but as they keep walking there’s a visible change; the darkness seems to be getting thicker the further they go, and a mist seems to pick up that was not there before. The other two are starting to shake while (F/n) can feel her heart pounding in fear. Something isn’t right, but she doesn’t want to vocalize this.

“Can you guys still see them?” She asks, the other two glancing back. It’s like they haven’t even gone that far, the seniors still somewhat visible, despite it feeling like they’ve been walking a lot more than they have.

“Yeah, I can,” one speaks up, (F/n) cursing under her breath and continuing to walk. The moment they can’t see them she’ll lead the way back to camp, forget this stupid game. They’re all just risking getting sick or worse out here!

The fog is getting worse, although in an odd way it is starting to appear like smoke. The air is also getting thicker with their fear starting to fill to the brim. And (F/n) smells something: a fire. Is someone burning something nearby?! The air is hotter as well with sweat starting to coat their skin, none of them no longer freezing cold but instead it feels like a fire is licking at their skin.

“I’m feeling really hot, what’s going on?” Yuki asks, starting to panic while wiping beads from her forehead.

“I don’t see anything, though, this smoke is so thick!” the other freshman complains, coughing. (F/n) has this uneasy feeling like they’re being watched. Are those jerks back there playing some sort of prank?? But looking back she doesn’t see or hear them, in fact it’s still dead quiet… “W-We should go back-”

“O-oh my god…” Yuki mumbles with a tremble in her voice up ahead, the two looking at her confused. She walked further when she saw something, and following her gaze (F/n) can feel her whole body freeze and grow cold suddenly while her (eye color) orbs widen.

Ahead of them is what looks like the figure of a very large dog; it’s limbs are thin but it’s paws huge with talon like claws. It’s fur along its back looks messy and black as night with tufts of it on its head sticking up with some laying over its eyes and snout. The rest of the fur that it still has on it's body is short and a light gray. As it approaches the bright blue eyes glowing in the smoke are hypnotizing and as it gets closer to where they can now see it more clearly (F/n) can make out the smoke billowing from it’s bared teeth. The most notable things about it, though, are the burn scars along its body as well as the… Staples?, a pair of horns sit poking straight up atop it's head, and shackles are clamped to each leg, chains dragging from each that have blue flames burning at the ends.

"I-is that… The hell-hell hound they w-w-were talking about…?" The other freshman asks shaking. (F/n) doesn't respond, too busy trying to not panic even though every fiber in her being is telling her to scream.

"O-Oh my god…" Yuki repeats, her voice giving away she's tearing up right now.

The beast growls and as it's mouth opens azure flames start to spill out, it's eyes locked on them, especially Yuki. They're dead. It's going to kill and eat them, and no one will know what happened… It starts approaching Yuki, (F/n) almost hearing whispers of an unknown language as it gets closer, the sound clearly coming from the dog. And she sees it, the hound ready to pounce as it unleashes a howl that knocks them out of their frozen states.

Yuki screams when it charges her, (F/n) gasping and thinking quickly and in a panic she grabs a nearby rock and chucks it at the monster's head. It smacks into its snout, being big enough to catch the hound off guard as it stops and shakes its head.

"Run!!" (F/n) shouts, pulling Yuki's arm and starting to run away. The beast howls again before immediately rushing after them.

When (F/n) looks back though it's gone; she's worried immediately, but doesn't stop running for her life, the other two doing the same with their hearts all pounding. But over her own beating organ the (brunette, blonde, etc) can make out another pounding. The sound of something else running with it's own feet hitting the ground in a chase. The air is still thick with smoke and hot, a clear sign the thing is closeby, and looking ahead the young woman almost doesn't see the seniors looking confused ahead of them, nearly slamming into Hizaki.

"What the fuck?! What's got you all so freaked out?!"

"Yeah, and what's going on?" Nanikari questions, the trio looking around.

"No time to explain, we have to go!!" Yuki cries out, trying to escape the third senior's hold on her.

"What, you guys didn't-"

"Forget the fucking bravery test, we need to-" the other freshman is cut off by a piercing bowl and the rush of something coming straight for them. Without any warning Hizaki is knocked down from behind and they all scream and back up as the beast pins him and bites down on the crook between his neck and shoulder. Blood is seen, and the bully is crying out in pain, the others either unable to move as they watch in horror or running off screaming. It lets him go but then bites deep into his leg and starts to yank him into the forest, the boy clawing at the ground weakly and begging them for help.

The monster stops when it's hit by yet another rock and it's cerulean gaze lifts to land on (F/n); she looks terrified with another stone in hand, not knowing what is pushing her to react, but shouting,"Let him go, you mutt!" she throws the other rock at the hound. Managing to hit it right in the eye it whimpers and backs up letting Hizaki go as he limply lays there. (F/n) takes in the immediate danger she's put herself in. If she gets out of this alive Hizaki better turn over a new leaf or something. The hound looks at her with the one eye uninjured and growls, it's target being the woman now.

"Nanikari, grab him!" She yells at the other senior before taking off.

She'll have to try to lose it in the woods, or get back to camp and tell the teachers to get everyone back to the buses and cars!! But where was camp again?!

The sound of paws hitting the dirt not far behind her keeps her adrenaline high as her legs seem to keep going even as they ache. She takes turn after turn, loop after loop, even ducking under logs it's too big to go under. Over the sound of it's paws and her heart she can hear the cracking of fire, despite there not being any from what she can see. Whispers hide amongst the sound of flames, still unable to make out what they're speaking, but nearly slamming into a tree she ignores them. They must be there to distract her.

When she's sure she's lost it at least for now she ducks behind a large tree and hides, her hand covering her mouth and nose tight. Her heart is thundering, when she hears it's footsteps crunching on the forest floor she tries to listen out for how close they are.

It's sniffing around, growling when it can't seem to locate her. So its nose must not be top notch, good to know. Peeking out she watches it look around further from her before leaving the area in the opposite direction she's going.

Once it's out of sight she sneaks off, moving faster and faster until she's still managing to run; her legs scream but she keeps going.

Fortunately she sees Nanikari and the other senior looking for her along with a few other students, and panting she waves when one shouts,"There, I see her!!" They all start to run over.

She smiles exhaustedly, starting to say,"Okay, I think he's gone, we need to leave tho-"

The relief is short lived as she gasps in sudden pain when teeth bite into her calf and she falls down onto her stomach hitting the ground with a sudden thud. Now on her front she looks back in terror and shock, (eye color) eyes meeting that hauntingly fascinating blue as the hound starts to pull her away. She claws at the dirt, reaching for the others.

"No, help, please!!" She cries out with tears brimming in her eyes.

But nothing, no one helps her. They stand and stare too terrified to move a muscle. Even as their classmate is pulled into the darkness they don't even speak up, and (F/n)'s eyes widen. They're leaving her to die…

She attempts a kick at the hound but her leg won't move, stiff and in too much pain to try to free herself. She peers back at her captor, her eyes once more meeting the beast's; the whispers fill her head again only this time they're more clear and without any control her consciousness fades until her head drops, the last thing she remembers being that of the hound letting her leg go suddenly as it manages to maneuver her onto its back.

#demon dabi #demon dabi x reader #bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi x reader #bnha dabi x reader #bnha demon au

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sundrops-crown · 4 years ago

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Fairy Tales

Summary: A drabble surrounding Flynn and Stalyan's relationship and how he dropped the question.

A/N: I really think Stalyan’s and Flynn’s relationship is interesting, and I wanted to test the waters by exploring their interactions as this is my first Tangled fic. Brief abuse mentions.

Flynn often thought he loved her. Sometimes he did not. It didn't really matter though because what could a guy like him really hope for? Not only was Stalyan beautiful, but she was a thief. Like him. And in their own little world, they were perfect for each other.

"Are you thinking this through? 'Cause I don't think you're thinking this through."

Flynn dodged as the guard swung at his head.

"You obviously are a very strong man, but you gotta ask yourself, is this really what the king would want?"

Another dodge.

"And do you really want to waste your energy on someone as nimble and witty as moi?"

As it became increasingly apparent his banter wasn't getting him anywhere, Flynn looked for the next best option. He kicked up the stick that had been lying near his foot and in a swift motion, he threw it at Stalyan who grabbed it in midair and whacked the guard over the head.

"Hey, angry! Over here," Stalyan yelled with her palms cuffed around her mouth.

The guard rushed toward her as she managed to leap off the wall and into the bushes, pulling Flynn with her.

They descended into the berry bushes surrounding the walls of Corona, laughing.

"Oh man, we are good!" He brushed the brambles off his legs and leaped out of the shrubbery.

"The stupid look on his face was priceless!"

Flynn grinned and helped Stalyan to her feet.

They were around Corona which was starkly different than his usual setting, but she told him to run away with her, so he did.

Flynn didn't have anybody who would miss him if he left Vardaros anyway. Well.. maybe Lance would, but he lost contact with him ages ago.

He stood up and held out a hand for Stalyan, who took it, smiling slyly.

"Well Rider, that was pretty quick thinking on your part."

"Beauty and Brains, am I right," Flynn said while flashing what he hoped would be a winning smile.

At first Flynn thought running away with Stalyan would just be them going on dates and occasionally making stiff old royals mad, but he quickly realized she was an excellent partner at all things. Read: stealing.

This particular day they had decided to snag jewelry that had just happened to be laying around in a tent set up with merchandise for the lost princess's birthday. Flynn honestly had never really cared much for the event, but the type of opportunities it opened up? Yeah, that was something to look forward to.

Stalyan looked up at the starry night sky around them. The stars twinkled in her eyes as she glanced at him and gave him a look.

"You know, Flynn, I've always wanted to go on a date under stars."

She held up the stolen items and watched them gleam in the night.

"I bet we could sell these for a pretty penny."

See, most people would feel guilty for selling something that wasn't theirs. And Flynn kinda felt guilty too. Key word "kinda." But Stalyan had convinced him his guilt was unwarranted, so he allowed himself to follow her.

Something he had learned very early on in their relationship was that when Stallion said something it usually wasn't best to argue. They were both headstrong and very opinionated which he supposed probably wasn't the best match.

Flynn put his arm around her shoulders and took the commemorative necklaces. They were emblazoned with a picture of the lost princess as a baby surrounded by lanterns.

"I bet we could but to who? Everyone here already has something to celebrate the day."

His eyes trailed over to the groups of families huddled anxiously around a fire. Most were unable to go inside the walls for whatever reason but some chose to stay outside to avoid the crowd.

"You know what, I think I may have the perfect idea."

***

They were laying down on a blanket near the edge of town, watching the night sky. In the lake in front of them, couples rowed by in boats, ready to watch the lanterns pass. He breathed in the beauty of the midnight color the sky had taken on and the chilly air that filled his lungs. He was about to open his mouth to comment on the scenery, but one look at Stalyan, and he promptly closed it.

Her gaze was trained on the couples in the river, and she looked... jealous? He knew Stalyan to be petty at times or to get angry when he would mess up or say something wrong. Heck, his back still stung from the last time he dropped her powder blush. But Stalyan being jealous? Now that was new. She usually had everything she wanted at her fingertips with her being the Barron’s daughter and all.

Stalyan looked directly at him and gave him a tight lipped smile.

"Flynn, when are you going to ask me to marry you?"

In that instant his mouth ran dry, and he was afraid if he opened his mouth no words would come out.

It's not that he didn't love her. He'd even be lying if he said the thought of proposing hadn't crossed his mind from time to time.

But he was so young. And even though he knew it was stupid, knew she would laugh at him if she knew, he wanted something like what was in the books he read.

In those days at the orphanage with Lance, where they would choose random books of the shelf to read, he would lose himself in all sorts of novels. One of his favorites (besides The Tales of Flynnagian Rider of course) were the fairy tales. Ones where the prince and the princess found each other and instantly fell in love. Where they went on quests and adventures together.

Where the prince wasn't scared of the princess.

He wanted something like that. And Stalyan, as beautiful as she was, was not that.

But maybe he was being delusional. He had her. And his mind chided him to remember that without her he had nothing. And if he lost her, he truly would have no one.

Flynn swallowed down the fear in his throat and grabbed her hands.

She began to grin, and he noticed how her eyes took on that familiar look they did when she was happy. Stalyan stood up while he kneeled in front of her and pulled out a ring he stole earlier (and was hoping to sell) from his pocket.

"You read my mind. Stalyan, will you marry me?"

She laughed. "Finally Rider. Of course I'll marry you."

His racing thoughts were interrupted when he felt her mouth on his.

When they broke for air, she looked at him with so much feeling and importance that he blushed. Maybe they would be alright after all. Fairy tales were just make believe anyway.

inspired by the song The Look by Metronomy

#disney #disney+#tangled the series #rapunzel the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tts #eugene fitzherbert #flynn rider #tangled fanfiction #stalyan

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onedayiwillflyfree · 5 years ago

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When the Sun Begins to Fall Chapter 10: Juniper

Read the full story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21255530?view_full_work=true

Chapter 10: Juniper

Summer sunsets in Avonlea were truly incomparable. Gilbert should know, he had seen them fall in many different locations over the years. Trinidad, Jamaica, Costa Rica, even in the outer borders of Europe. And none, not one had ever compared to the sun setting over the Lake of Shining Waters. From the peach and lilac streams of light that kissed each wave to the warmth of the last light of the day that contrasted the first of the cool evening breezes. He truly thought nothing would ever top it. Of course, that was until he saw the sight of two shadowy figures dancing farther down the cliff, yelling praises to the sun and all its glory.

“Oh marvelous, wonderful setting sun!” Anne yelled out over the cliff, her fire locks blowing gently behind her back. “Thank you for gracing us with your presence this most glorious of evenings! Your phenomenal beauty knows no bounds!”She grinned from ear to ear as she grabbed hold of Ka’kwets hand and together they twirled. A smile beamed from the young Mi’kmaq girls face, her small braids flapping in the wind. All too quickly, she began losing her balance and sent the pair of them toppling to the ground. They exchanged a single glance before bursting into a fit of childish giggles.

Gilbert smiled as he looked on, his heart feeling more at ease hearing their laughter. A few days prior, Aluk had expressed his concerns to Gilbert about Ka’kwet. He said she was barely eating or speaking to anyone, along with having extreme bouts of rage, and would scream at anyone given the chance. And in the night, she would wake up screaming so loudly that it once woke the entire village. The only activity that appeared to put her to rest was painting with her mother as she was retold stories of days long since passed. Gilbert wasn’t sure what he could do to help her - or if she would even accept it- but Anne, who had zero medical training, seemed to be helping her better than he ever could.

He felt a sting cross his shoulder as he was smacked with a cluster small oak branches. “Ow!” Gilbert cried, fingers gingerly touching the sting. He looked over to have the branches shook in his face while being scolded by an older woman in a language still foreign to him. “I’m sorry ma’am,” A leaf brushed against his mouth as she continued to shake them. “Aluk! Can you please tell her...” Another whack. “I’m sorry!”

Aluk held in a laugh, resting a gentle hand on his mother’s shoulder and began asking her to stop. She looked back at her son and spoke quickly, saying something that made Aluk smirk. “She said yes they are beautiful, but you are here to learn medicine.” Gilbert felt a flush creep up his neck and make its way to his cheeks.

This brought a grin to her face as she let out a wry chuckle. The medicine woman then pointed in front of them to an empty stump that had four different herbs resting on it. She spoke quickly and then looked at him expectantly. Gilbert peered over her shoulder, silently pleading for a translation from Aluk. He let out a small chuckle and translated. “She wants you to name the four herbs in front of you and what purposes they serve to healing.”

Gilbert nervously swallowed. He had never had an issue with tests before. Why should this one be any different? “Well,” he looked over the roots and herbs. He picked up a small red berry cluster, this one he could identify in his sleep. “This one is highbush cranberry, it’s good for ails of the bladder, bowels, and stomach. Best to be dried and powdered. However, can be consumed orally as food or in a tea.” Aluk translated, the older woman curtly nodded her approval before pointing to a cluster of purple flowers.

“These are rosemary,” Gilbert smiled, remembering how Anne had commented on their beauty when he was explaining them to her at dinner a few nights prior. She stated that their name should be changed though, seeing as they were purple rather than the color of a rose. He was urged to continue as the medicine woman raised the leafs again. “Sorry, sorry, it helps with sore joints, spasms, and improves memory.”

Aluk offered a gentle smile and nodded, pointing to the final two herbs on the stump. Gilbert knew the one with long oval leaves from their powerful aroma. It was a smell he knew well from whenever Mary would cook one of her signature recipes. “Sage. Used in cleansing rituals as well cuts, bruises, and minor colds. The other one...” he glanced down at branch of vibrant green needles and bit his lip. “I’m not sure. I’m sorry.”

His words were translated, the elderly woman shaking her head slightly and began speaking. Aluk nodded, responding briefly back before turning back to Gilbert. “She said needles can get confusing, but these are special and must be remembered.” She continued speaking, picking up the cluster of needles and dark blue berries. “It’s juniper. Hard to find if you don’t know where to look. Luckily, she said she likes you.” She offered a gentle smile and pointed behind him. Gilbert turned around and a little bit in the distance, close to where Anne and Ka’Kwet were off praising the sun, was a small grouping of bushes growing close to the ground next to a stunning, old oak. He had seen the tree often, always admiring its beauty but he never would have guessed that it was the bushes surrounding it that would be the truly special ones.

“And what does it heal again?” he asked, his eyes not moving from the bushes.

“Many different things,” Aluk responded. “Indigestion, sore lungs and throat, we have even had luck with it curing people with diseases you call pneumonia and consumption.”

Gilbert’s eyes ripped from the tree, gazing at Aluk in disbelief. “Consumption? That’s impossible. Our medicine...”

The old woman wagged a finger. “Not always right.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sorry?”

Aluk sucked in a deep breath. “What she means your medicine is good, but you have all been led to believe it is the only way to heal.” The elderly woman pressed the berries and needles into his hands and spoke in her native tongue. “She said the earth has provided means to keep our people alive for hundreds of years. The earth provides for all.”

He had never considered it that way. In school and in his internships, he had been taught that medicine was always science, nothing more. But the idea that there was so much more out in the world that he could learn as long as he kept his mind open, the thought excited him. Gilbert wrapped his free hand around his mentor and smiled. “Thank you for everything you have taught me this past week. I will treasure it always.” She smiled before Aluk even had a chance to translate. His words didn’t need to be translated, the gratitude was radiating from his body.

“Earth provides,” she spoke slowly.

He nodded. “The earth provides.”

——

“Come on boy,” he squeezed his legs tighter as Butterscotch cantered through the woods. Stray branches stung his face and arms, but he didn’t slow down and try to dodge them. Time was short. He could see the clearing a few feet ahead, the cliffs coming into view. Almost there. With a flick of the reigns, he urged the horse to move faster. “Little bit more Butterscotch, we’re almost there!”

Gilbert burst through the trees, one stray pine branch giving a farewell scratch along his leg as he brought a hand up to shield his eyes from the blinding sun. He pulled back on the reigns, encouraging the horse to slow its pace. A familiar sea breeze ruffled his mess of curls, almost as if it was welcoming him home after many months away. His mind drifted to the last time he had been there, desperate and broken after Anne had let him go off to Paris, when he caught sight of the old oak. A smile spread across his lips and he tugged his reigns to the left, dismounting and wrapping the leather straps around a sturdy branch.

Pulling the empty flower sack and Jerry’s knife from the saddle and jogged over to the bushes. Taking a few sprigs in his hand, he breathed in their calming scent. “Hello old friends. It's been a while.” His voice was soft, much like Anne’s was whenever he heard her speaking with the kindred spirits within the forest. “I need your help. Anne needs you.” He unsheathed the knife and began expertly cutting through the thin branches, needles poking his hand as he slid them into his bag. *A couple more, then back to Anne.

After he placed a few more branches into the sack, he tied the burlap shut and quickly made his way back to the horse. He untied the reigns, throwing them over Butterscotch’s lowered head as he grazed on the grass below. “Sorry bud,” he placed a foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself onto the saddle. “I need you to run a little bit more.” The horse snorted in understanding as Gilbert patted his neck. “Good boy.” He pulled the reins towards the woods, stopping only to glance back at the bushes that could be Anne’s saving grace. “Thank you.” He whispered, giving them a grateful smile before he squeezed his legs together and took off back towards the quickly darkening woods.

———

Fweeet!

Steam forced its way out the kettle spout, screaming for someone to come relieve the growing pressure. Gilbert grabbed the kettle, ignoring the slight burn he felt on his pinky through the thinnest portion of the towel and poured it into a large pewter cup. A few needles escaped into the cup. He grunted in frustration and reached for a spoon to fish them out.

“Di, can you clean this out and refill it?” he requested, pulling out most of the needles in one go.

Diana nodded, her soft black curls tied tightly in a knot on top of her head. “Of course. Roy should be in with a second bucket of water soon.” She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, her sleeves rolled up past her elbows.

“Good,” he said, still fishing for the final few needles. “You all should take a break for a bit. Don’t want to overheat her from all the steam.” Much to Gilbert’s frustration, a few stragglers remained floating in the water, no matter how hard he fought to get them. “I don’t have time for this.” He mumbled as he tossed the spoon aside and walked swiftly to the stairs, leaving Diana to plop into a kitchen chair.

Cole met him at the top of the stairs, a bucket of cool water in his hands. “Her breathing seems easier now, but her lips are still blue around the edges. She just fell asleep a few moments ago.” Cole wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand when his eyes drifted to the contents of the pewter cup. He frowned. “Are those pine needles?”

“Juniper needles! I’ll explain later,” Gilbert pushed passed his friend, not trying to be rude but desperate to have Anne ingest the medicines. He pushed opened the door, steam pouring out of the room. He left it open just a crack to allow it to further filter out of the room.

Anne lay her head against Marillas chest, her eyes lightly shut and breathing heavy through her mouth. The tiniest amount of relief wash over him, she was breathing well enough that she could sleep.

Marilla acknowledged him as he walked over to the bed and sat at their feet. “She fell asleep about ten minutes ago. Poor girl is beyond exhausted.” She ran her fingers around though her daughter’s hair, pulling stray strands from her soaked forehead and pressing them back on her head. “She did the breathing like you showed her. It caused her tremendous pain but she didn’t complain one bit.” She pressed a gentle kiss on the top of Anne’s head. “You’d have been proud of her,” Marilla whispered.

He was proud. In fact he was so proud he wasn’t sure he could find the words for it. He couldn’t imagine the excruciating pain she must have been feeling in the beginning parts of the breathing treatment. Fighting against pus and mucus that was nesting in her chest...well, he had seen grown men lose hope because of it.

Anne let out a large cough and her eyes slit open. “Gil...” she whispered in a raspy voice.

“I’m here, Anne-girl.” He scooted closer to her, cup still firmly in his hands. “I brought something that will help you feel better. You think you could sit up a little more?”

Anne nodded, reaching for Gilbert’s hand for assistance. He shared an unspoken agreement with Marilla, who pushed Anne forward while he pulled. She sat for a moment, her body swaying as if the mere act of sitting up had made her head spin. Gilbert kept a steady hand on her shoulder, hoping to help keep her upright but to no avail. Anne had eaten very little and moved even less in the last few days, her body was too weak to maintain itself upright. She leaned forward, collapsing into Gilbert’s chest with a soft thud. “Sorry...”

“Don’t be Anne-girl, but I do need to get into a better position.” She nodded, her forehead moving his shirt with each movement. Gilbert pushed her forward slightly, making sure to keep her stable with one of his hands as he slid next to her on the bed. He looked to Marilla, hoping to not cause a stir but her focus was solely on her weakened child. “Alright, rest against me. You can put as much weight against me as you need,” Anne leaned into him, her shoulder digging into his upper abdomen but he didn’t have the heart to adjust her. She was fading and from the intense warmth radiating off of her, her fever would soon be reaching its peak. “Anne, I need you to drink this,” She reached a shaky hand towards the cup, trying to take it with her quiver fingers before they fell into his lap.

Gilbert bit his lip, she was getting weaker with each passing moment. “Here,” he pressed the cup into her hand, his firmly wrapping around hers. “Lean your head back, we will do it together.”

She lifted her chin, her head resting heavily on Gilbert’s chest as they together brought the cup to her lips. “Little sips, alright?” Together they tipped the cup slowly, Anne taking small sips while Gilbert kept a careful eye that no needles made their escape. She forced the liquid down her throat, each swallow sounding more painful than the last. After a sip that was too large, she began to stir into a coughing fit. Marilla bent forward, patting her back in hopes to assist the pus out. Anne coughed as she turned her face into Gilberts white shirt, launching one final cough of green and red mucus near the collar.

“I’m so sorry...” she whispered as tears dropped down her cheeks, her fingers trying to reach for the spot to wipe it away.

“Stop,” Gilbert wrapped his arm tighter around her, hoping she would learn that he could never be angry with her for something so trivial. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I’m so tired Gil,” Anne mumbled aimlessly, her eyes looking around the room while her lids slowly shut. “So tired.”

“Little bit more,” Gilbert whispered, tilting the cup the tiniest bit. Anne ignored it, already beginning to slip away. “Come on, Carrots.” He waited for her eyes to shoot open, for her to become cross with him but her breathing began to slow. Gilbert shook her enough that her eyes fluttered. “Just one more sip Anne, please. And then you can sleep. Just one last sip.” His words came out in a plead.

Marilla watched the pair, fighting off tears as Anne opened her mouth to let Gilbert pour in the last bit of liquid. He smiled tightly as she forced it down, coughing one final time before she sunk deep into him, her fingers still holding tightly to the cup beneath his. “Good job, Anne-girl, good job,” he whispered into her sweat soaked hair when his eyes drifted to Marillas.

“What did you give her?”

“Boiled juniper needles.” He placed the cup in the hand behind Anne, balancing her as he deposited it onto her nightstand. “It’s a traditional Mi'kmaq healing herb.”

“Why didn’t we use this sooner?” she asked. Her voice was genuine, no anger or frustration in her tone, but instead curiosity. Still, he felt enormously embarrassed by his answer.

“I… I forgot,” he mumbled, looking down at Anne, her red curls had turned into wet clumps from sweat and were sticking to her neck and forehead. Her cheeks were the deepest shade of scarlett he had ever seen on a person and yet, somehow, he still thought she looked as radiant as ever. “I forgot a lot of important things,” he whispered more to himself than Marilla as he wiped a bead of sweat from Anne’s forehead.

Marilla continued staring at the pair. “Now what?” she questioned, allowing some edge to her tone.

“Well, her breathing seems better for now, so we should be able to stop the steam until she wakes up. Let her cool down and rest.” Gilbert slowly slid her off and laid her down into her stack of ever growing pillows. He pulled her hair from out behind her in hopes it would keep her neck cool. “Give everyone a chance to rest.”

She considered this. “Yes, rest would be good for all.” She looked back to Anne. “And she will be alright?”

Gilbert rolled up his sleeve, already beginning to boil after being in the room for only a few moments. “Well, it’s too soon…” Marilla glared at him. “What I mean is as long as we keep her fever controlled and on the lower end, then yes, she should be okay.”

“And then what?”

He began running his fingers through the bottom of her hair, pulling out small tangles. “She will take time to recover...”

“That isn’t what I mean Gilbert.” Marilla’s voice had gone completely cold.

Gilberts hand stopped, his eyes travelling to the older women. “Marilla...” He started.

“Are you going to leave her again?” Marilla glared at him, her pointed hawk eyes staring into the depths of his soul. “Leaving us to let the rest of us pick up the pieces of the broken woman you left behind?” Her words were that of venom, her anger of his departure no longer able to be hidden behind politeness. “Because if that is your plan, to destroy her heart once more then perhaps she is better off...” her voice caught, a sob slipping through as she sat on the bed and rested a hand on Anne’s arm.

He leaned over top of Anne, careful to not place any weight on her and grabbed Marilla’s hand. “Marilla… I am calling off my engagement.” Marilla’s mouth sat agape in shock of the news she had just been told. Gilbert licked his lips and looked over to Anne. There was no one out in the world for him other than Anne Shirley-Cuthbert and he had left her behind. How could one man make such a horrible mistake? “I was a fool. A selfish, ridiculous fool.” His voice was hoarse. Despite the words being directed towards Marilla, they were truly meant for himself. “The mistakes I have made. The hurt I have caused… I fear I will never be able to atone for them.” Gilbert glanced up to Marilla, who was swiping a stray tear from her eyes. “I am so sorry Marilla. So truly sorry for everything. I have done so many things wrong… I’m not sure if I will ever do anything right.”

She flipped her hand over and held tight to his. “You have made mistakes, Gilbert Blythe. That much is for certain.” He dipped his chin, only for it to be immediately lifted by Marilla’s free hand. “But those made in the past cannot be changed. What is important now is how you grow and learn from those mistakes and how you can prepare for what is to come.”

Gilbert’s eyes burned, tears creating rivers down his cheeks. "I have hurt you all so much Marilla. I have been cruel to Bash, said horrible, heartless things to him. Oblivious to how all of you were feeling. You should all hate me..."

Marilla rounded the bed, placing herself next to him and cupping his face firmly between both of her hands. "You listen here Gilbert Blythe, you push that thought right from your head.” He let out another sob, the tears continuing to pour as Marilla swiped them away with her thumbs. “Bash, Anne, Delphine, Hazel, Diana, Cole. We are your family and we support one another through the darkest of times. We pick each other up when we fall. You have helped us all up at some point or another when we could barely stand.” His lungs were hurting now, he wanted to wail but he fought back to not wake Anne. Marilla continued to stroke his cheeks, wiping every tear before it fell. “Now this time, it is us who have been waiting to pick you up." She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close to her and placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head. “And always know, my darling boy, that we will never stop loving you.”

Gilbert’s entire body shook as he sobbed into her arms. She held him close and let him release every pent up feeling he had held in. Minutes ticked by slowly, the tears flowed but his sobbing ceased, for the tears were no longer out of sadness. Now they were from the relief he didn’t know he needed. Gilbert was home, truly finally home.

———

That night, with Marillas approval, he was allowed to stay in Anne’s room to keep an eye on her. If it was any other situation, he was sure that she would have denied him without hesitation. But as they all sat around the table that evening, each exhausted from the long, stressful day, Anne awoke with such a wail, it would most likely give Gilbert nightmares for weeks. And the sight he saw when he entered Anne’s room, that would surely haunt him for the rest of his days.

Anne flailed violently, the entire bed shaking under her. “Oh my God,” Diana, who had been following close behind with Roy and Cole, gasped and brought her hand over her mouth. Gilbert ran to the bed, immediately rolling Anne onto her side. As her eyes rolled back in her head, he began tracking the length of the seizure. One, two, three-

“What’s happening?” Marilla wailed, running down the hall. She let out a loud cry, stumbling back into Cole’s outstretched arms. “What’s happening to her Gilbert?”

“She’s seizing!” He pulled a few pillows from under head, allowing her lay flat. Thirty-three, thirty-four.

“Will it kill her?” Gilbert swallowed and tried to focus his attention on his counting. Forty, forty-o... “Will she die Gilbert!” Marilla screamed, Cole’s arms being the only thing to keep her upright. “You answer me right this moment!”

“I don’t know!” He snapped, silencing the older woman. “Now everyone, shut up and let me count.” The only noise filling the room was the rattling of Anne’s bed as she continued shaking. Seventy-one, seventy-two, seventy… Anne’s body began to slow its movements, the seizure had come to its end. Her lids remained heavy, her breathing shallow. Everyone except Gilbert exhaled in unison when she let out a single cough.

“Her fever is rising. And if the seizure is any indication, it’s high.” Gilbert said.. “Diana, open the window.” Diana nodded, still in disbelief of what had just happened, and ran to lift the window pane. Gilbert threw Mary’s quilt off of Anne, causing her to shiver.

“What…” Anne whispered, her head rolling towards Gilbert.

“Anne-girl, you just had a seizure. Your fever is elevating and you need to cool down. I’m going to bring you over to the window.” Gilbert picked Anne up in his arms, not evening pausing for a response. He carried her over to the window where he held her close enough that the cool September air could cool her.

As the wind blew in through the window, her eyes opened wider but continued to shiver within his arms. “Don’t leave me Gil. Please don’t leave,” she sobbed quietly into his shirt, her words barely audible.

“Never again,” Gilbert whispered, sliding down the wall so she lay in his lap. He held her close, allowing his body heat to help cease her chills. “Never again,” he repeated, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead.

Marilla sobbed into Cole’s chest, his own terror clear on his face as Roy wrapped both of them in his arms. Diana appeared on the verge of passing out from a combination of exhaustion and fear. It wasn’t until he felt her go limp in his arms and her breathing steady did he bow his head and did something he hadn’t done since he had lost Mary. He prayed.

———

Soft, golden light was streaming through the window when Gilbert decided it was safe to move away from the cool air. Anne’s fever had lowered slightly in the night and he had decided it safe to wrap her in blankets for a few hours. When he went to rise, he noticed his backside was numb from sitting on the floor all evening and he legs felt like jelly. Sitting on a wood floor all night, not your best plan, Gil. He scolded himself, forcing both he and Anne up into a standing position, noticing for the first time just how little Anne was. She’s lost weight so quickly.

Gilbert yawned as he adjusted her into a better position. His eyes were heavy, begging to close and run away from the world if only for a moment. He carefully stepped over a sleeping Diana, who had made a makeshift bed to stay close if help was needed, and placed Anne gently on the bed.

He tucked the blankets tightly around her shivering body and stacked an additional pillow under her head. She let out a collection of coughs, none intense enough to wake her from her deep slumber. A familiar smell wafted through the door as Gilbert rubbed his eyes and demanded they remain open a little while longer.

“Coffee,” Gilbert whispered as he inhaled the scent. Anne stirred in the bed, almost as if she could sense that he was going to exit the room. In truth, he dreaded the thought of leaving her, especially after the promise he had made. But he had been awake for over twenty-four hours and had a feeling he wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime in the near future. He needed coffee. Anne would also be coming do for a breathing treatment as well as another round of medicine. “I’ll be back in a moment, Anne-girl,” he whispered close to her ear, pushing hair away from her eyes.

He stepped over Diana, pausing for a moment to cover her with a blanket that had been kicked off during the night. “Thanks Di.” She snuggled the blanket close, mumbling something along the lines of thank you before drifting back off.

The smell of coffee carried him down the hall, almost as if the magic scent was moving his body for him. Sounds of laughter and silverware clacked against china echoed up the steps. He took the first few steps when a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

“You mean to tell me that skinny little Blythe, who is like half of your size, did that to your face?” Gilberts stomach did a backflip as he took one additional step, peering around the wall to see a full table. Roy and Cole sat on the far end closest to the fire, while Marilla, who looked in desperate need of additional time in her bed, sat at the head with a wild Delly bouncing on her lap. Hazel scurried around the table, depositing freshly fried eggs onto every ones plates.

“I thoughts I had him at firsts.” Roy said, his cut lip now swollen to the size of a small stone. Hazel scooped the last of the eggs onto his plate. “Thanks yous, Miss Lacroixs.”

She nodded, her lips curled in a tight smile as she fought off a laugh and went to filling the coffee cups resting on the table.

The man sitting with his back to the stairs let out a hearty laugh. “I’m gonna be honest, I’m impressed with him. So what did ya say about Queen Anne to earn that type of beating?” Hazel snapped a towel, the corner flicking hard against his neck. He brought a hand up to the sting. “Ow, what was that for Ma?”

Hazel rolled her eyes, looking expectantly at him. “Honestly Sebastian Lacroix, that is not a discussion for the breakfast table.”

“Ah, so save it for lunch.” He couldn’t see Bash’s face but he knew that he was giving his signature grin, which earned a second, less serious eye roll from his mother. Gilbert smirked, feeling comfortable enough to take the rest of the steps. The sounds for forks scraping against plates ceased as the kitchen floor creaked beneath his feet. All members of the table, save one who couldn’t quite bring his eyes from the plate in front of him, stared at him.

Gilbert held up an awkward hand in greeting. “Mornin’.”

“Unsel Gilbur!” His niece rejoiced, leaping from Marillas lap and barreled over.

He bent down, forgetting his exhaustion, and caught her when she jumped into his outstretched arms. He blew a gentle raspberry against her cheek, earning a tiny squeal in return. She grabbed hold of his cheeks, pushing his face away with a toothy grin before brushing her nose with his, their secret greeting. “Good morning, my angel.”

She cast a glance over his shoulder, half expectanting another to come down behind him. “Where Auntie?”

Hazel’s eyes widened, as if her grandchild had just brought up a taboo subject. “Delphine,” she said sternly.

Gilbert locked eyes with her and shook his head. Delphine Lacroix was a smart child, perhaps one of the smartest Gilbert had ever known. And she had a right to know what was going on with one of the most significant people in her life. *Especially if Anne... He pushed the thought from his head and instead went to explaining in a way he felt wouldn’t cause the young girl much distress. “Angel, you know how at times your belly hurts or your throat feels scratchy?” She nodded her head. “Well, that means you’re sick. And Auntie,” he paused, finding himself struggling to speak. Delly’s doe eyes stared up at him, hanging from his every word. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Auntie is sick, more sick than just a belly ache or a scratchy throat.”

“Oh.” She considered his words before asking. “Ring Auntie treats?” Gilbert smiled, amazed that her young mind associated illness with receiving treats from Anne.

“Not right now, angel,” he spoke softly, hoping his niece would understand.

She contemplated his words again, this time shrugging her shoulders and pointed to the table. “Me hungry.”

Gilbert chuckled softly. “Me hungry too. Let’s go eat.”

He carried her over to the table and dropped into a chair with her on his lap. Hazel brought over a plate of eggs, toast, and perfectly paired with a piping hot cup of coffee. “Thank you, Hazel.”

“Of course,” she said hesitantly. Gilbert buttered the slice toast and handed it to his niece, who began happily munching away on it as he reached for the coffee. He brought the black liquid to his lips and took a large sip. It was as thick as sludge and burned his tongue the moment it entered his mouth but he found himself not caring. After all the events from this weekend, he would drink dish water if it would keep him awake for a while longer.

It was only after drinking half of the mug did he finally notice everyone’s eyes were silently trained on him, no one touching their food or making a peep. The only exception being Bash, who seemed rather enthralled with shoving his eggs off in different directions on his plate. Please look at me. Gilbert wished silently. Please Bash, just give me some sign that you don’t hate me.

Cole was the first to break the awkward silence and asked the question that they all were holding on their tongues. “How is she?”

Gilbert wiped his eyes and adjusted Delphine on his lap. “She had a few additional fits in the night. Each lasting at least sixty seconds.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. Why was the coffee taking so long to kick in? “Her fever thankfully broke enough for her to sleep.”

“That’s a good sign rights?” Roy asked. Gilbert finally caught a good look at the mans face and fought back a grimace at the large bruises and cuts.

“Yes and no.” Gilbert sighed. “It’s good that it went down, but it wasn’t going without a fight. I’m sure we haven’t seen the last of it. She also has started having her coughing fits again.” He took another sip of his coffee and looked across the table at Marilla, the bags under her eyes most likely a reflection of his own. “We should do another breathing treatment, keep her lungs clear.”

“Roy and I will be in charge of water, running it to and fro?” Cole asked.

“It would be appreciated.” Gilbert stabbed an egg in the middle. “Finish up your breakfast and then head out to get started.” He shoved the entire egg in his mouth, chewing thoroughly to not choke. “Hazel…”

“Swallow first.” She scolded. Gilbert forced the eggs down with a loud gulp, earning a giggle from Delly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Could you please grab the herbs in that bag by the fireplace and begin boiling a kettle? Anne is due for medicine.” Hazel nodded curtly and went about her task.

“And what of me?” Marilla asked, her weary eyes constantly drifting up to the steps. Despite his insistence that she sleep last night, she was up almost hourly checking through a crack in the door to see how her daughter was doing. She tried to stay away, give him space to care for Anne but he would hear her soft sobs coming from just outside the door after a particularly bad coughing fit or seizure.

“You should rest, Mar...”

“As should you,” she snapped. Immediately she took a deep breath and regained her composure. “Just tell me what to do Gilbert.”

He shook his head, he could never win in an argument with Marilla even when he was well rested so what was the point of trying to on no sleep. “Water. She needs to drink. The last time she managed to get down any way from a cup was last afternoon. When we tried to give her some last night, she could barely swallow. So you’re going to need to...” he looked down at Delly, who was paying the conversation no mind as she fed the last bites of her toast to her doll. He still made an effort to keep his voice low so as not to frighten her. “Moisten a rag and put it in her mouth.” Marillas eyes widened. “I know, it sounds barbaric but she is burning from the inside. She needs to hydrate. If she doesn’t...” He let his voice trail off, knowing all those present in the room didn’t need to hear the ending for that sentence to understand it.. “And I’m going to…”

“You’re going to rest,” Bash interrupted, speaking for the first time since Gilbert had walked down the steps. Bash shoveled the last bits of his eggs into his mouth and walked his plate over to the sink.

Gilbert tried to find words. “I have things I need to...”

“Yes, like sleep.” Bash didn’t turn, instead his focus was on the water he began pumping into the sink. “You look like hell, Blythe. Worse than the time foreman made you shovel coal for twelve hours after you sang one too many songs.” He picked up his plate and began scrubbing it gently. “Maybe take time to bathe too, you’re starting to smell worse than a latrine after bean stew day. We can hold down the fort while you take care of yourself for an hour.”

“I can’t do that. I need to be there for her.”

Bash threw down the brush in the soapy water. “*Dammit Blythe, would you stop being so stubborn for once?!”

Stunned silence engulfed the room. The only sound came from the water rushing from the spout and the gentle popping from the fresh log Hazel had just placed in the fire. Even Delly seemed surprised by her fathers outburst, her doll slipping from her small fingers and landing on the floor. Bash exhaled slowly and picked the brush out of the basin and began scrubbing harder.

Marilla cleared her throat. “Well, we all have jobs,” She scooted her chair back and stood. “Best get to it, come along boys.” She began gathering plates, nudging Cole slightly when he didn’t move from his seat.

“Uh yeah. We better...” Cole rose, still staring between the two men..

“Gose. Wese betters gose.” Roy finished, half shoving Cole out the door. Marilla and Hazel shared a glance as Marilla took the kettle and poured its contents into the same cup Gilbert used yesterday.

Hazel cleared her throat. “Uh Delphine,” Delly paused her futile attempts to reach for her doll and looked to her Grandmother. “How about we go and see how Mr. Baynard is doin’ out in the barn?”

Delly shook her head, holding tight to Gilbert’s shirt. “Gilbur come.”

“Delphine,” Hazel scolded. Delly responded by digging her head deep into her uncle's chest. “Delphine Mary Lacroix.” She shook her head, pushing her forehead hard against his sternum.

The pain made Gilbert break his gaze. “Del, listen to Gram Gram please.” She shook her head again, her brown curls bouncing back and forth. He bit his lip, for once hating the stubbornness that she had inherited from him. A horse brayed from just beyond the window, an idea coming to him.

“Hey angel,” Gilbert placed tender fingers under her chin, lifting so her glistening doe eyes were staring back at him. “Auntie Anne is sick, right?” She nodded her head slowly. “Then who is brushing Belle, Butterscotch, and Midnight? And making sure they’re getting their treats?”

Delly’s eyes widened as she leapt off of her uncle's lap and bounded for the door. “Gram gram! Come! Horsies!” She threw open the door, slamming it hard against the wall and running through it.

“Del… Delphine! Wait for me child!” Hazel barrelled after her grandchild, the faintest traces of a smile forming on her lips.

Bash and Gilbert were the only two to remain, the bristles scraping against the porcelain being the only thing to break the silence between the pair. Gilbert stared at his brothers back, anxiety taking hold. *What do I say to him? I need to apologize. I need to tell him how deeply sorry I...

“If you’re finished with your plate, could you bring it to me?” Bash requested as he deposited the final breakfast plate onto the counter.

“Oh uh, yes,” Gilbert mumbled as he stood and brought the plate over. Bash didn’t look up focusing solely on pumping more water into the sink. Handing off the plate, Gilbert finally began to muster courage to speak. “Bash, I want to...”

“You remember when we first heard about Mary? That there was nothing that could be done for her?” Bash interrupted, scrubbing hard against the plate.

“Uh, yes, I do…” Gilbert replied, feeling the slightest bit confused. “But Bash I want…”

Bash ignored him. “I was so angry. Angry at God, angry at doc, angry at Elijah… angry at myself. I hated myself the most, thinking how could I let this happen to my love. I was supposed to provide for her, protect her.” Gilbert watching his hand press harder into the plate with every word. “And I felt… I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone. No one could possibly understand my rage or my pain. I wanted to hide away from the world.” His hands ceased moving, his eyes drifting out the window. “And then you found me. And you told me you would be there for me. Always. So when I found out you would be gone...” Bash’s voice trailed off but Gilbert didn’t need him to finish, he understood now why he had been upset. It wasn’t because Bash would be taking on an additional load of work, it would be because he was losing one of the only remaining members of his family.

Gilbert stepped closer, reaching tentatively for his brothers shoulder. “Bash… I am so...”

Bash ignored him once again and began scrubbing the already pristine plate, his voice began to crack. “I thought to myself, he has no right to be angry at me. I am the one that is being left behind. You were running off to go live your perfect life with a pretty little wife. Leaving behind me and Delphine and your home. And then I remembered why you came back.” His words came out hoarse as he placed the plate down to be dried. “The woman you love, really truly love, is sick. Dying maybe. Which made me think… that maybe you are feelin’ the same anger I felt.” Bash finally met looked Gilbert head on, his eyes beginning to red around the rims. “I was selfish. I hope...”

Gilbert threw his arms around his brothers shoulders and squeezed as hard as he could. Bash’s breath quivered as he returned the hug, wrapping his arms so tightly around Gilberts chest that breathing became a challenge.

“I’m the one who is sorry, brother.” Gilbert mumbled into Bash’s shoulder. “I have been so oblivious to the world around me and focusing solely on my desires.” His voice broke as a sob was working it’s way up. “Mary...”

“Would be so proud of you.” Bash pulled away, grasping tightly to his brothers shoulders.

Gilbert shook his head. “No she wouldn’t. She would be ashamed of the mess I made.”

Bash chuckled. “You have caused a right good mess, haven’t you?” Gilbert smirked as Bash patted his cheek. “No Blythe, she would be proud that you are learning from your mistakes. And through each one, you have found your way home. And more importantly,” he threw his chin over his shoulder to the stairs, “You made your way back to her.”

Gilbert knitted his eyebrows together. “How do you...”

“I know that temper of yours only flares up when Anne is involved. And by the look of that rich boy’s face, I would say it exploded.”

Gilbert touched his scabbed knuckles instinctively, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. “Yeah… may have gone a tad too far.”

“No kiddin’.” They exchanged knowing glances, immediately bursting in roars is hearty chuckles. He should feel guilty, knowing that Anne was upstairs struggling deeply, but he had to admit: the laughter felt good after days filled with fear and anger. It made it feel like old times, times before Paris and engagements. Before times of lossed loved ones.

At the thought of Mary, Gilbert’s stomach dropped. There was one last aspect he needed forgiveness for. “Bash,” Gilbert said seriously.

Bash stopped chuckling but a smile still played on his lips all the same. “Yes Blythe.”

Gilbert inhaled nervously. “I need to let you know how deeply I regret the cruel words I said about you and Mary.” Bash’s smile faded, suddenly realize just how serious this conversation has turned. Gilbert continued, “I have never thought that those things about either of you. Or of your marriage. I know the love the two of you shared… it was something of pure magic.” Bash nodded slowly, digesting the words. Gilbert began to grow anxious at the silent response he was receiving. “I hope one day you can forgive me or I can find a way to atone for them.”

Bash stopped nodding and rubbed his chin. “You finished?” Gilbert bit his lip and nodded. Bash grabbed hold of his brothers shoulder, readying to pull him into what Gilbert thought would be another hug and smiled softly. Gilbert smiled back, relief washing over him for the briefest of moments until he felt a fist plunged into his stomach.

“Christ Bash,” he sputtered as he doubled over. He couldn't catch his breath and felt the beginnings of his breakfast wanting to make a reappearance.

Bash smirked as helped his stumbling brother over to the sink, clapping him gently on the back. “It’s alright Blythe,” Gilbert spit into the sink as his mouth began to salivate. “Let it out.” Bash rubbed his back, a laugh laying in his tone.

“A little...” More saliva in the sink. “Warning would have been ni...” He gagged, unable to hold down the entirety of his breakfast from falling into the sink. .

“Ah! There we go!” Bash cheered, handing Gilbert the towel he has slung over his shoulder. “Good to know you can throw a punch better than you can take one.”

Gilbert glared at his laughing brother as he swiped the towel from him.“Yeah. We even?” He asked as he wiped his mouth.

Bash smirked, holding out his hand. “For now.” Gilbert rolled his eyes and threw the vomit covered towel at Bash’s chest. He caught it before it hit him, mocking disgust before tossing it aside before holding his arms out to hug Gilbert. “Come here, Gilby Goo.”

He happily accepted the hug, holding tight to Bash once more. “Love you Bash,” Gilbert whispered into his brother's shirt.

“Paris made you soft brother,” Bash said it jokingly but the tone of his voice was filled with an underlying tone of love. Gilbert understood that in his brothers own special way, that the insult was his own way of expressing his love for him.

The kitchen door slammed open and they quickly pulled apart from the other just in time to see Delly skip into the kitchen, sights set directly on her father and uncle. She ran over to them, jumping up excitedly as she announced. “Papa, Gilbur! Pretty lady here!”

Bash and Gilbert exchanges glances, knowing all too well that there was only one person Delly referred to as the “pretty lady”.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, ma’am! Here, let me take those heavy cases for you.” Hazel said from the porch.

A soft voice responded. “Oh, Miss Lacroix, you don’t need to-“

“Nonsense! You have travelled all this way, the least I can do is help you with your bags!” The screen door creaked open.

“This should be fun.” Bash mumbled under his breath as he placed a gentle hand on his daughter’s shoulders.

“Well actually they’re for Gilbert…” Her voice was tender as she stepped over the threshold. Gilbert swallowed as his eyes glued immediately to the woman’s face, which glowed with a radiant smile and sparkling sapphire eyes. The dark shade of blue on her dress flattered each of her curves perfectly and should have left him breathless but it never did. When her eyes found Gilbert’s, her entire demeanor seemed to falter, the air of elegance turning into something much less.

“It is so kind of you to bring Gilbert’s things.” Hazel busseled in the door behind Winnie, her tone still excites from the new company. “I’m sure he will appreciate… my lord Gilbert, are you feelin’ well?” Hazel questioned.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gilbert saw Bash pointing to the corner of his mouth, indicating a stray egg that he had missed with the towel. Gilbert quickly swiped the back of his hand across his lips, wiping away any last traces of vomit and nodded. “Just ate too quickly this morning.” He said with an awkward laugh.

“Anyway,” Hazel said slowly, clearly unconvinced. “Miss Rose has arrived with your things,” Lifting a dark leather case. *Yet another gift from your supposed in-laws. Gilbert bit his lip at the thought as Hazel continued. “Where would you like to me to put them?”

Words suddenly became foreign to him. He couldn’t find himself focus on any one word or person. Not with Winnie standing in the same room as him, giving him an expression he couldn’t clearly read. To him, deciding to break off the engagement has been easy, but now, seeing the woman whose heart he was going to break before the day was out...he felt like Bash has punched him in the gut for a second time.

Bash looked between the young couple, sensing the tension. He cleared his throat and nudged Delly slightly to the side as he reached for the bag. “Here Ma, why don’t we leave Blythe’s suitcase here and then head back out to the barn? Give these two some time alone.”

Confusion crossed Hazel’s face until she looked between the young couple staring at one another. “Ah yes of course. Uh, here.” She handed her son the suitcase and awkwardly continued to look between the young couple. Bash tossed the bag back into Gilbert’s chest, which he caught blindly. He couldn’t seem to move his eyes away from Winnie as he still tried to figure out her expression.

Delly shifted anxiously. “Me hungry!” She declared loudly.

Hazel rolled her eyes. “I swear child, you are going to eat us all out of house and home!” It was meant to ease the tension that seemed to be ever growing but it fell short.

Bash smiled down at his daughter and picked her up. “Come along my sweets. Let’s let Uncle Gilby and Miss Rose have some space.”

She crossed her arms and scolded her father. “Papa, Unsle Gilbur.”

“Right right, Unsle Gilbur, not Gilby.” Bash laughed, stepping towards the door before giving a small nod to Winnie. “Always a pleasure, Winnie.”

Winifred finally broke her stare with Gilbert and offered a polite smile. “As you, Sebastian.” He smiled in return, shooting a glance over to Gilbert before carrying his daughter out the door to play outside.

Wisps of curls moved slightly as the door closed behind her and her gaze returned to Gilbert. “Hello,” she said, the corners of her mouth lifting as she addressed him for the first time.

“Hi,” was all Gilbert could squeak out, his leather bag being held tightly to his chest. Winifred bit her lip, both appearing to be lost for words once more.

“I can make you something while I make Delly a snack Miss Rose!” Hazel sputtered out. Both sets of eyes traveled over to her in confusion as she laughed awkwardly. “Yes, that’s what I will do. I’ll make you something.” She immediately walked to the stove, grabbing pots and pans from the shelf above. “Eggs, toast?”

“Oh, no thank you Miss Lacroix. I won’t...” She stopped herself. “I’m not hungry at the moment. Thank you kindly for the offer though.”

“Oh,” Hazels face fell. Her eyes scanned the room quickly before landing on a basket of fruit. “Well I uh, I will take Delphine her snack!” Grabbing a plump red apple from the bowl and shining on her apron. “Ah perfect. I uh, will leave you two be, then.” Her words fell upon deaf ears as she exited the kitchen.

Gilbert shifted his weight, wondering what to say to make this any easier on her. He just needed to muster some courage but none seemed like it would come. Just get it over with. It’s going to hurt her either way. “Win...”

“You should go get changed.” She interrupted with urgency.

Gilbert’s jaw sat slacked. “Uh…”

Winnie took a deep breath, her voice calmer and said, “Sorry, I just mean, perhaps you would like to change before we talk. You’re in the same clothes I saw you in on Saturday.”

Gilbert bit the inside of his cheek, realizing she was correct. He desperately wanted to get out of the clothes that Anne had been coughing all over for days. Another realization dawned. It had only been a little over a day since he had last seen Winifred. And somehow, within that time frame, he had decided to break off the engagement and realized his true feelings for Anne.

“I’ll, uh, be right back,” he mumbled, trying to not reveal his shock and clambered up the stairs.

——

Gilbert splashed water from the basin on his face before glancing back up at himself in the mirror. The man he was staring at was similar to the one he saw a few nights ago. His chestnut curls cling to his face and his eyes were beginning to red around the edges, but he looked older, like this weekend had aged him. Or perhaps it was simply the lack of sleep. He knew he should close his eyes for a short while but with the height of his anxiety, he knew that wouldn’t be possible. Okay Gilbert, you can do this. It is not good for either of you to drag this out any longer.

He readied to head out the door, even went so far as grabbing the door knob before turning around and started pacing about Jerry’s room. “For Lord’s sake Gilbert,” he whispered quietly to himself. “You just need to get it over with.” After everything she’s done for you. Her family has done for you, you’re just going to break her heart. Two years you’ve been engaged! Two years! What kind of monster are you?

Gilbert groaned, shaking his head and sending water flying about the room. He had to do this. It would be a cruel disservice to continue along with this engagement when he knew that he loved another. Winnie was a wonderful woman and she deserved someone that would give her his heart fully. “Alright, I can do this.” His voice shook, trying hard to find any small amount of courage.

He caught a glance at himself in the mirror once more and straightened himself. “You have to do this.” He said with more confidence. Turning towards the door and this time without hesitation, he took the knob and clicked the door open, entering the hallway. Anne’s door sat ajar, a soft voice flowing from its opening.

“When Dorothy stood in the doorway and looked around, she could see nothing but the great gray prairie on every side,” he peered through the crack. Winnie sat in the chair next to Anne’s bed, an emerald book cracked open in her hands. Her voice was melodic as she read, not filled with the passion and vivacity that Anne would, but it was calming. “Not a tree nor a house broke the broad sweep of flat country that reached to the edge of the sky in all directions. The sun had baked the plowed land...”

He rapped his knuckles gently against the oak door, causing Winnie to jump and the book slipping from her fingers onto the floor. She looked at him, holding her hand to her chest. “Oh darling, you frightened me.”

“You shouldn’t be here, Win,” he whispered, not out of cruelty but of concern.

Winifred rolled her eyes and bent to pick up the fallen book, closing it and placing it gently on Anne’s bedside table. “Honestly Gilbert, I work in a doctor’s practice. I’m not frightened by the sick.” She glanced to Anne, whose breathing quivered as she shook from her chills. Winnie pulled the quilt up just below Anne’s chin. “Besides, someone needed to sit with her. Diana, who looked almost as ghastly as you, needed to go eat and clean herself up. And Miss Cuthbert went to check on how the water boiling was coming along.” She reached into the water basin beside the bed, ringing out a cool rag before placing it on Anne’s burning forehead. “Not to mention, I am also someone who hasn't been awake for two days and don’t mind taking care of a friend while the rest of you rest for a moment.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond, so instead he let his eyes drift to the book. “That is the book you got for her in Paris, right?” He asked as he crossed the room and picked it up. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz was written across the center in metallic gold lettering.

Winnie nodded, her eyes not quite meeting Gilberts. “I figured she would rather hear a story than anything I have to say.”

Gilbert looked down and saw an expression that surprised him. Her features were not filled with anger or envy, but instead they looked calm and slightly sad. “Miss Cuthbert said she seized last evening,” she whispered sadly, her eyes not leaving Anne’s scarlet cheeks.

“Yes,” he put the book down and bent over to adjust the rag on Anne’s forehead so water wouldn’t soak her hair. Slowly, he moved stray curls behind her ear before he went to wiping a stray droplet of water from her cheek. “She seems okay for now. Tired. But I’m expecting it to spike again soon.” He pulled away, realizing his hands lingered much too long.

Winifred bit her lip. “Darling?” she said to grab his attention.

“Hmm?”

“When Miss Cuthbert returns, will you walk with me? ”

He breathed deeply, knowing that the minute he was alone with her, he would have to do the task he was dreading. “I shouldn’t stray too far from here…”

“Just a short one, only to the edge of Green Gables.” He pulled his stare from the sleeping woman and looked at the one standing across from him. Her eyes had begun to glisten. She knows. “Please.”

Now's the time for you to be a man, Gilbert. “Okay.”

#anne of green gables #anne with an e #anne shirley-cuthbert #gilbert blythe #gilbert and anne #gilbert x anne #anne and gilbert #shirbert #shirbert fic #anne with an e fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #awae #awae fanfic

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elopez7228 · 4 years ago

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Scenic Route 18/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

“Fucking hell!” Ben yelled as his coffee mug shattered against the bedroom wall.

Rey had left the premises. Yesterday he’d had her, in every sense of the word, and this morning she had turned on him. He had been this close—this fucking close—to getting her to trust him for good.

To getting into her panties you mean, snarked his subconscious, cause that would turn out so well.

Yeah, well so what? We’re both consenting adults here. What’s wrong with a little pleasure now and then?

It was Syed who sounded the alarm. As reckless and undisciplined as she was, she was still his best Knight of Ren. He would hate to fire her, even though he would not hesitate to do it, if necessary.

She had called him at three in the morning to inform him that Rey Jakku had repacked her car and left the parking lot; hitting the road again in record time.

Syed had followed yet again, evidently taking her assignment seriously. At least he would always know where his mystery girl was hiding.

On the other hand, he had just lost one of his guitarists for the concert this evening, which annoyed him more than he wanted to admit. But the advantage of having seven band members was that they could afford to run a few errands and still keep the show running.

Hayat and Neil, his two-person light and sound crew, would roll up in their van any minute now to set up the venue. The entire day would be devoted to equipment tests and a rapid dress-rehearsal of the set list, a task even more essential in the absence of Syed. Ben would have preferred to take his car and follow Rey, join her, tell her he was sorry—or whatever it would take to convince her to come back—and resume exactly where they had left off the day before.

She’d talked about following them on tour. Would she follow through?

His phone rang, the screen displaying a stern visage with a severely parted red combover.

Hux.

"Ren.” He uttered curtly, putting the phone up to his ear.

“Hello, Kylo. How are your holidays going?”

“Even on vacation I'm more efficient than you’ll ever be in the office. Let’s just say it’s going well.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re rehearsing for tonight's concert, the weather is nice and the hot tub is fantastic.” Ben replied with a smirk, knowing full well that Armitage Hux detested distractions.

The latter gave an exasperated sigh, as expected. "For fuck’s sake, I’m not the Yellowstone Tourism Office—I'm talking about your mission!”

“And what, exactly, do you want to know about my mission?”

“What are you doing and with whom? Did you get information on what Earth Soldiers is planning?”

"Are you saying you and Snoke are floundering?” Ben laughed. “Don’t you have an army of spies, and twice as many lawyers? How is my mother managing to outmaneuver you?”

"When I'm done with your mother, you'll have to pick her out of the gutter, Ren.”

"You’re all talk," Ben chuckled. “I feel like she’s playing with your head.”

There was a long silence filled only by Hux’s agitated breathing. His final response was venomous.”Exactly which side are you on? You seem to enjoy our setbacks a little too much.”

“I’m on my side,” he responded, “and I answer to Snoke and Snoke alone. Pay attention to your own mission and leave me to mine.”

He hung up without waiting for an answer. He knew what Hux was looking for: he wanted to know everything about Earth Soldiers' latest spy, Rey Jakku. But Ben would not give him anything of such importance. Rey was his mission, his target, his prize. Phasma had missed her chance. Too bad for her—From now on, Rey was his. And soon enough, she would be his in every sense of the word.

His phone vibrated again with a new call. This time, Ben's smile dissipated. It was Snoke.

“Sir?”

“Kylo Ren. I was waiting for a report from you this morning. Have I missed it by mistake? Because I don’t make mistakes.”

“No sir. I —I didn’t send one.”

“And you will send it to me at the end of this call, I suppose?”

“No sir.”

“Explain yourself.”

Snoke’s barely audible voice had lost its saccharine undertones. Ben inhaled deeply before uttering his next words.

“The—the girl escaped me. But I’m tracking her as we speak, I know exactly where she is and what she’s doing.”

“What exactly is your strategy, Kylo Ren? Follow her like a good little pet and contentedly snap up whatever pieces of information she deigns to give you?”

“No, I—I’m in control of the situation, sir.” Ben stammered, taken aback. “I will soon extract the information we need from her.”

Snoke had really gone for the kill. His strategy, which had been flawless as far as his argument with Hux was concerned, suddenly seemed doomed to fail.

Snoke continued: "Stop beating around the bush, Kylo Ren. Find her. Demand answers. Make it so. I want to know what she's scheming, her connection to Earth Soldiers, and especially whatever it is she has with Leia Skywalker.”

Ben Solo shuddered at hearing his mother's name laced with so much hatred. She hadn’t always been a good mother; she had rarely listened, and she had been far too absent. But she remained his mother, and she largely paid the price for his indiscretions, condemned to die of old age in solitude under her prefabricated tin roof. He clenched his fist and took another breath.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Oh, and Kylo Ren?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Stop blundering about like a teenage boy. She's the one manipulating you here. Enough games; I demand results.”

Ben frowned. Blundering? He hadn’t let anything slip, he was sure. He feigned ignorance:

“I fail to see what you're talking about, sir. I have the situation under control.”

"Don’t you dare lie to me, Kylo Ren. Do not forget what you owe me.”

“I won’t forget, sir.”

“Good. I'll call you back soon.”

And with that, he hung up.

Seconds later, he received a series of text messages from Snoke’s personal number. He selected the first, puzzled.

His heart skipped a beat.

It was a picture of him and Rey from the day before, passionately making out against a wall at the bar. His right hand disappeared under her dress and hers was visibly splayed against his fly.

There’s your blunder, Solo. How did Snoke find them? Who took these pictures?

Behind the wheel of her SUV, Syed drained a can of Red Bull and crushed the empty aluminium vessel between her fingers. She had hardly slept thanks to this wild goose chase of a mission. Just yesterday she had found herself forced to trudge through a six mile hike (off the main trail too, so as not to alert Jane Doe or her dog) after which she had to use her gun to chase off a bear...how was one girl able to cause her so much fatigue?

And it was a fucking bear, no less. It had taken all her concentration, all her will, to just aim close enough to hurt the bear to make it run away without a fatal injury—even as an assassin in the service of a nebulous multinational conglomerate, she was unwilling to kill a bear for no reason. Or kill the girl. At least by accident.

Definitely by accident.

It would have been so easy. An isolated bullet, fired from her vantage point atop the rocks, and the corpse would have been found three days later.

No more spy hunting, no more love triangles. Kylo would mourn for a few days of course, frustrated at not being able to add her to the notches on his bedpost, but she would console him instead, and everything would be back to normal.

Who was she kidding? Kylo would have immediately understood, and he would have killed her. Maybe literally, even. He would have resorted to making her life hell, or putting an end to it. He wouldn’t even need to get his hands dirty. An order to Shakti, or Skylar, and Syed would have had no chance. It would be impossible to face six knights alone.

"Patience," she repeated to herself. "The time will come, the girl will step out of his life, and everything will go back to normal. And you, you will shine in your devotion, he will respect even more, and he will come back to you.”

She had been surprised to see Rey tear herself away from Kylo's embrace the night before. As it were, she had expected her to fuck him on the spot.

But no, something had happened, Rey had adjusted her dress before striding off. Did Kylo say something stupid? That would be typical of him...all his bravado was a front.

Rey had returned to her car, and Syed had thought she was about to lose her mark. By the time she found her own vehicle, she had no idea what direction the Falcon had taken.

But she managed to find it at a campsite fifteen minutes later. Rey was huddled in a sweatshirt while crying her eyes out over the phone. Syed could only hear bits and pieces, but she was able to glean that Rey was calling contacts in England: her mother, a girlfriend, and a guy named Poe. Nothing of grand importance to FORCE, and not in connection with Earth Soldiers.

She was either the best spy Syed had ever encountered, or the most incompetent person in history. Perhaps this Rey debacle was a red herring, a little fantasy whipped up by the cunning Leia Skywalker. She knew FORCE hated the Millennium Falcon, the unofficial mascot of their resistance crew. It was genius, really. Put a no-name extra in there and have her drive aimlessly across the country. All the while FORCE mobilized an army of agents to track her, and Ren’s team spent precious time investigating a trap. Time that Skywalker spent plotting with her counsel. It was just a diversion.

Brilliant.

Nevertheless, there was only one way to find out for sure, and for that she had to keep spying on the girl, hour by hour.

Said girl refused to sleep, opting instead to take the road north. Access to Yellowstone was closed at night, so Rey had stopped at a nearby gas station to refuel, buy a coffee and a cold-cut sandwich, and take a nap in the back of her car.

She entered Yellowstone National Park at 9:30 AM, through the south gate. Syed followed, finding herself inching through the morning line, a few vehicles away. She cradled her face in her hands.

Yellowstone, really? Did Rey intend to engage in actual tourism?!

And why not? Rey was tired. Tired of having slept too little, tired of being alone, tired of having no one to talk to. As she drove through the national park in the direction of the Tourist Information Center and the infamous Old Faithful geyser, she wondered what she was fleeing, who she was fleeing.

Her mind kept coming back to Ben Solo. To his mouth, to his hands, to the outline of his body that she had been able to trace under his clothes. Why then was she running away? Finn had left her, after all; how long should she grieve what she had before?

She had admitted to Jessika yesterday how she had clung to Ben like a life raft against the tide of her own loneliness. But it had been too fast, too intense. She seemed to panic at the thought of having to let him go one day. It was the sinking sort of anxiety that had clung to her bones since childhood, the fear of being unloved, never good enough for her absentee parents who worked such long hours that they barely had time for her. It had been the same with Finn, she clung to him so desperately that she never saw the signs, however obvious they appeared in hindsight.

And eventually, Finn had rejected her too. Then she had left, alone, as if to prove to herself that she was capable of it; and had thrown herself—with an almost laughable sense of relief— into the arms of the next man she encountered.

Ben Solo seen through her very soul when he observed, aloud, that she feared loneliness. Was she so easy to read?

BB8 squeaked her toy and Rey smiled. She was never truly alone. She was the guardian of this adorable fur ball, and she was going to bring her back to her master, wherever he was hiding. It was simple: take care of the dog, bring her home. That she could do. At least then she was of use to someone.

On the passenger seat, her phone vibrated. Rey reached out and grabbed it without letting go of the steering wheel. A new text appeared on her lock screen.

It was Ben.

Sorry for last night, I hope he gets better and I hope you’re feeling better too. Will you make the concert tonight? Call me.

⁃Kylo

She made a face, he really had to sign it as Kylo.

What a bloody ridiculous stage name.

Rey had the feeling she was witnessing a veritable identity crisis: On one hand there was Ben Solo, the sentimental stranger who commiserated in her loneliness and wanted to befriend her dog. On the other there was Kylo Ren, the arrogant, leather clad rockstar who would kiss and tell, with absolutely no strings attached.

Who was she out with last night?

Which one of them did she kiss?

She wouldn’t go to the concert she decided, she didn’t feel like answering him either. But she knew his next show was going to be at West Yellowstone in two days.

In the meantime, she would have plenty of time to ruminate.

#Reylo #Fanfiction #scenic route #Modern AU

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arotechno · 5 years ago

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The Heartless: Chapter 1

In a world where those born without hearts are said to carry a dangerous curse, Ace has lived most of his life believing himself to be a monster. Now, seeking closure about the defining moment of his childhood, Ace embarks on a coming-of-age journey to learn the truth about what it means to be human.

Note: Yes, this is your surprise. Yes, this is just a draft. No, I don’t know when the other chapters will be coming. Yes, this is an aro story and you will just have to trust me. Yes, the main character’s name is Ace. This concept comes from a short story I wrote for a class over five years ago, and I assume I wrote him with being asexual in mind, but it doesn’t much matter to me whether or not you read him that way. Yes, I am aware that I’m risking readers conflating aromanticism and asexuality. No, I cannot bring myself to change his name. You try working with the same character over a five year period and then attempting to bring yourself to change his name. And no, I have no idea how archery works but I’ll be damned if I don’t pretend I do. I’ll shut up now.

When the winter first melted into spring, Basil and I crept to the edge of the woods behind our houses to pick wildflowers in the meadow. It was still too early for raspberries; in the summer, we’d fill our baskets and our stomachs with them until our mouths were stained red with juices. Our mothers would bake pies in the afternoon and we’d eat them in the evening, cleaning every last scrap from our dinner plates with the promise of a sweet dessert. Now, the earth was still cool beneath our bare feet, our toes wiggling in the soft dirt. Once we’d filled our fists with flowers, we settled in the tall grass and began weaving together goldenrod, daisies, and violets into flower crowns and daisy chains.

Basil presented his work and beamed at me, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun with the back of his hand. “Take it, I want you to wear it,” he urged, thrusting the flower crown into my lap.

“But you worked so hard on it,” I replied.

He shrugged and brushed dirt from his tanned knees. “I want you to have it,” he insisted, reaching forward and taking the crown from my lap to place it gently on my head.

“In that case, I want you to have mine, too,” I decided, pressing the crown onto Basil’s head as a couple more leaves fluttered to the ground.

Basil grinned a mile wide, practically radiating sunshine with every inch of his being. “Now we match,” he giggled.

“We’ll be friends forever, right, Basil?” I asked after a while, sheepishly adjusting my flower crown.

“Of course we will,” he responded. “Even when we’re old!”

“How old? Like, eighteen? That’s super old!”

Basil laughed. “Yeah! Eighteen and then even older!”

I smiled hopefully. “We can still make flower crowns?”

“Ace, when we’re eighteen, I’ll still make you all the flower crowns you want,” Basil decreed with a grin. “That’s a promise.”

The warmth of the sun and Basil’s innocent smile faded as I woke up to last night’s rain dripping down on me from the cracks in the ceiling above. Bertrand stood over me, jostling me awake with one hand while the other hand held a vial of another one of his concoctions. I assumed I had fallen asleep after supper, because the dishes remained untouched by the washbasin and twilight was just pouring in through the window.

“Drink up,” Bertrand commanded in that voice of his that just begged to be disobeyed, holding the potion in front of me expectantly as if to remind me of the curse that filled the vacant space within me. He stared at me with piercing eyes over the top of his growing gray beard, sloshing the vial back and forth for emphasis.

I grabbed it from his wrinkly hand and sloshed the red liquid around in disgust before shutting my eyes and downing it in one gulp, just to appease him. Even so, I rested a hand against my chest, but still I felt nothing. Shaking my head, I rose from my cot and pushed past Bertrand, grabbing my bow and arrow off of the hook by the door and slinging it over my shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Bertrand called after me.

“Out,” I answered, already halfway out the rickety wooden door.

“It’s past nightfall, Ace, it’s dangerous out there!”

But I was already gone, walking away from the old house as the door slammed shut behind me with a satisfying thud.

But I suppose that is to be expected when you do not have a heart.

The Village of the Heartless was smaller than the town where I grew up. A single dirt road ran from the village gates to the top of the hill, coming to a stop at the edge of the woods that surrounded the kingdom. We were a close-knit community, learning to provide and look out for each other in the harshness of our everyday lives.

Nights in the Village of the Heartless were always dark, as we could never afford enough oil to keep all of the town’s lamps lit, but they were rarely quiet. Thugs from neighboring towns wandered the village at night, brandishing knives in their grimy hands, looking to stir up trouble. Tonight was no different; as I neared the village limits, I caught a glimpse of a pair of kids making their way down the road, and a thrill shot up my spine. I climbed swiftly up the oak tree and perched in the shadow of its lush, leafy branches, fingers itching for my bow.

“Get away, get away!” she shrieked, dodging a blow as she fell to the ground, clutching the bag to her torso desperately.

“What’s the matter, little runt?” one of the thugs sneered. “You’re not afraid of a couple of kids, are you?”

“I just wanted something to eat!” the girl cried out as a likely filthy knife narrowly missed her cheek.

If I had been in my right mind, I would have simply shot the pair of thugs in the shoulder, snatched up the child, and run away, but Basil’s face kept flashing in my mind; an anger was boiling in my gut that demanded confrontation.

“Hey, ugly!” I shouted, pulling back an arrow and pointing it in their direction.

“Who’re you talking to?” he grumbled.

“Doesn’t matter,” I quipped, hopping down from my perch and tightening my grip on the arrow. “Just let the kid go.”

“Why should I?” he retorted, nonetheless taking a step back when he saw the arrow aimed directly at his head. “Y-You’re not really going shoot that.”

“How do you know?”

The other kid called out, “Hey, let’s just get out of here.” He was ignored.

I allowed myself a bitter, self-indulgent smirk. “If that’s what you believe, that I am entirely emotionless, then wouldn’t it also stand to reason that I would feel no remorse about ending your sorry life right here and now? If that’s the case, then it would seem you had better start running.”

Knife Boy froze, taking a few steps back before he and his friend took off running in the direction they came. “Cursed bastards!” he yelled over his shoulder as he hopped the gate and disappeared. Once they were out of sight, I let my arms drop to my side and slung my bow back over my shoulder. I felt my brow furrow in frustration; life in the village had become so mundane that I was almost hoping for a fight. The girl, who had stayed completely still on the ground throughout the whole ordeal, scrambled to her feet, still clutching the bag in her white-knuckled hands. Now, up close, I recognized her immediately.

“That was awesome! How did you know what to say?” she beamed, slinging the canvas sack over her shoulder and wiping the dirt from a pair of ratty pants that fell three inches from her ankles.

“Petra, you’re the one who’s been stealing food from the neighboring villages?” I asked her, and her expression soured immediately at having been caught.

I nodded, mulling it over. “Sure, now I suppose I can’t blame you for that, but stealing is wrong. You’re plenty old enough to know that.”

“Of course, I know that, but I needed food!”

“Fine, I get it, I get it,” I sighed. “Just don’t make this a habit, got it? I promised Annie I would keep you out of trouble.”

Petra pouted. “Fine,” she mumbled. I started back up the hill, with Petra trotting silently alongside me.

Now twelve years old, Petra had lived in the Village of the Heartless since she was a baby—which was still longer than I’d been around—left outside the home of one of the village women, Annie, in the middle of the night. I’d met her several years ago, and she quickly became enthralled with my stories of life outside the village. Annie was dead several months now, leaving Petra to fend mostly for herself.

“You didn’t tell me how you knew what to say to that kid,” she urged, struggling to keep up with my strides.

“I used to spend time around those kinds of people a lot when I was a kid,” I explained, deciding to humor her. “I’ve learned how to turn their own words against them by now.”

I did not tell her that had I learned how to do so sooner, things may have turned out a lot differently.

“You must not keep doing that!” he scolded.

“Doing what?” I asked innocently.

“Getting into confrontations with… hooligans! What else?”

“I did what I had to--”

“Don’t think I wasn’t watching, Ace! I could see the entire ordeal from the window!”

“Well maybe if you’d actually done something to help instead of just watching--”

“Unlike you, Ace, I value my life and am not going to get myself killed just to feel like the hero!”

I couldn’t help but bristle at his comment, and I sprung to my feet, the wooden chair tipping backward onto the stone floor behind me with a loud clatter. “What do you mean you value your life? All you do is sit around making futile potion after potion and you still think it’ll work next time!” I clenched my fists at my sides, willing the confrontational energy in my veins to burn out before it swallowed me whole. “So maybe I need to tell off a thug every once in a while to finally feel like I’m doing something meaningful. You can keep pouring bile down my throat all you want, but I can assure you it’ll never make me happy!”

“Ace--” Bertrand, having followed me, reached out a hand as if to lay it on my shoulder, but I flinched away from the touch and he retracted the appendage as if he had been burned.

“Don’t touch me,” I muttered, directing my gaze out the window at the dark, lonely night creeping across the landscape. “Just leave me alone.”

With a sigh, Bertrand retreated from my bedside, retiring to his back potion room to conjure his demons away, and I sat back against the wall, longing for home and the warm voices of my parents.

That night, I dreamt of Knife Boy, and his words reminded me of Carita, the girl who kissed me under an oak tree when we were younger and told me I was weird for flinching.

#oh god sorry in advance if the formatting on this is ugly #look i've been sitting on this shit for AGES and i'll never be satisfied it's just a draft please be nice #feel free 2 ask me questions about this story yee haw #the heartless #2k followers special #aro #aromantic #aro writing #aro writers #long post #op

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