#but then she got sick and it went out of theaters

[dont-open-dead-inside-25]

Friend date is scheduled! the date is set! the time is picked! I’m so exciteddd

[captaincleverusernamehere]

Closing night of As You Like It was SOOOO good and I think I might get my first ever bout of post-show depression bc GOD I wanna keep doing this but it’s OVER aaaaaaaaaaa

[youremyonlyhope]

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[ichorai]

thread ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; “they’re all just copying us, you know,” he said, sounding almost bitter. 

“of course they are,” you replied, taking a drawn-out sip from your cup. “we showed them there’s no sharks in the water. obviously they’re going to jump in.”

words ; 6.6k

themes ; mild fluff/angst, action

warnings / includes ; themes of classism, violence/injury/death/drug misuse, coryo's paranoia, he isn't exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Coriolanus came late to class. He rushed in, uniform only slightly askew, and hair messier than usual. You moved your bag aside so he could take a seat beside you. With a nod, he slipped into the row and began laying out his books. 

You wondered how Tigris reacted once he got back home. Probably worried sick for her cousin and her friend. Your father, of course, was furious with you once he learned about your tryst with Coriolanus in the Capitol Zoo, but there was little he could do when he was off working in the districts. During dinner with your mother, Lucretius Flickerman, and his wife, the tributes and the games were practically all the three could talk about. Lucky was going to be the first ever host, apparently.

How fun.

To neither of your surprise, Highbottom eyed the two of you with disdain. When you had strode into the hall, he remained silent. Coriolanus’ arrival seemed to tip him right over the edge.

“Both of your little excursions were in violation of about five different academy rules,” he grumbled. “Chiefly amongst them—endangering a Capitol student. Yourselves.”

“There were peacekeepers crawling all over the place,” Coriolanus retorted. 

The dean’s nose twitched angrily. Then, he fixed you with a harsh look over his spectacles, and drawled out your name. “Since you are the academy’s brightest, and your records have been… untarnished until now, I will let you off with a warning.” There was a pause, before the dean continued. “Mr. Snow, I’m moving for the gamemakers to disqualify you as mentor, effective immediately.”

“What?” the two of you exclaimed at once.

“You said we had to get them to perform, not stay away!” Coriolanus just about spat.

“I’ll add insubordination, as well,” Highbottom replied, tone venomous.

Raising your hand and ignoring the dean’s irritated exhale, you haughtily said, “It was me who went into the tribute’s truck. Coriolanus only followed. We didn’t know that we’d end up in a zoo enclosure.”

Arachne tittered with condescending laughter. “Yeah, and then you held hands with them. Made it seem like we’re the same as those animals.”

From your other side, Sejanus was quick to defend the two of you. “Coriolanus and Y/N didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know.”

Stiffening, Coryo scowled and said, “I don’t need your help, Sejanus.”

He ignored him and continued on, “That the tributes are human beings, just like us. That’s why nobody wants to watch the games—because people know, deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn’t justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedoms, their rights!”

“Dean Highbottom,” you called, not bothering to raise your hand this time. “How is it fair that Coriolanus gets disqualified while I’m not? We did what you told us to do! We were just trying to get to know our tributes.”

“Would you like to be disqualified as well? I can surely arrange for that to happen,” he deadpanned. “But poor little Wovey would be left all on her own.”

Nausea coiled within your abdomen. You drew yourself up to your full height. “Well, that would be entirely unnecessary—” 

Before you could finish your sentence, the doors to the lecture theater swung open once more, and Dr. Volumnia Gaul crept in, footsteps completely silent. How she managed that, you weren’t at all sure.

With everyone’s eyes on her, she fixed her stare on the two of you. Her hair was wrangled back into a high up-do, tall and grey on her head. 

“Quite a show you two put on. You’re good players,” she said, voice booming throughout the theater. “The hunger games needs good players. Maybe one day you’ll be gamemakers, like me.”

The thought sent chills up your spine. Coriolanus kept his expression stoic.

“If the games continue at all,” said Highbottom.

Singular blue eye flashing, Dr. Gaul grinned in an unnerving manner. “Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Snow and L/N in that zoo? The people would never stop wanting for more.” She drew closer to the rows of seats, gloved hand trailing over a few of the desks. “I came here to ask the star mentors a question… what are the hunger games for?”

You and Coriolanus exchanged a quick glance.

“They’re to punish the districts for their uprising,” he said, as if it were obvious. “To commemorate the end of the war.”

Volumnia’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, in a similar fashion to a snake.

“And what would you say, Y/N?”

It was hard to maintain eye contact with her, especially because it felt like she could peer into your very soul and dissect you apart from inside out—but you managed. With your father being such an avid supporter of the hunger games, you wondered if your answer would be what she was looking for. “I don’t agree with the games. But I know it’s because—fear is power. Keep the districts afraid for themselves, for their children, and you’ll always have the upper hand.”

She smiled, wide and eerie. “You’re right. Fear is power. But punishment and fear can take many forms. They can come from bomb droppings, the cancelling of food shipments, stage executions. The question is, why games?”

Defensive, Sejanus spoke up, “Shouldn’t we be asking whether or not it’s right in the first place?”

“You have a problem with my games?” she asked, unimpressed.

“Some of those kids were two years old when the war ended! The oldest of them were only eight!” he exclaimed. “The Capitol is supposed to be everyone’s government now. It is supposed to protect all of us. I don’t see how making children fight each other to the death is protecting anyone.”

With a sneer, Dr. Gaul told him, “That sort of sympathy might be interfering with your mentoring assignment, Mr. Plinth.”

Finally, Highbottom said to his colleague, “Perhaps Capitol students are ill-suited to be mentoring tributes. Perhaps the games’ time has passed.”

Yes, you thought. It’s time to let it go.

To your surprise, Coriolanus abruptly stood up from his seat. “Dean Highbottom is wrong,” he asserted. “My classmates, too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something here. We should be viewing those tributes as human beings. You saw those kids at the zoo. They just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch, we should let them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal.”

“Who would watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?” Dr. Gaul asked, as if the notion of caring about district folk was ludicrous.

“Everyone,” replied Coriolanus. “Especially if they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning. People need someone to root for and someone to root against! And if we bend a few Capitol laws, we can even have them place bets.” 

You felt sick as you looked up at Coriolanus with a mildly disturbed expression. If he noticed, he didn’t give you any indication.

“I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena,” he continued. “But if you give her a chance—I would bet the Plinth prize that she could win people’s attention.”

Dr. Gaul was effectively intrigued.

“I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow,” she said. 

Clemensia, strong-headed as ever, stood up and said that she should be working with Coriolanus, as his class partner.

With an amused snicker, Volumnia bowed her head and made her way back to the door. “It’ll be an interesting test,” she ominously said before turning on her heel and exiting, her dark cloak billowing out behind her.

During lunch, you sat down across from Coriolanus in the cafeteria, noticing that he had three sandwiches stacked on his plate, along with half a dozen cookies on another. It was a rare thing, seeing him with so much food. Usually he opted for just starving himself to save some money, despite your urges to get him to eat.

“Hungry?” you asked with an arched brow, but he shook his head.

“It’s for Lucy Gray,” he replied, staring down at the food. Then, he pulled out a red handkerchief and started wrapping the food up. “I’m going back.”

With a soft sigh, you started digging into your own lunch. “Hopefully not inside this time.”

He spared you half a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Are you coming? Everyone else is. I heard Arachne tell Felix she’s going to use food to get her tribute to do tricks for her.”

With a wrinkle of your nose, you glanced over at her several tables down. “Sounds like something she’d say.” You took a bite of your food and chewed thoughtfully.

“They’re all just copying us, you know,” he said, sounding almost bitter. 

“Of course they are,” you replied, taking a drawn-out sip from your cup. “We showed them there’s no sharks in the water. Obviously they’re going to jump in.”

He tied the handkerchief together so the sandwiches and cookies would stay put. “They’re all sheep. No original thought whatsoever.”

There it was again, your wind-chime laugh. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, now empty save for a few bread crumbs. 

“It’s not that big of a deal, Coryo. Besides, I’m glad most of the class is going. The tributes must be starving in there,” you told him. “I’ll come and bring some food for Wovey.”

A voice from your right jutted into your conversation, Sejanus’ angry face coming into view as he slammed down his lunch tray in the empty spot beside you. “You guys going to fatten up your tributes so you can finally start taking bets?” he just about snarled.

“Do you think they’ll give those kids a scrap if we don’t give them a reason to do it?” Coriolanus responded defensively, leaning forward with narrowed eyes. “How do you think your tribute will have a chance if he can’t eat?”

“We can’t send them back to their homes,” you told Sejanus in a juxtaposingly calm tone. “The best we can do for them now is help them out here.”

The curly-haired man slumped forward, his shoulder stooping like an old wildflower. “He was my classmate,” he muttered. “Back in two.”

Though you gave Sejanus a sympathetic look, Coryo regarded Sejanus as if he was confused. He wondered why Sejanus even bothered to care this much when he was no longer a part of the districts.

“It’s not your fault that—” Coriolanus began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“Oh, yeah, I’m so blameless I’m choking on it!” he gritted out. Then, he let out a shaky breath, trying to steel himself. “My father bought him for me, you know. At the reaping. Just so he could show me that I could never go back to two.”

A frown marred your features. “He bribed Highbottom?”

“Something like that,” Sejanus told you, using the prongs of his fork to poke and prod at his food. “Morphling costs a pretty penny.”

Silence stretched over the three of you for a few seconds. Coriolanus looked annoyed, but Sejanus didn’t seem to notice. 

“Being in the Capitol is going to kill me,” he sighed.

This made Coryo scowl. “So do something about it.”

Sejanus’ dark eyes flitted over to the bundle of food in Coriolanus’ hands. “You’re quite the rebel.”

Coriolanus retorted, “Oh, yeah. I’m bad news.”

When he said that, he’d expected you to laugh again, but you kept quiet, staring down at your now-unappetizing lunch.

There was a considerably larger crowd around the enclosure that evening. You had a small basket clutched in one hand, consisting of juice boxes (still grape, since you now knew it was a safe option), soft bread rolls, and wrapped leftovers from your dinner with Lucky. You hoped Wovey wasn’t allergic to anything—you’d forgotten to ask in the heat of it all.

Coriolanus still only had the few sandwiches he saved from lunch, but you assured him that you were more than happy to share with Lucy Gray if need be. 

She looked much more haggard tonight, most of her makeup smeared off, her lips chapped and bleeding at the center from what you assumed was anxious biting, and her hair was more unruly. Though her eyes still held the same fire, the same passion, lighting up when she noticed the two of you approaching. She asked if the food was for them with slight surprise—you often forget that they hadn’t much to eat in the districts, anyway—and took what was offered, before handing off a good portion of it to her district partner, Jessup. The larger man declined the food at first, claiming he wasn’t hungry, but eventually caved and took the sandwiches. 

When he turned to walk off, Coriolanus asked about the nasty wound on his neck. It was just behind his ear and oozing with blood and pus. A bat bite on the train, Lucy Gray told the two of you, looking awfully guilty on behalf of her friend. 

Crooning from a little way’s away drew your attention to Arachne and her tribute. She was dangling a cold bottle of water just inches from the tribute’s reach, urging her to beg.

Lucy Gray’s brows cinched. “One thing I learned in twelve is that hunger is a weapon. Your friend over there sure knows it.”

The two of you scoffed at the same time.

“She is not my friend,” Coriolanus told her. “She is poison with perfect teeth.”

“How such a vile tongue hides behind those pearly whites, I wouldn’t ever know,” you remarked, earning you a snicker from Coriolanus. Finally, you peered around for Wovey, eager to finally get her something to eat. However, curse your damned softening heart, your eyes grew gentle upon seeing her curled up by the very same tree stump, head resting on Bobbin’s shoulder, fast asleep. 

Lucy Gray casted a glimpse over her shoulder to see what you were looking at. 

“Could you give this to her?” you asked, slotting the small basket between the enclosure’s metal bars. “When she wakes up, that is. She must be famished. Feel free to take anything in there, but just… leave some for her.”

The girl nodded, taking the basket from you and handing it over to Jessup, who cradled it as if it were more precious than gold. You watched him carefully—not because you were worried he was going to keep all the food to himself, but because you were curious as to why he hadn’t reached in to take anything for himself yet, even after several minutes passed by. 

Coriolanus leaned forward, wrapping a hand around one of the bars as he lowered his voice. “Are you going to share everything with Jessup?”

Lucy Gray’s expression faltered. “Why? You think I oughta build up my strength to strangle him in the arena? Not exactly my forte.”

“I might have a chance to help you,” he told her, watching her keenly. “To make some suggestions to the gamemakers. I might even be able to get the audience to send you gifts in the arena. Food, and water, to keep you going. You just have to try singing again.”

Firmly, Lucy Gray said, “I don’t sing when I’m told, I sing when I have something to say.”

“And you have nothing to say?” you asked her, head tilting. “The whole world is watching, Lucy Gray. Now’s your chance.”

A myriad of emotions crossed over her face. “It doesn’t matter much now, does it? I’ve seen the arena—there’s nowhere to hide. What’s the point?” Her gaze traveled from you to Coriolanus. “The guards say you get money if you get more people to watch and you say you want to help me. Which is it?”

“Both?” he offered. 

It didn’t satisfy her, but it was enough, for now. 

Then, she grabbed a sandwich from the red handkerchief and took a large bite, a muffled noise of appreciation falling from her lips. 

“Bread’s soft,” she said around a mouthful. “Softer than in twelve.”

Then, she offered a cookie to Coriolanus. He began to protest, but she insisted he take it.

“I saw you staring,” she said. “I always thought there was plenty of food in the Capitol.”

Coriolanus laughed, a coarse and unrefined sound. “One time during the war, I ate a whole jar of paste just to stop the pain in my stomach.” 

A match of pity struck within the confines of your chest, but you remained quiet. Coriolanus told you stories of his times during the war often—usually after the two of you laid together, sweaty and naked, bearing your souls to one another. Pillow talk made him quite emotional, you found.

“And how was it?” Lucy Gray queried, eyes round.

Coriolanus took a bite of the cookie, humming in though. Then, he shrugged. “Pasty,” he said.

Lucy Gray laughed. She looked back to you, appreciative. “Thank you, for the food. I’m sure the little one’s going to be happy.” Your eyes flickered back to Wovey. She stirred a bit on Bobbin’s shoulder, but remained asleep. “She’s so sweet. So young. Something about her reminds me of my cousin, Maude Ivory. I can’t stand to think of them without me like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Coriolanus whispered.

You nodded in agreement. “They’re waiting for you, I’m sure. You’ll see them again.”

Lucy Gray smiled sadly. “I won’t hold you to that.” Then, after she took another bite, she blew out a gentle sigh. “You two seem like… genuine folk. It sure would’ve been nice to meet you under different circumstances.”

Coriolanus leaned his head against the enclosure’s bars. “One of your shows, maybe.”

Somehow, her smile grew impossibly wider, but her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Yeah. Yeah, I would’ve liked that.” With a light sniffle, she asked the two of you, “You two keen on dancing?”

You thought back to all the dance lessons you were forced to take as a young child. It was never your strong suit. “Not really, no. Coriolanus is much better than I am.” 

“Not your fancy Capitol dancing,” she told you, waving a hand in the air. “Dancing like you’re free. Dancing with no rules. Just the music, to guide you.”

Both you and Coriolanus exchanged glances. “Can’t say I’ve tried,” you replied. “But it sounds fun.”

Lucy Gray nodded, showing more enthusiasm than you’d ever seen in her before. “You’d have the time of your life. If you ever visit… I’d love for you to come. Both of you—we’d have a drink. Share a dance or two. We’d have all the time in the world. People always say our music shows are the best places for romantic dates. It’d be perfect for you two.”

It was a pleasant fantasy to entertain. But that’s all it was—a fantasy. When you looked at Coriolanus, his expression was simultaneously strained and distant, as if he were far away, thinking of other things. You reached out to place your hand on his shoulder.

But before you could, screams erupted from around the enclosure, followed closely by shattering glass. You whipped your head away from Lucy Gray, seeing Arachne’s tribute jabbing the broken glass bottle straight into her jugular. Coriolanus yelled something—you weren’t entirely sure what, but he jumped up to grab Arachne, applying pressure to the wound.

It wasn’t enough. 

Blood, dark and viscous and filling the air with the smell of copper, began to pool around her neck, down her shoulders, filling the crevices of her collarbones. She was blubbering something, gargling through blood, but you couldn’t quite hear with the loud static buzzing in your ears. 

You glanced to the side, catching sight of peacekeepers lining up their guns to shoot. You rushed forward to get to Coriolanus, yanking him down just as several shots rang out. He was whimpering, telling Arachne to hold on for him, but when you frantically reached down to feel for her pale wrist’s pulse—it wasn’t there.

Arachne was dead. 

You clambered off of Coriolanus, away from the dead girl, backing away. You only barely registered Sejanus calling out your name in concern, but you didn’t pay him any mind. Instead, you turned your eyes to the tributes, all ducking and cowering behind trees and tires. To your relief, Wovey was now awake, eyes wide as she crouched behind the tree stump with Bobbin.

The relief was short-lived, however, because peacekeepers began urging everybody away from the enclosure. You reached out for Coriolanus, taking his arm. He was shaking, eyes as large as saucers and visibly distraught. 

The two of you walked to his estate in tense silence.

Once there, Grandma’am and Tigris fawned over the two of you, though in far different ways. Grandma’am dove into a lecture about rebels and how lucky the two of you were that your tributes hadn’t done the very same. Tigris wrapped a warm shawl over you and a patched blanket over her cousin, telling Grandma’am that Lucy Gray and Wovey weren’t rebels, just innocent girls. 

“Trust me, that one hasn’t been a girl in a long time,” Grandma’am bitterly retorted. “Outside this Capitol, they’re savages, however they may smile. She will use you, Coriolanus. You must use her or you’ll end up dead in the trees, like your father.”

Coriolanus stiffened. 

An hour later, he tugged you into his room and kissed you hard and desperate, as if he wanted to distract himself from his own thoughts. You were the one to pull away, even if everything inside you was screaming to stay. You almost caved, almost, when his head dipped forward in an attempt to capture your lips again, but you placed the tips of your fingers over his mouth with a soft, sympathetic smile. You hugged him tight until he stopped trembling, and reluctantly drew yourself away from him. After embracing Tigris goodnight, you walked home alone with your thoughts, wondering if the games were going to continue in lieu of the evening’s events.

There was an assembly held at the academy for Arachne’s death, followed promptly by a proper funeral. Though, it didn’t quite feel proper with all the cameras and reporters hovering around. You wondered if people were expecting to see you cry. You were incredibly shaken, sure, but were you sad?

It’d be a lie if you said yes.

They made sure to zoom in on you and Coriolanus when you kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand just before he was appointed to go on stage and sing the national anthem. Why he was the one to do so, the two of you had no idea. It’s not like Arachne was friends with him, despite what the reporters wanted to think. It was a ridiculous waste of breath, he thought, singing for a girl he barely knew.

After Coriolanus’ performance, President Ravinstill gave a rather monotonous speech about courage and bravery. How Arachne was going to be sorely missed. Right—of course she was.

And the very next day, life moved on. As if Arachne’s death had never happened.

Soon after, they had all the mentors and tributes gathered into one of the academy halls— with the tributes shackled to tables, of course. It wasn’t like there was anywhere for them to run. You’d seen all the peacekeepers lining the hallways outside.

“In spite of yesterday’s tragic events,” Highbottom said, not a shred of sincerity to be found in his tone, “our President has decided that the games must go on. Show everyone that the Capitol is unafraid of such acts of terror. To which end Dr. Gaul wishes you to preview the arena this afternoon with your tributes. Later this evening, there will be a special, televised presentation of each tribute to our audience so they could… get to know them.”

A glorified show-and-tell, you dryly thought. How wonderful.

You and Coriolanus looked at each other for a brief moment—he’d ask Lucy Gray to sing again, you were certain. Then, you turned back forward, where Wovey was fiddling with her thumbs, sniffling a few times.

“You’ll have an hour to discuss strategy,” said the dean, before whisking himself off to the shadows of the room to down another vial of morphling.

You sat down in front of your tribute, trying your best to offer her a warm smile.

“Did you like the food I brought? Was it okay?” you whispered, making sure to lower your voice.

A nod, a scuffle of feet. Her bottom lip trembled.

Gnawing on the inside of your cheek, you moved on to the pressing matter at hand. “Okay, Wovey. I need… I need to know what you’re good at. Are you a fast runner?” 

She thought for a moment, but then shook her head.

“I know you can climb?”

She let out a shaky sigh. “I used to climb in my mama’s factory all the time. Trees, too.”

“Good. That’s good,” you murmured, pulling out a notepad so you could jot some things down. “Are you good at hiding? Staying still?”

“I think so,” she said, looking awfully uncomfortable. “Will I go back home if I win?”

A sharp pang hit you square in the chest. You tore your gaze away from your notes on the paper to look at her. 

“Yes,” you hesitantly replied. “They’ll take you home.”

This seemed to satisfy her for the time being. Gave her hope that you perhaps shouldn’t have instilled.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “So—for your televised presentation. We need to win the audience over so they send in donations—I’d be able to send you things. What do you want to do?”

After quite a bit of back and forth, you managed to get Wovey to agree to talk about her family on stage. How much she missed them. It wasn’t much, but perhaps the youngest tribute sympathy card would push the odds in your favor.

Halfway through the hour, however, Coriolanus and Clemensia were called away by Highbottom—most likely to discuss the proposal Coryo had written up once you left the estate. You made a mental note to ask him how it goes once you saw him again. You felt bad, seeing Lucy Gray sitting all alone, bound hands lightly rapping against the table’s wood.

By the stroke of four in the afternoon, they gathered all the mentors and tributes in front of the arena. Coriolanus came bounding up to the group just seconds away from the gates opening, appearing breathless and mildly frazzled. 

“You okay? Where’s Clemmie?” you asked, resting a hand on his elbow, brows kinking with confusion.

“She’s… not going to make it.” He winced, appearing distinctly torn. “I’ll tell you later.”

There was a brief silence where you scrutinized him, eyes wide. Something bad happened when he was with Dr. Gaul, and you weren’t too keen on finding out.

You walked alongside Coriolanus into the arena, with your two tributes in front of you. Lucy Gray was saying something comforting to Wovey in that sweet voice of hers, and for that you were grateful. The last thing you needed was Wovey to break down in an anxious mess. 

The arena itself was spacious but incredibly rundown, crumbling under the weight of its neglected upkeep. The glass roof was stained and dusty, rusty slants creaking as they parted to filter sunlight into the dome.

“Welcome to the arena of the 10th annual hunger games,” a distorted voice echoed through the arena’s shoddy speaker system. “Tributes, mentors, you have fifteen minutes to survey the space and discuss strategy.”

With one final squeeze on Coriolanus’ shoulder, you parted ways with him, stepping beside Wovey to urge her into a lap around the arena. Staggered rows of dusty seats lined the edges high above the ground—Wovey was a good climber, wasn’t she? 

You tried your best to give her advice. “Hiding in the seats is your best option. Climbing over the rows whenever someone comes to attack you should buy you time. You’re small, too—I think you’d be able to crawl beneath the seats to get away. As for weapons… maybe grab something small from the center. A knife or a dagger. But only if you have time, and only if you know you can make it. If not, just make a break for the seats, as fast as you can. Got that, sweetheart?”

Wovey stayed silent. But she nodded. Nodded and nodded until you worried her head was going to pop right off. 

You bent down at the waist slightly so that you were eye-level with her. “I’ll be watching you the whole time. I’m there if you need m—”

Sudden explosions rang out about the arena. Plumes of dust flew everywhere, blinding you almost instantaneously. With your eyes squeezed shut, you felt the ground shake and split and rumble until another closer explosion flung you a good few feet off the ground. You landed on your side with a strangled scream, though the pain only registered a few seconds later. Cracking your aching eyes open and squinting through the haze of dust, you caught sight of shattered glass thundering around you like crystalized rain, nicking your skin with sharp pin pricks. 

Your right side buzzed with warmth. Something damp. You dazedly looked down.

Oh.

It seemed you’d landed right on a broken metal pipe, sticking right out of your abdomen. Blood was pooling down your academy uniform, soaking the fabric a far more sinister shade of red. You choked out something akin to a dry sob, before screaming out for help. You heard dozens of similar cries echo back to you.

With a grunt, you pushed yourself up, 

“CORYO?!” you screamed as loud as you could. Faintly, you could hear his strained voice echo your name back—somewhere across the arena, you’d wager. 

The pain was starting to grow worse. Searing, almost, as if you were being laid over an open fire. You staggered through the rubble, pressing a hand to your side in a terrible attempt to staunch the bleeding, careful not to jostle the pipe. It was probably the only thing keeping you from bleeding out right then and there.

As you kept moving, you caught sight of a large, gaping hole at the opposite end of the arena. There were tributes running out. Peacekeepers shooting them. The explosions had been so loud that your ears were ringing with terrible white noise—you couldn’t even hear the sound of the rifles blasting.

You glanced around wildly. 

You spotted the small little girl near the edge of the arena. Running with Dill, you realized, mind still lagging a second too late from shock. Another explosion rattled through the arena—this time, crumbling the roof away completely.

With a mangled noise, you began limping as quickly as you could.

Another call of your name, echoing and rattling about your skull, and Coriolanus materialized right beside you out of seemingly nowhere. There were two of him, you realized. He appeared fuzzy. 

You reached out for him, but he suddenly pulled you forward, yelling something. Something you couldn’t hear. A flash of rainbow by his left, and you saw Lucy Gray just barely escape being crushed by a large stone support column. 

More crumbling ceiling. Coriolanus’ hands were cold when he urgently shoved you forward. So hard that you went tumbling down, screaming with the sudden painful jolts the metal pipe sent shooting up your spine. A second later, you blearily looked around for Coriolanus—realizing that he’d pushed you into the clear when you found him pinned down under heavy foundational slants—and they’d caught on fire. 

Numb panic shot through your mind. You barely registered your own voice croaking out his name. You tried to crawl towards him, but he only seemed to get farther away. 

The last thing you saw before your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you went careening backwards was the rainbow dress, and wild, dark hair. 

The hospital bed was far from comfortable, but you’d been so tired you were knocked out for half of the day. Though, Tigris told you that you did sort of wake up at some point in the night, mumbling Coriolanus’ name with half-cracked eyes, before falling right back asleep.

He’d startled awake before you—rushing to your bed (right beside his) and taking your limp hand in his cold, clammy one. Brushed the hair away from your forehead and muttered apologies and please don’t die like they were a mantra.

When you finally stirred, you nearly burst into tears upon seeing Coriolanus.

“I thought you died,” you dry-sobbed. Your side ached considerably with the effort. “I thought I was going to die.”

He drew you into a loose hug, careful to avoid your bandaged midriff. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m here. I love you—I’m not going anywhere, okay? Lucy Gray saved you. Saved us.”

“She did?” you croaked, voice soft. Yes, you sort of remembered. It was all a blur.

“She caught you before you could crack your head open on the ground,” said another voice. You turned your stiff neck to see Sejanus at the foot of the other side of your bed, next to Tigris, who was running her hand up and down your arm in a comforting manner.

You blew out a shaky sigh. Your head pulsed, and you suddenly felt nauseous. “What… what happened?”

They took turns explaining. Rebel bombing. The dead tributes. The president’s son, Felix, in critical condition. Sejanus’ tribute missing. How the games were still commencing regardless. The pipe that had been lodged in your abdomen missing any vital organs. How you were lucky to be alive.

“Wovey?” you whispered. “Is she okay?”

Coriolanus smoothed a hand over your head. “She’s okay. Not one of the ones that died.”

“Lucy Gray?” you whispered. 

“Alive. She could have run. She stayed back to help you and me,” he said as his hand traveled down to gently cup your face. There were dark circles under his eyes. “I owe her now. She saved the love of my life.”

“Oh, Coryo—are you okay? Are you hurt?” Your gaze roamed all over his form, clad in an identical hospital gown. 

“A few burns and bruises. Nothing compared to you.” 

You drew in a staggered breath. Every muscle and tendon in your body screamed with even the slightest movements. 

Tigris squeezed your hand. “We were so worried for you. Coriolanus couldn’t sleep all night. Your mother came by earlier but she had to leave—a spill in the lab, or something. And your father sends his love from district two. Your mother said he was furious. Military is doubling down.”

“Typical,” you whispered, supplying the three with half a weary smile, glad that they were there for you. “I can’t believe they’re going on with the games tomorrow. This is absurd.”

“They don’t want to seem weak,” Sejanus bitterly replied. “But you woke up just in time. The televised presentations are starting soon.”

Nearly an hour later, Sejanus switched on the television set hanging in front of the beds. Tribute after tribute went by, most of them appearing gaunt and exhausted. True to what the two of you had discussed, Wovey got on stage and talked about her family back in district eight, despite looking rather shaken. The audience crooned and sighed with pity. Donations were sparse, but still more than you had expected, to your bittersweet relief. You watched from the hospital bed, curled up with Tigris at the head of it, your head on her shoulder, whilst Sejanus and Coriolanus were standing far closer to the curved screen. 

Lucy Gray was the last to go on. She had a guitar with her. And she sang a beautiful song—one about a boy back from home, she said. The audience cheered and sniffled. Even the nurses stopped their bustling to watch, some of them discreetly wiping away tears.

Once visiting hours were over and Tigris and Sejanus were shooed out of the hospital, Coriolanus sat beside you and slung an arm over your shoulder. He slotted his fingers beneath your chin and kissed you deeply. It was a slow embrace, with not a hint of sexual intentions—he just wanted to hold you. Remind himself that you were still alive, still here, still his.

Your nose nudged his when he laid his forehead over yours. The two of you breathed in each other’s comforting presence. Just the two of you. It reminded you of when times were so… uncomplicated. Before all the mentoring came along, the only things you had to worry about were grades and Coriolanus’ refusals to eat properly.

Then, he told you about Clemensia. How she was probably somewhere in this very building. How she screamed when she was bitten by the snake muttation. Your mind raced with questions, but you yawned instead and leaned against his chest. 

“I love you, too, Coryo,” you whispered into his hospital gown, realizing you hadn’t said it back earlier. 

A few minutes later, you were back asleep. Coriolanus was careful not to wake you when he laid you back down. Tucked the blanket up to your chin. He kissed your hairline once more, regarding you with a fond expression, before straightening, trying his best to ignore the aches blossoming over his back and legs.

And then he left the ward, assuring the doctors that he was fine and he could be discharged. They reluctantly agreed after a brief check-up, and had him sign off for himself. Once he was out, he immediately set off for the arena, trying to search for something, anything to keep his tribute alive.

Tunnels. The ground had collapsed into them, giving Lucy Gray a perfect place to run and hide. He went back home, making sure Grandma’am and Tigris were asleep—before pouring a copious amount of powdered rat poison into his late mother’s compact. 

It was cheating. But you and Sejanus had both said it before—he was a rebel by nature. Bad news.

He visited the zoo enclosure and gave it to her then, informing her of the tunnels. Wiped her tears with a handkerchief, then told her he owed her his life and more. That you were okay, and it was all thanks to her. Lucy Gray looked overwhelmed for a moment. She did what any decent person would, she thought. He promised her that she’d get out. Return home to the Covey. False hope whispered unrealistic dreams into her ears and she let herself listen. 

“We all do things we’re not proud of to survive,” he whispered when Lucy Gray attempted to protest, not wanting to poison anyone. He pushed the compact firmly into her hands. “Do it for your family.”

Conflict warred across her features. She nodded once, then twice. 

Coriolanus' expression set with determination. “We are going to win this, Lucy Gray. We’re going to win this together. I’m going to get you home.”

[kookies2000]

TADC Actor AU

An AU where the characters are actors, Roger Rabbit style. We had fun in the Bunny Doll Burrow.

Characters list

Pomni 📖

A quiet girl who writes books in her free time. She started her career on TV in Japan, where she was born. She was under contract to do commercials and modeling until she moved to the USA to study accounting. She meets Caine when he opens an account with her. Thanks to him, she gets into show business again in a much healthier manner. Helping in commercials again and smaller roles in films. After she and Caine get married, he helps her get her first major role as the Jester in The Amazing Digital Circus series.

Caine ⭐️

Was born into show business. Literally, his mom went into labor in the middle of a circus act, and she had to birth him inside the pool behind the circus tent. His family owns a circus in Vegas and is known as the most glamorous family in Nevada. Because of this, he started as a child star and learned how to maintain a healthy work environment for performers thanks to his family. His family hired Bubble to be his agent when Caine turned 18. Because of his impressive record in show business, bright and happy personality, he is a well-known A tier actor. He agreed to play the ringmaster in TADC as long as his wife, Pomni, can have an audition.

Ragatha 🎀

Super kind and sweet. Started show business in college with her best friend Kaufmo. The two were close and did auditions together. She is mostly known for smaller films that are very artsy. Those 3 hour long films that have a hidden meaning? Yeah, she likes doing those kinds of films. Art runs in her vains, and she doesn't care much about how much money she gains. As long as she has enough to get by in life and does what she enjoys, she is happy. She does modeling thanks to Kaufmo, acting like a part-time agent for her. One day, Kaufmo calls her up about a role he's auditioning for in TADC and convinces her to audition. At the auditions, she meets a bunny who is also auditioning for the role Kaufmo is auditioning for. She gets the role, and so does Kaufmo. Until one rainy day, they get into a car crash, causing Kaufmos death.

Jax 🐰

A ball of fluff with an ego. He is well loved by many actors and others in the show business. He helps out mostly backstage as an understudy on Broadway, stunt double, and a vocal and actor coach. He helped and taught famous actors like Angel Dust from Hazbin Hotel, Rocky from Lackadaisy, and N from Murder Drones. His students describe him as a fun, whacky, and kind guy. He does impressions, too. He substituted for Angel Dust's voice in the song Addiction when he was sick. And he substituted other lines for other stars when they couldn't. Like when Rocky was recovering from vocal surgery, Jax took over and did the monologue Rocky does while he throws dynamite. Jax auditioned to be the bully in TADC and met a kind doll. But he didn't get the part that day. Until a month later, he gets a call that they are recasting, and he got the part. Tadc will be his first major role in his career, and he's beyond excited to be a part of it.

Gangel 🎭

A steamer and a theater kid since middle school. She streams video games, reactions, and acting/singing tips. Her goal is to get to 1 million followers on her platforms and have fun. She was bullied as a kid and just wants to make others happy. She gets help from her fiancé Zooble in her streams. She loves posting everything she does and gets over excited by everything. Her favorite things to react to are anime shows, and she loves video games. One day, she hears about the auditions for TADC and rushes Zooble to audition with her. Zoobel refuses to audition and just takes Gangel. Gangel gets a part, and she streams it right away. She has trouble keeping secrets, by the way. She'll most likely post about anything by accident.

Zooble 🔺️

Tattoo artist and owns her own shop. She was never interested in acting or singing. They were always bullied for looking different than most toons. Very quiet, camera shy, and keeps to themselves. Until someone makes fun of Gangel. They are super supportive of their fiancé and help Gangel whenever they can. They aren't afraid to go internet warrior mode if they see someone picking on Gangel. One day, Gangel begs them to take her to the auditions for TADC. At the studio, the ones in charge automatically take a liking to Zoobles unique look. Mentioning how it matches the circus theme. They wanted to create a role just for them, but Zooble tried to reject the offer. Until Gangel convinces them.

Kinger ♟️

Both a director and actor with his wife Queenie. He is a family man and makes some of the best movies. He loves musicals and helps with soundtracks. He started doing show business in his mid twenties when he found a talent in storytelling and started making scripts. Step by step, he became a director and actor. He didn't really audition for TADC. They called him up if he could help write the show, and he just somehow ended up in the show when they couldn't find a good fit for the role of Loony Man.

Bubbel 🫧

Part time agent, part time fashion designer and full time drag queen. Enough said.

[stomach-bugg09]

hello! I love your writing and i have an request, a quiet, kind, caring, loving, sully girl who would do anything to protect her family, takes the bullet instead of neteyam? (1 year younger then lo'ak) <33

a/n: omg hey !! can you guys believe that i wrote another one ?? although this isn't fali and [y/n], but that's alright. i think my plan for all of this is just to write when i wanna write -- no stress, just a fun hobby. requests are technically closed, but i wrote this one because i'm a kind soul. basically, if you send in a request and i like it, i might write it if i feel like it. ALSO i know this isn't accurate to how the scene went, but i haven't watched this movie since i saw it in theaters in december so... if any of you guys know how to watch it for free, let a girl know. anyway, feedback, reblogs, yada yada are all appreciated !!

tags: @rafeslovergirl @wxnderingthoughts @liyahsocorro @bonnibuckets @hjkshshjkhklhkl @itssiaaax @grierpilots @23victoria @nyotamalfoy @gcldtom @calypixi @eywas-heir @historygeekqueen @missroro @sweetheart-bo

tw: death, angst, blood, major injury, sad :(

insurmountable love

[y/n] had always known about her importance to the sully family. she knew it when she was young, when she was just a toddler that managed to lift spirits when she waddled into the room. she knew it when each of her siblings fought for her attention with different games. she knew it when neteyam always seemed to come searching for her when he got sick of their father. she knew it when kiri shared her secrets with her. she knew it when lo’ak always invited her to join her in his rebellious shenanigans. she knew it when she held her baby sister for the first time.

she’d always known.

[y/n] felt her love for her family more than she’d felt anything in her life. no amount of anger, sadness, disappointment… none of it could top the amount of adoration she held for her mother, for her father, for her sisters and brothers.

but, [y/n] was starting to think, as she lay bleeding out on top of a rock in the middle of the ocean — in the middle of a home that wasn’t her’s — that maybe there was a reason she felt for much love.

“[y/n],” her brother’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. she stared into his eyes, although she kept fighting to urge to doze off. she was so tired. “[y/n], stay with me. okay, sis?” neteyam swallowed, fighting his tears. “lo’ak flagged mom and dad down. they are almost here, baby sis. they are almost here.”

“neteyam,” the younger sully whimpered. “neteyam, it hurts.”

“i know.” a glossy layer of liquid pooled in his eyes. “i know, but you are strong. you are strong, so just keep your eyes right on me."

his hand was warm against [y/n]’s cheek. her cupped her face softly, as if any rough movement might disintegrate her. but, he also couldn’t afford to let her go, for as soon as he let go… he feared she would be gone.

lo’ak watched beside them, hands pressing against [y/n]’s wound. tears flowed down his cheeks freely. it was his fault, it was his fault, it was all his fault. he couldn’t get it out of his head. if she dies, then he killed his baby sister.

lo’ak wanted so badly to talk to her, to offer support, to be the same brother that neteyam was, but lo’ak could never do that. he was scared, and he was a fraud. he acted high and mighty, he acted brave… and if he truly thought back to the history of his life, he only truly started pretending to be so courageous so that [y/n] would be impressed with him. so that his big sister would look up to him.

how ironic was it that, the moment she needed his strength, he couldn’t pretend anymore. he was a coward.

so, instead, lo’ak pushed against the bullet hole, blood staining his hands. the muffled sobs of tsireya were nearly drowned out by the chaotic scene around them, but lo’ak didn’t think he could ignore her cries in the same way that his heart panged at every pained noise that left [y/n].

it was only the sound of his parents’ arrival that either brother even dared to look up, but once they recognized their mother and father, eyes were set back on their baby sister.

tears fell from [y/n] eyes as she caught sight of jake. “dad,” she cried, nearly choking on her words. “dad, please.” she was begging, but she wasn’t sure what she was asking for. what could he do?

“hey, baby,” he whispered, kneeling next to her. “it’s okay. it’s okay, i’m here.” as jake attempted words of comfort, he picked up her feeble frame to check the exit wound, and his heart instantly dropped. his baby girl.

“dad, i’m scared,” she confessed. “i—i saw them. they were aiming at ‘teyam.” her words were growing thicker, voice stuck in her throat. lo’ak noticed [y/n] pulled her knees up at times, the pain causing her lower half to writhe.

“it’s okay, baby girl,” jake hushed. “it’s okay, you did everything right.”

“i didn’t want him hurt. i didn’t want him hurt, dad!” her pained sobs wavered. for some reason, she couldn’t be convinced — not in her delirious state — that she hadn’t made a terrible decision. she didn’t want to die with her father’s disappointment. disappointment that she put herself in danger. but she did it for her big brother.

in the chaos, none of them — tsireya and spider included, who also attempted to be helpful even though there wasn’t much that they could do — noticed the arrival of neytiri. not until her hushed voice of shock began mumbling, “no, oh no. not my sweet daughter.”

the na’vi mother rushed over, taking a spot between her two sons as she gauged the scene. her second youngest, hurt by the sky-people. her beautiful daughter, fighting death because of them.

[y/n] had faded to a silence at that point, the only noise being her whimpers of pain as she writhed. tears paved their way across the surface of her blue skin, and neytiri’s heart shattered.

but, despite all of it, despite the pain, the shock, the terrifying inevitability ( although they all denied it ) of her death… the worst part was when she opened her eyes wide and said, “i’m so scared.”

a beat of stunned, painful silence.

“i’m so scared. i don’t wanna die!” she whispered, looking into her father’s eyes. “please.”

and through his tears, jake gripped the hand of his second youngest and told her a kind lie. “i’m right here with you. you will be okay, baby girl. just hold on to us, okay?”

and to her credit, she did. through the pain, one hand held jake’s and the other held neytiri’s. the two brothers couldn’t do anything but watch helplessly, hands resting on her upper arms in an attempt to give her some form of strength.

and they stayed that way until the light left her eyes. the same light she’d carried since she was born, gone just like that.

maybe there was a reason she was full of so much love for her family. her theory… she was only destined to live so long, so eywa blessed her with an exuberant amount to enjoy for the thirteen years she was gifted.

[bloatedandalone04]

Bets & Bargains - Part 7

Series Masterlist

➪in which bradley finally makes things official between you and him, and the guys finally catch onto what’s been keeping their frat mate so busy lately.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Bradley failed to notice that you had accidentally left your hoodie on his passenger seat when he dropped you off last night. He was going to bring it to you since you didn’t live far away, but he decided to just keep it there until he saw you again. 

Then he got himself ready for bed and saw the mess he made for you in his boxers, and he went right back out to his Jeep and grabbed your hoodie, then spent the next ten minutes holding it up to his nose as he jerked himself off in his bedroom. 

He couldn’t help it. It smelled like movie theater popcorn and you, a combination he didn’t think he would like so much. 

He was happy it was the weekend and he didn’t have class to go to today, because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to focus on a single thing other than you. 

Why you were such a distraction, he didn’t know, but he honestly didn’t care. Last night was amazing, and he was cursing himself for it ending so soon. You and he talked for a long time after you got each other off in the driver’s seat of his Jeep, and it was only around ten when he drove you back to campus. He should’ve taken you to get milkshakes or something, since you both were quite a big fan of them, instead of reminding himself that he wanted to take things slow with you. 

Bradley hadn’t even told you about Bri yet, like you told him about Luke, but he was sure that you would automatically think that you were a rebound since he and Bri broke up literally only a week ago tomorrow. That wasn’t the case, though. Sure, his initial, drunken thought was to find someone to make Bri jealous with, but that wasn’t what he was doing with you. He liked you, and if she was jealous because of that, then it was just a bonus. 

He knew he liked you a bit too much too soon, so he restricted himself to only texting you all throughout Saturday while he tried to catch up on the assignments he’d been given during the first week back at school. As he read through them, he realized that he had missed the explanation of them as well since he was too preoccupied with thoughts of you, and then he told himself to get a grip. 

He had never been like this before, not with anyone, but he wasn’t mad that you were the first person to get him all flustered and unfocused like he currently is now. 

On Sunday, he caved. 

I miss you, babes. Can I see you today?

He was scribbling out a spelling error, not caring enough about neatness to actually erase the mistake, when you got back to him. 

Y/n: I miss you, flyboy. What did you have in mind?

Bradley laughed at the name, pushing aside his school work in order to give you his full attention. It was nearing four in the afternoon and he hadn’t eaten much today other than half a box of stale crackers, and he has a few things in the fridge and cupboard he needs to get rid of soon, so he decided to invite you over for dinner. 

You hungry? I’m sick of fast food places, let me make you something real and half decent. 

Y/n: I’m always hungry, and beyond curious to find out about your culinary skills. 

I’m very skilled in the kitchen I barely use, believe me. Come over at 5?

Y/n: I believe you. See you soon, flyboy.

Bradley was left smiling stupidly at his phone, then he quickly changed your contact name before trying to get as much studying time in as possible before you got here. 

-

You’d spent most of the weekend in your room, wanting to avoid Sam as much as you could. You were still annoyed with her, and pissed off that she thinks you were looking for a rebound in Bradley. Even though you weren’t, she was the one who told you to go get a rebound anyway. 

Things had been over between you and Luke for months, and you were more than ready to move on. And Bradley seemed like a great person to move on with, if he felt the same way about you. Though, you had a feeling he did since he pretty much told you in his Jeep on Friday night. 

Fuck, you’ve replayed that night over and over in your head too many times to count. It was almost too perfect. Not only did he make you feel unbelievably good, the long talk you had after was something you didn’t know you needed so badly. 

Talking with Bradley was one of the easiest things you had ever done, and listening to him talk about his life and past and possible future was like a breath of fresh air. 

It was almost five when you finally left the confines of your room, and of course Sam was right there. Really, you should’ve expected it since her room is across the hall from yours, and the hall is extremely small, so you were bound to bump into her eventually. “Oh,” she blandly said, a bottle of Pepsi in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. “You’re alive. She’s alive, everyone.”

You watch with narrowed eyes as she turns and gestures to you as if it wasn’t just you and her in the cramped hall. “Really?” You ask in a bored tone, crossing your arms. 

“Really,” she hummed, raising her brows quickly before turning towards her bedroom door. “Have fun with the frat boy.”

You glared at her then at her door when she slammed it in your face. How did she know you were going to see Bradley? Sure, you’ve seen him a lot since that party, maybe a bit too much, but still. That was a lucky guess. 

Not wanting to be in a bad mood when you get to his place, you take a deep breath and raise both your middle fingers at her door, then head towards the front one. You would deal with her later, and preferably clear the air, because she was acting like a child and you were getting fed up with it. 

It was kind of cold out for a summer night, and you failed to check the weather before leaving, so you ended up walking across campus in just a grey tank top and black jeans. You walk up the steps and knock on the door, rubbing your hands over your arms afterwards as you wait. 

You didn’t have to wait for too long as less than ten seconds later the door opened and revealed the guy you were annoyingly into. “Hey,” Bradley greeted with a boyish smile that had you fighting off one of your own. “You don’t have to knock, you know. We rarely ever lock the door.”

“Oh,” you laugh and step inside the house when he moves to the side. “That’s really good to know in case I ever stay the night again.”

Bradley, who looked too good to be true in his blue flannel and dark jeans, rolled his eyes as he pushed the door closed. “You didn’t let me finish. We rarely ever lock it when we’re home,” he added with a laugh, draping his arm over your shoulder as he guided you into the kitchen.

You hum and lean into his side, wrapping your arm around his middle. “That makes it sound a lot better,” you smile up at him. “Thanks for clarifying.”

Bradley shook his head, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips as if it came naturally to him. Was this a normal thing now? God, you hoped so. “Come on,” he said against your lips. “It’s almost ready.”

You let him lead you into the kitchen, your body stuck to his. It seemed like neither one of you wanted to let the other one go at the moment, and you didn’t mind it one bit. “What’s almost ready?” 

“The decent food I promised you,” he answered, pulling you with him to the stove. You barely got a second to look at the pan that was on the burner before Bradley picked you up effortlessly and set you down on the counter next to the oven. 

You got a hint of his strength on Friday night when he threw you over his shoulder and carried you across the parking garage, and both times left you a bit breathless. 

Bradley moved his body so his waist was in between your thighs, and his hands were placed on the counter next to your hips. He was still taller than you, even like this, so he had to lean down to ghost his lips over yours. “Do you wanna taste it?” He asked, his words muffled against your mouth. 

Not being able to form proper words, you nod and harshly swallow at the smirk that formed on his lips. He turned away from you and grabbed a fork, piling a bit of the ground beef onto it before bringing it up to your mouth. You hold eye contact as you take the fork between your teeth, a sharp intake following shortly after. “Wow,”

“Good? Bad?” Bradley laughed, setting the fork down and placing his hands on either side of your hips again. “Which one is it?”

“Good, it’s good,” you reply, still chewing as you reach up to wipe at your mouth. “Spicy.”

He hummed, lifting his hand and running his thumb along your bottom lip, collecting what you failed to wipe away. “Is that bad? Do you not like spicy things?”

You shake your head, a laugh escaping afterwards. “I do, I just can’t handle a lot of spice. My taste buds will fall off,”

“Oh, we can’t have that,” Bradley laughed, too, sliding his hand up so it’s caressing the side of your face. You were still smiling when his gaze became a little more intimate, and you thought he was going to kiss you again when he instead surprised you. “Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

Your eyes widen a bit and you laugh again, a sound of disbelief as your eyes flickered all over his face. “What?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” He repeated slower this time, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he looked down at your lips. 

The shock from the sudden question eventually wears off and you place your hands on his shoulders. “Um,” you trail off as you sit up straighter, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. “Yeah, I do.” 

Bradley grinned at you, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you confirm, unable to stop the smile that matched his before he leaned in and pressed a firm kiss to your mouth. 

You gently pull at his hair as he grabs your hips in both hands, deepening the kiss as he tugs you towards the edge of the counter. “You left your hoodie in the Jeep,” he told you, barely pulling away from your lips as he spoke. 

“Oh,” you murmur. “Is it still in there?”

He shook his head, kissing you again after. “It’s in my room,” he mumbled. “I’m keeping it.”

You laugh against his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before pulling away. “It’s my favorite one,” you pouted and he reached up to tug at your bottom lip.

“You can steal one of mine,” he suggested and the offer sounded too tempting to decline, so you just smiled at him and nodded. 

“Okay,” you agreed, kissing him one last time before pushing him away from you. “Check the food, flyboy. Make sure it’s not burning.”

Bradley shook his head with a laugh, stepping away from you and checking on the pan. “It’s not,” he observed, glancing over at you with teasing eyes. “But if it was, it’d be your fault for distracting me.” 

You shrug, gripping the edge of the granite as you lean over. “You gotta learn how to focus on the important tasks if you want to be in the Navy,”

He copied your shrug and looked over at you as he turned the stove off and set the pan onto a different burner. “I don’t know, kissing you seemed very important,” 

You roll your eyes and look around the simple kitchen. “Where are your frat buddies?”

“I don’t know,” Bradley answered with a quiet laugh, transferring the beef into a bowl. “They’re hardly ever here. That’s why it’s so quiet. I don’t know what they do all day long.”

You nod even though he was too focused on the food to see it. “I like it when it’s quiet,” you say, watching as he grabs two plates from the top shelf of a cupboard, the stretch making his flannel lift and expose a bit of his toned waist. “Means I get you all to myself.”

“What, having me all to yourself every day last week wasn’t enough?” He teased, setting the plates down before holding his hand out to you. 

You grab it and hop down, throwing your arms around his shoulders and pressing your nose to his. “Nope,” you mumble. “Friday was too good of a date, it just made me want you more.”

Bradley wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to his chest. “Good, ‘cause that was kinda the plan,” 

“Oh,” you drag the word out as he pulls you with him to the small table by the sliding door. “You’ve got it all figured out, huh?”

Bradley shrugs, sitting down on a chair and pulling you onto his lap. “I might’ve thought about it once or twice,” he replied and you shake your head, watching as he reached around you and began piling various ingredients onto a tortilla wrap. 

Why did it feel so easy with him? And how was he able to make your whole body blush with a simple sentence like that? 

You drape your arm over his shoulders as you get yourself settled on his lap, and when you turned your head to look at him, you were able to see his multiple scars up close. “Can I ask you something?” You sounded a bit hesitant, and Bradley quickly looked up at you. 

“Yeah, of course,” he answered, wrapping one arm around your middle. “Did I already mess this up?”

“No,” you laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth to further prove your words. “I just…how did you get these scars?” You quietly asked, tracing your fingers along the raised skin on his face and neck. 

Bradley’s shoulders dropped in what you think is relief before he leaned back against the chair. “You finally noticed them, huh?”

Shaking your head, you shift on his lap so you could make your own wrap, then you lean against him again. “I noticed them the first night I met you, I just didn’t want to ask you something that might make you uncomfortable,” 

“No, it’s fine,” he gave you a toothless smile, running his fingers along the waistline of your jeans. “It’s stupid, really. I got really drunk at a party last year and I started talking out of my ass to Eli and Wes, the guys I live with. It got heated and I don’t even remember why or what I said, but it was apparently something pretty bad since Eli ended up shoving me into a cabinet and I went right through the glass door of it.”

Your eyes widen and you put your wrap down after only taking one bite. “Oh, my God,” you gasped, sliding your hand up and gently massaging the back of his neck. “Jesus, Bradley. And you’re still friends with them? You still live with them?”

“Still got the cabinet, too,” he nodded across the kitchen and towards the fridge. A tall, wooden cabinet was right next to it, and you questioned how you failed to notice it there until he pointed it out. The door was missing the glass, and the wood around it was chipped, indicating that it was broken pretty forcefully. “We use it as a place to put the recycle bin now.”

You turn back to him with a frown. “Bradley..”

His smile faded, though you knew it was a forced one anyway. “I know. They thought it was funny at the time, and I woke up the next morning with glass still in my face and shoulder. I looked pretty fucking scary walking across the street to the hospital with blood all over me,” 

You shake your head and bury your face against the side of his neck. “Fuck,”

Bradley huffed out a laugh, running his hand up and down your back. “I know,” he trailed off. “I had to lie to the doctor and say that I fell into it instead of telling him that my friend pushed me then left me on my bed afterwards.”

Groaning you press a chaste kiss to the healed scar on his throat before lifting your head. “Bradley. I hate your frat buddies,”  

He hummed in agreement, kissing your temple and keeping his lips there after. “I’m not very fond of them lately, either,” 

After you begged him to let you clean up since he cooked, Bradley guided you towards the living room. Flashbacks of your third date, if he counted it as a date like you do, passed through your head, and when you looked over at the far end of the couch, you could see the blanket you and he shared when you fell asleep. 

A smile takes over your lips as you fall onto the same spot you were in the last time you were here, and Bradley sits next to you. “Did you like it? Did my culinary skills impress you?”

“You know what, they did,” you answered with a laugh, leaning into his side when he lifted his arm. “You’re right, real food tastes so much better.”

Bradley laughed and then your phone went off. You pulled it from your pocket, leaning your head on his chest as you read the new text you had gotten. 

Luke: Are you seriously done with us?? With me? Come on, brat, we’re good together. 

Your brows furrowed and you let out a quiet huff. Bradley shifted and you knew he read it, too, when he asked, “Is that your ex?” in a deep grunt, unknowingly making you smile at the protectiveness in his voice. 

“Yep,” you sigh, not knowing what to say that would get Luke to back off. 

“Block him,” Bradley suggested and your eyes widened a bit. 

“What? You think I should block him?” You question, cuddling closer to his side as he nodded. 

“I don’t like the way he calls you brat, it’s condescending,” 

“Condescending?” You repeat with a laugh before scrolling through your long thread with your ex. “You really think I should block him? You think he’ll get the hint that way?”

Bradley hummed, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “Block him, baby,” 

You bite back a moan and click on the red button without thinking twice. “There,” you whisper, nudging his chin with the top of your head. “He’s blocked.”

You swipe out of the thread and were about to turn your phone off when Bradley stopped you. “Can I see it for a second?” 

“My phone? Why? You think I have more secret exes I should block?” You tease and hand him your phone, watching as he laughed and shook his head. 

“No, I just wanted to change something,” he mumbled, clicking on his own contact. “Fratley, huh?”

You laugh and nod. “It’s fitting,” 

“I like it,” he rasped, editing the contact name before handing your phone back to you. “There.”

You look at the two new hearts he added beside his name and smile, clicking on the picture icon before crawling onto his lap. “Okay, picture time,” you state, goosebumps forming on your skin as he runs his hands up and down your thighs. 

With your phone in one hand, you use your other to purse his lips together, his cheeks scrunching up cutely as you did so. You quickly take the photo and stare at it for a few seconds, a humorous smile painted on your lips. “Good?” He questioned with a laugh and you nod, turning your phone and showing him the picture. “Jesus.”

You laugh loudly, dropping your phone onto the cushion next to you. “You’re so cute,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss along the side of his face. “My turn.”

You hold your hand out to him and he laughs, unlocking his phone and placing it on your palm. “Have at it,” he said and leaned back on the couch as you opened his contacts. 

“Oh, look at that,” you trail off. “You already changed my name.” 

Bradley nodded smugly, taking his phone from you again and pulling you down against his chest. You laughed and braced your hands on his shoulders and smiled when he lifted his hand and took a picture of the two of you, his lips pressed to your cheek. You watched as he set it as your contact picture, cropping most of himself out and only leaving half his face in it. 

“Now that that’s settled,” he whispered, kissing you before you could get another word out and wrapping his arms around you. 

-

After kissing for what felt like hours, you had to go back to your place since you had a test you needed to study for that was for your morning class tomorrow. 

Bradley was reluctant to let go of you once you moved off the couch and pulled him into a hug by the front door. He pressed too many kisses to count all over your face before letting you leave with a pretty smile on your lips.

Then he was alone and already thinking about you. 

He turned around and headed up to his room, shrugging off his flannel that smelled like your perfume and tossing it onto his desk chair next to your hoodie. He kicked the door closed and fell onto his bed, his notebook opened to a random page as he read over his terrible handwriting. 

Not even five minutes passed before his bedroom door swung open and Bradley turned just as Eli and Wes stumbled their way into his room with beer bottles in their hands. “Hey, Bradshaw!” Wes greeted in a slurred voice, his arm draped around Eli’s shoulder as they fell onto the end of his bed. “Shit, this is more comfortable than mine. Can we switch beds?”

Bradley raised a brow and sat up against the headboard. “No,” he answered, knowing Westley was being serious with that question. “Do you guys need something?”

Eli lifted his head and narrowed his eyes, “What? We have to need something to be able to hang out with you? That’s low, bro,”

Bradley shook his head and looked back down at his notebook just as his phone went off from its place next to him. He put the book down and reached for the phone, but Eli was quicker and apparently wanted to be a pain in the ass as he grabbed it before Bradley could. 

“Ooh, Y/n, huh?” He laughed as he held Bradley’s phone about three inches away from his face. “Is this what’s been keeping you so preoccupied nowadays, Bradshaw?” 

“Give me my phone,” Bradley grunted, reaching for it. 

Eli held it away from him with a smirk. “Aww, is she your girlfriend now? You’re over Bri?”

“That was quick,” Wes chimed in, lifting his body up so he could look at Bradley’s phone as well. 

“Guys, I’m serious,” Bradley muttered, grabbing the device before Eli could lock him out of it with all the failed password attempts. There was no way he was telling these two fucking idiots that he had made it official with you. They were drunk off their asses and already didn’t take anything he did seriously. There was no way he’d be able to convince them that he’s being genuine with you. 

“Does she know she’s just a bet yet?” Eli asked as he took a swig from the bottle. 

Bradley was just about to read your text, but Eli’s question had his face heating up and his expression dropping. “No,” he answered instantly. “And she’s not going to know, because she’s not a bet.”

Eli rolls his eyes and swirls the beer around in the bottle. “Yeah, yeah, you said that last time, but look at it from our perspective, dude,” he started, leaning towards Bradley, the strong booze radiating off him. “Bri breaks up with you, you throw a party and come up with this sick, cruel idea to help get her back, decide to use Y/n for that idea, and then you spend all of last week with her. And now she’s your girlfriend? Come on, Bradshaw, you haven’t even tried to hide your true intentions.”

Bradley narrowed his eyes and set his phone aside. “What are my true intentions?”

“You’re hoping to make Bri jealous so she’ll come back to you,” Eli answered, shrugging afterwards as he finished off his beer. “Then you’ll dump Y/n, and we’ll pay you a thousand each.”

“I’m not going to dump Y/n-”

“So if Bri were to come up to you sometime within the next few weeks and beg you to take her back, you wouldn’t?” Wes asked, sipping the last of his own beer. 

Bradley wanted nothing more than to kick these two drunk guys out of his room. He had nothing to say or prove to them, and he wished they would just drop it. “No, I wouldn’t take her back,” he muttered, bringing his knees to his chest as he rubbed at his eyes. “I like Y/n.”

“More than Bri?” Wes asked and Bradley glared at him, making the blond raise his hands in defense. “Hey, you’re the one who made a bet to win her back.”

“Y/n’s not a bet-”

“Think of it as a bargain, then,” Eli cut him off, suddenly sounding more sober than how he sounded when he first came in. “Come on, Brad, you’ve come this far. See how it plays out. You keep doing whatever it is you’re doing with Y/n, and if she ends up falling for you, then you get two grand.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Bradley had no idea why he was still even entertaining them at this point.

“Then we’ll know that you really do suck at dating,” Eli laughed. “Just go with it, bro. It could be fun for all of us. And she’ll never know.”

Bradley didn’t say anything else, waiting until Eli and Wes got bored of the silence and left. When they were gone, he finally allowed himself to read the text you sent almost twenty minutes ago. 

Babes🩷: I forgot to steal one of your hoodies. Can you bring me that flannel you were wearing tomorrow? For no particular reason at all.

[not-neverland06]

Million Dollar Man

Previous part / Next part

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The Ghoul x fem!reader Summary: Shot, choked out, nearly gotten your throat ripped out by a feral ghoul. It’s barely even been forty eight hours on the surface.

Red carpets are overwhelming. You don’t have to walk them, thankfully, but you do have to accompany Cooper. It’s not explicitly required of you as his assistant, and honestly you think Barb would prefer if you didn’t. But he’d started taking you along after you’d admitted to wanting to go to one of his premieres. After that it became a sort of habit. 

Normally, you don’t have to participate. You linger behind interviewers or photographers and wait for him to enter into the theater with you. Tonight, however, Barb was sick. Nothing too horrific, a simple stomach bug that kept her at home. That’s what Cooper thought, at least. You know that she actually has to have an emergency meeting with one of Vault-Tec’s higher ups. There’s been some concerns raised about some of the experiments that she has to do damage control on. 

You’re almost nauseous at the thought that while you’re about to walk the carpet she’s arguing about whether or not children should be executed or experimented on in Vault 130. 

You’d spent most of your paycheck on this ridiculous red dress because Cooper insisted you join him tonight. He didn’t want to be dateless, joking that someone like him should always have a pretty lady on his arm.

You know he was just screwing with you, needling you to get you to agree to come. But you’d seen how much he really wanted you with him and how much Barb didn’t. Her right eye had twitched near imperceptibly at the suggestion and her smile had turned thin and strained. And that petty part of you that despises her for what she’s doing to Cooper, and making you do, had agreed just to piss her off. 

Standing on the carpet with him now, though, his hand hovering over your lower back and a respectable distance between you two, you felt sick.  He’d made it clear to those speaking to him and calling out questions that you were simply his friend, nothing more. He didn’t say assistant, employee, or poor girl that he’d roped into this. He said friend. He was foolishly opening himself up to the risk of a scandal. 

And he didn’t seem to care. 

One woman’s eyes hadn’t left you since you’d joined him at his side. She was glaring holes into you, bitter jealousy and suspicion clear in her gaze. She would kill to be in your position yet would still tear you down later in her pathetic little tabloid. Out of instinct you tried to inch away from Cooper, the plastic smile on your face faltering slightly. 

He glanced over at you through the side of his eyes, his own smile twitching with discontent. His hand came up to your shoulders, fingers splaying across your back, one of them slipping under the skimpy strap of your dress. You inhaled sharply at the contact, warmth blooming everywhere he touched. He seemed to have noticed your reaction if his pleased expression was anything to go by. 

His hand slipped around your arm, tugging you into his side. It was almost comical how many more camera flashes went off at the move. He laughed slightly, the noise low and sending chills down your spine. You couldn’t help yourself, shamelessly indulging as you wrapped your own arm around his waist. His grip on you tightened for a moment before you both relaxed into the other’s touch. 

Scandals be damned. 

It almost felt like he was messing with you. You kept running, breath coming out in short painful bursts. You felt like your chest was going to cave in the longer you went. You couldn’t falter for a second, you could hear him laughing behind you. The cruel noise echoed up above you in the trees and haunted you the further you got. 

You’re sure he could have caught up with you by now, he was teasing you. Taunting you with freedom before that horrible rope of his was back around you again. It was ironic, honestly, considering how attractive you used to find him when he did those lasso tricks in his old movies. 

“You can run sweetheart! But you won’t ever be able to hide from me, not out here!”

“Fuck off,” is what you wanted to say. But at the moment you were pretty fucking busy with just keeping yourself upright. You weren’t sure how long you’d been running, could have been ten minutes, could have been an hour. By this point the sound of branches cracking under your feet and the leaves rustling above you was just one high pitched ringing in your ears. 

Your blood was pumping so hard all you could really hear was the muddied sound of your heart pumping inside you. The loud bang didn’t register until you were flying forward. Your hands slide across the forest floor, palms scraping sharply against the rocks and twigs. 

The adrenaline in you is pumping so hard, your instinct for survival blocking out everything else, that you don’t register any pain. You scramble back to your feet, boots slipping in mud you hadn’t noticed before as you do, and shoot off again. 

You can hear him growing a bit more distant, voice fading away to nothing the more distance you put between the two of you. He must have had to stop to fire off his gun, you’re sure it’s the only reason you manage to get away from him. 

Still, you don’t let yourself stop or take a moment’s reprieve. You keep running until you can feel the impact of the ground inside your bones. You keep moving even as your blood burns with exhaust under your skin.

You’re completely turned around, not even letting yourself have a second to check your Pip-Boy. Eventually, when you break through the border of the forest, you find yourself in an area that looks more civilized than you were expecting. It’s all cracked pavement and crumbling buildings, but at the very least it’s not an endless wasteland of red sand. 

Through cracks in old cement you can see life beginning to grow through the old dredges of humanity. You’ve completely lost sight of Cooper. You’d like to believe he’s giving up, but you know him better than that. He’s nothing if not stubborn. Still, you allow yourself to slow down slightly. 

You jog through an old neighborhood, looking for anywhere that seems safe enough to squat in. But in every house you pass you can spot Radroaches or hear something that sounds inhuman. You’d rather not risk it when the only weapon you have on you is a knife. Plus, you’re completely exhausted from the chase. You can feel yourself slowly losing steam, the only thing that’s keeping you going now is pure adrenaline. 

You hear a loud screech to your left and your head whips towards it. Nothing comes out of the dilapidated house but you can hear the floorboards creaking with the weight of whatever is inside. The noises echo through the neighborhood and it’s only then that you notice how dark the sky is growing. You haven’t been on the surface very long, but you can assume it’s better not to be caught unawares in the dark. 

You keep your eyes on the house, blindly stumbling backwards as fear courses through you. It nearly has you frozen in place. Images of inconceivable horrors darting through your mind as you consider what could be waiting for you in the house. Your heart is racing again and you turn around, bolting down the street. 

It sounds like a bomb goes off behind you and you duck instinctively. Your feet catch on an upraised root in the ground and you go tumbling forward. Your arms spin uselessly by your sides as your feet scramble for purchase on the pavement. You manage to right yourself, turning around just long enough to catch something that looks like a ram fucked a T-Rex. It hasn’t spotted you yet, it’s head tilted further into the neighborhood as the destruction of the old house surrounds it. 

You glance around desperately, trying to find anywhere you could hide. You recognized its form, a Deathclaw. Another one of Vault-Tec’s special projects. A collaboration with the US military and their scientists to create the next great bio weapon. A knife wouldn’t do anything to it except piss it off. 

Not too far from you, you can see a bright red sign. An old Red Rocket gas station that should be good enough to hide out in while you wait for the Deathclaw to move on. You move slowly, backing away while you keep your eyes trained on the beast. It’s only then that you start to notice an odd tingling sensation in your right thigh. It almost feels like a bee sting. You don’t have time to worry about it now, though. 

The Deathclaw’s head turns, nose pointed up in the air while it sniffs around. You take the risky move of turning your back to it and bolt towards the safety of the gas station. You move with a slight limp, your right leg dragging behind you as a cramp begins to take hold of your thigh. You groan through your teeth, reaching down and holding onto it like you can force it to keep moving. You’re surprised by the wet warmth you feel when you touch the pants of your suit. 

You crash into the door of the gas station and rush inside. You slam it closed behind you and lean against it, letting out a long relieved rush of breath. You finally let yourself slump, your muscles going lax and losing the tension they’d been holding for the past few hours. You slide down the door and fall onto the filthy floor, dust rising up around you as you do. The adrenaline you’d been so heavily relying on is starting to wane as your exhaustion crashes down on you. 

You pull your hand off your thigh and glance down on it. You almost feel disconnected from your body when you see the blood coating it. The bang you’d heard in the woods earlier, Cooper shooting off his gun. You’d foolishly thought that he’d just been firing around you or into the sky, like he was trying to frighten you. 

Your voice is small as you speak, a surprised whisper, “He fucking shot me.” Your head thuds against the door and you clench your eyes shut. The adrenaline must have been the only thing keeping you going. You hadn’t even felt the bullet make contact. The cramp in your thigh begins to get more intense, you feel like your leg is being bent backward and another second of pressure is going to break it. 

You grit your teeth, bloody hand slipping against the door as you force yourself to your feet. Your foot’s going cold and you need to find something to stop the bleeding before you lose any more blood. It’s a dull throbbing ache now, it’s only going to get worse the longer it goes untreated. You’d had a plethora of Stimpaks, but Cooper had tossed those to the forest floor like they were nothing. 

You suppose to him they are nothing. 

You put your weight on your left leg and begin to hobble through the gas station, hoping to find something useful. The entire place has been raided, the aisles overturned and the shelves are bare. You’re sure there used to be supplies here but they’re long gone. The only interesting thing that catches your eye is a radio on the counter. It’s right near a back door. 

If you’re lucky - which clearly you aren’t - there will be something good behind the door. You clutch onto the counter for support, cold sweat beading on your temple as the pain in your leg intensifies. You flip through the stations of the radio, hoping to pick up a helpful radio wave. 

“-friendly reminder that I don’t take requests. So, please, don’t try and visit me anymore.” The ear grating sound of fiddles fills the empty shop and you jump back in surprise. Of fucking course. The only radio station for a hundred miles and he only plays fiddle music. You go to turn the radio off but a loud clatter coming from behind the closed door stops you. 

Your hand moves from the radio knob to the crowbar on the counter and you limp towards the door. You press your ear against the cool metal but don’t hear anything else. Clutching the cold iron of the crowbar close to your chest you slowly pulled the door open. It creaked and you winced but you barely had time to process that before something was screaming and lunging at you. 

You went flying across the shop, the breath knocked out of you as you slid across the floor. You slammed into the refrigerated walls and rolled onto your hands and knees. Blood followed the trail your body made, still leaking from your thigh. You caught sight of disjointed feet rushing towards you and had half a second to react to the ghoul that lunged for you. The crowbar was swinging before you could think about it. 

Iron met skull and the dull, wet, thud had you cringing. There was a brief squeal before the feral ghoul dropped to the ground, arms and legs twitching around wildly. “Fuck me running,” you muttered, wincing as you dragged yourself back to your feet. Two more were waiting in the doorway for you and you briefly wondered if you should just kill yourself. Seemed easier than dealing with all this bullshit. 

But you were inclined to saving your ass, so you tighten your grip on the crowbar and wait for them to come to you. The second one was easy enough to deal with. You swung the bar against their jaw so hard half of it fell to the floor with a bloody splat. Then you brought it over the top of their head until you could see brains and it crumpled to the floor. 

But your strength was waning, any reserves you had of adrenaline were drained. You stumbled against the wall as the third lunged at you. It took everything you had to simply keep its rotted teeth away from your neck. Your arms trembled from the strain and your hands slipped against their neck as they snapped their teeth loudly. You pushed against them in vain, any strength you had was gone. 

Their head snapped to the side and your ears rang as a shot went off. The ghoul crumpled near your feet and you stared wide eyed down at the blood pooling out from under it. You looked to the right and saw Lucy standing at the door, gun in hand and eyes wide as she stared at the ghoul by your feet. 

“Lucy?” You spotted what she was holding and frowned, “Is that a head?”

Credit where credit is due. He’d never seen someone run off a bullet wound before. She’d barely even tripped before she was bolting through the trees again. He watched her flying over the roots and jumping around bushes of stinging leaves with a grin on his face. “Run rabbit run!” He shouted after her, laughing when he heard her fall again. 

He stopped, eyes darting down to the small pool of blood she’d left behind. He could follow the prints her boots left in the mud, and when he lost those, he could just follow the blood. The sight of it brought him more satisfaction than it should have. But along with it came the rage that she’d even managed to get away at all. 

He should have known she would try and fight back. He’d been hoping she would be unprepared for the surface, but Vault-Tec would never let their little soldiers out without knowing how to fight. They were meant to re-dominate the world after all. 

He forces himself to slow down, to savor the chase. It’s so rare that he gets to do anything but wait with his targets. He was going to milk this for all it was worth. He couldn’t wait until he got her cornered, snared like a wild animal. He’d love to see how she would try to fight back then. 

He follows the tracks and feels himself growing antsy. She doesn’t know the area, that much is clear. If she did, she wouldn’t be running towards a well known Deathclaw nest. Not much can do him real harm. Bullets, arrows, knives, pretty much anything can go through him and he’ll live. But there’s only so much healing you can do when a Deathclaw is ripping your arms off. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, watching as her prints dissapear and small dribbles of blood lead into an abandoned neighborhood. It’s getting dark, he’ll lose sight of the trail soon. If he follows it into the neighborhood there’s a good chance that she’ll already be dead. Either from blood loss or from running up on a Deathclaw in its home. He’s risking his own hide for nothing more than revenge. 

If he waits any longer he’ll have to camp for the night and there’s a chance he might not catch up to her again. He tugs the pistol out of its holster and keeps an eye out for any hulking beasts that might try and delimb him. 

There’s a pile of broken wood and glass in the middle of the road. Remnants of an old house. He can only assume it's the work of the Deathclaw, nothing else has half as much a penchant for destruction. He skirts around it, following the blood down the hill towards an old gas station. 

The dog he picked up in Filly runs up ahead of him, catching a scent and following it. He can only wonder what’s set it off but it’s not his main priority. If the damn thing runs off then so be it. The closer he gets to the station the more he can make out voices. There’s a light glowing through the window, flickering to life like a fire would. Among the voices is the staticky sound of fiddles playing. 

The music he recognizes as the work of the intolerable DJ he ran into a few months back. Man had his station boobytrapped halfway to hell. As annoying as his music was, he wasn’t worth the hassle to kill. He wished he had now, though. Just the brief bit he has to listen to is enough to drive him mad. 

Dogmeat barks and the voices go quiet. “Fucking dog,” he mutters. He doesn’t give them any time to prepare. He busts through the door, guns drawn and points them at the two women on the floor. Two-in-one, he gets the head and the girl. 

She glares up at him, hand wrapped around her bloody thigh. “You found me.”

He gives her a mean grin, cocking the hammer of his gun back. She braces herself but he points it at her little friend instead. “You can run, but you can’t hide from me sweetheart.”

Cooper led her into the theater. He couldn’t help but laugh at the way she visibly deflated. Her shoulders slouched forward and she lost some of the faux confidence she’d been forcing for the cameras. He almost felt a little guilty for dragging her along with him, but not by too much. 

When Barb had said she couldn't make it, well, he hadn’t hesitated. As horrible as it is, he’d been wanting her on his arm for a while. Could anyone really blame him? She was gorgeous, and it wasn’t all physical. There was a fight, a spirit, in her that he adored. It created a certain spark in her eye that had drawn him the first moment he met her. 

And still, in front of all of those cameras it was the first time he’d ever really seen her look unsure of herself. Indulging more than he should, he kept his arm around her, thumb idly smoothing over her bare skin. “You alright, sweetheart?”

She glanced up at him, lips parted and looking like she’d forgotten he was standing there with her. The odd sadness in her gaze disappeared, shuttered away behind her walls. She put on a tense smile and hummed, “Yep. I’m fine.” She took in a deep breath and straightened herself, looking more like the woman he recognized. “Just never really been a fan of cameras, especially not that many.” A weak chuckle and then she ducked out from under his arm using the guise of needing the washroom. 

He sighed, immediately feeling the absence of her body pressed against his. There was a clear lack of warmth as she walked away from him and the distance between them seemed larger than it should. “Mr. Howard?” Cooper turned around, a young woman was waiting behind him with a notepad in hand. He recognized her as one of the producer’s daughters and immediately turned on his charm. 

“Yes?”

She nearly blushed at the direct attention and eagerly held out the pen and paper. “Could I please have you autograph? I’m one of your biggest fans!” Meeting girls like her was one of his favorite parts of doing these premieres. They were always so kind and excited, waiting to meet him like he was some sort of hero. Sometimes it felt like he received the sort of attention as an actor that he should have when he was in the war. 

He smiled and reached for the paper, quickly signing off his signature. It had been one of the harder parts to adjust to when he first started acting, trying to get his signature right. Now, he didn’t even have to look at the paper to do it. The girl started rattling off her favorite movies of his, asking him questions he wasn’t really hearing. He knew he should be paying attention, it never does well to ignore producers' kids. 

But he sees his date moving into the theater out of the corner of his eye and suddenly can’t be bothered with the girl. He hands her the notebook back, cutting her off as he bids her goodbye and walks after the woman he’s eager to speak with again. A P.A. jumps in front of him before he can get very far. “Mr. Howard,” his smile is strained and they sound tense. Clearly, he’d been looking for him for a while. “You’re needed up front.”

She sits in the back of the theater, clearly tired of being front and center the whole night. Again, there’s that little pang of guilt in his chest that he’d dragged her out here. But it disappears as she takes her seat and the slit of her dress slides up her thigh. He jerks his head back towards the stage and focuses on just getting through his little speech. He thanks his supporters, introduces the movies, and the second he gets the signal is beelining towards her. 

She gives him a surprised look when he lands in front of her. “Aren’t you supposed to be up there with them?” She phrases it like a question but the tone of her voice sounds like a demand. He should be up front with the other actors and executives, but she isn’t. The only way he’s getting through tonight is if he can talk to her during the movie. 

He doesn’t often like revisiting his movies. He finds that if he watches them too much he starts to get too critical. He’ll pick apart every line, every action and expression. Eventually he’ll wear himself down and tire himself out by being too picky. 

He shakes his head and takes a seat beside her, arm resting on the bar between them. He unbuttons his suit jacket and leans back, letting out a tired breath. He’s been in the public eye a little bit more lately with this whole Vault-Tec partnership. He’s hoping he can take a break after tonight. Maybe spend more time with his family. 

Of course that means spending less time with her. 

The lights of the theater dim and the crowd quiets from its earlier rush of excitement. She leans back into her seat with an annoyed huff and one last lingering glare before diverting her attention to the start of the movie. He can hear the boot spurs ringing through the speakers, his own voice calling out to the villain of the flick. 

But he can’t take his eyes off of her. The annoyance had disappeared fast from her gaze, never really there to begin with. She’s got this sparkle in her eye and a sort of subdued excitement that pleases him to see. She can try and deny it as much as she wants, but he knows that she is one of his oldest fans. She gets a starstruck look everytime she sees one of his movies. 

But she doesn’t give him that same look, just the movies. 

Without thinking his hand reaches for her own. He doesn’t know why he does it, what could possibly possess him to do something so stupid. But she looked so damn beautiful tonight, he just couldn’t help himself. Her hand, however, happens to be on her thigh. 

He’d meant it to be a friendly gesture. But he was so busy admiring her he missed and his hand clasped around her upper thigh instead. He doesn’t hate the feel of her skin under his. The brush of silk from her dress and the warmth emanating from her. He should, he’s a married man after all. But she seems like such a perfect fit in every aspect of his life that he can’t ever imagine any part of their relationship being wrong. Even such an intimate touch like this feels right to him. 

He expects her to get upset, swat him off of her. She should, she has every right too. Instead, she places her own hand on top of his. She’s yet to look away from the screen, barely even twitching when he touches her. Her eyes are on the larger than life image of him, but her attention is solely focused on Cooper. 

She leans closer into him slightly and he can smell the sweet perfume she’d spritzed tonight. It drives him insane, how deeply attached he’s become to her. He recognizes that this isn’t her normal perfume and he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t know what perfume she wears, what her favorite nail color is or the exact shade of her everyday lipstick. But he does, he recognizes it all. Knows her better than he knows himself sometimes. 

It should surprise him. Him touching her should surprise her. But it doesn’t. Because on some level, they both know this is how it’s meant to be. They’re meant to be together, even if they shouldn’t be. He finally tears his eyes off of her, squeezing her leg slightly and she does the same to his hand. 

A secret message between the two.

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[roxygen22]

Thanks to the snack wars video he did with Austin butler we know timothee has a sensitive stomach when it comes to spicy foods. Maybe during date night he gets sick from spicy food and Female reader takes care of him. He feels bad for ruining date night but she promises he didn’t.

Plz

Spicy

>>puke warning<<

Timothée squirmed in his seat next to you in the movie theater. You and he had been excited for months about seeing this particular movie and were ecstatic to get midnight tickets on opening night. At first, he only made tiny shifts. You thought maybe he was just trying to get comfortable, but the frequency intensified about halfway through the film.

"Are you alright?" you whispered.

Timothée nodded, though you could see from the light off the screen that his face scrunched in discomfort. Suddenly he jumped out of his seat and ran toward the aisle. You sat there in shock as you watched him race down the stairs and out of the theater.

After about 10 minutes and no sign of Timothée coming back, you got up to check on him. You pardoned your way past the folks you were interrupting and found your way to the men's restroom. You paced for a moment, unsure of what to do next. You bounced on the balls of your feet and psyched yourself up to crack the door open and call out to him, but before you could, you heard the miserable sound of him puking.

"Timothée?"

He retched once more before responding. "Babe, go back to the movie."

"I don't want to see it without you, love." All he could muster in response was a groan. "I'm going to go buy you a bottle of water. I'll meet you in the hallway when you're able." You walked over to the concession stand and stood in line to get him a drink. He weakly walked out of the bathroom as you got back to the hallway.

You uncapped and handed Timothée the bottle of water. "Here, drink this," you instructed. He took the bottle with a shaky hand. "Any clue what caused this?" You gently placed the back of your hand against his forehead to check for fever.

"I went to that crawfish boil that Austin invited me to."

You crossed your arms. "Let me guess, the food was spicy?"

"Yeah, like the kind that makes you sweat and your nose run."

"Timmy..."

"I know, I know. But I didn't want to be rude. His family went through a lot of trouble to cook all that food. And once I got past the heat, it tasted really good."

You just shook your head. It was just like your Timothée to be polite at his own physical expense.

"I think I can go back in now." You looked at your watch. At that point he had missed at least 30 minutes of the film.

You paused. "I- I think we've missed too much of it. We'll just come back another time."

His face fell. "I'm sorry I ruined our date night."

"You didn't ruin it, love. But next time, try to lay off the spicy food before we are about to see a three-hour movie."

Timothée held out his pinky and linked it with yours. "I pinky promise."

You grinned and kissed his cheek as you walked arm-in-arm out to the car.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

[autisticlenaluthor]

Hi, my name is Rory, I’m going to the Eras Tour in Amsterdam on July 5th and if you guys could somehow help me get this to @taylorswift / @taylornation - it would mean so much to me

Three years ago, I went from being perfectly healthy, to watching my body and my health rapidly deteriorate. My entire world got turned upside down— I lost the ability to eat, drink, and even stand for more than a few minutes.

I don't remember much from when I first got sick. But I know I listened to Mr Perfectly Fine on a loop almost every day because it was the only song that could capture how I felt. I've known and loved Taylor's music since I was six-years-old and first heard the album Fearless. i remember the first song I ever heard (love story) like it was yesterday; but somewhere during that time, her music became like therapy for me.

Since 2021, I've been diagnosed with three incurable diseases. two of these are rare, and one is predicted to only get worse with time. I've spent countless days inpatient on the peds floor receiving treatment, tests, and surgeries. And through all of it-- I've leaned heavily on Taylor's music.

My mom bought our Era's tour tickets last summer during the Europe pre-sale. I was in the hospital at the time and immediately told all of my nurses, doctors, dietitians and basically anyone who came into my room, that a year from then, i'd be seeing taylor swift. Whenever I could get out of bed, I was in the playroom with my child life specialists, making friendship bracelets to give out to other Swifties at the show. The thought of going to the Eras Tour singlehandedly kept me going through the hardest time of my life. And it's kept me going ever since.

Months later, I was hospitalized again, right before the release of 1989 TV. I'd been admitted the day after seeing The Eras Tour Movie in theaters (I was in theater 13, row 13!!) and I remember being so relieved that I hadn't had to miss it.

I had become known by most of the nurses as "the Taylor Swift girl” and the night before another procedure, I stayed up until midnight with everyone else so I could listen to 1989 TV. Hearing those songs-- I felt the happiest I'd been in so long. I felt normal again. I was sick and I was alone but I was connected to every other person who'd stayed up with me and that feeling was indescribable.

Taylor gave that to me, and so much more.

Over the course of my journey, I've listened to Sparks Fly to keep me calm while my doctors inserted feeding tubes down my nose. Whenever I have to be put under anesthesia, I have a nurse put her music on shuffle so I can listen to it as I fall asleep. When I had my big surgery in December, the last thing I remember was Bad Blood playing in the OR and saying "this is a funny song to have surgery to".

All of this is to say, Taylor has given me strength and hope during the worst part of my life, and she continues to do so. Her music is truly everything to me and getting to go the the Era's Tour is already a dream come true on it's own. And if it's possible - being able to receive the 22 hat and give Taylor a friendship bracelet would make all of that pain feel worth it. It would mean everything to me.

if you could reblog this and tag @taylorswift and @taylornation I'd appreciate that so much!! thank you to everyone whose read this far, and everyone whose shared this <3

EDIT: I’m going to be in section 119, row 20, seat 11

also if anyone is interested, I included some pics of the mentioned moments below the cut!

seeing the eras tour movie the day before having to be admitted, and then making friendship bracelets for tour in the hospital

the mirrorball is hung in my room for good luck

the bracelets i’d started making in the hospital, right after getting the tickets

and the day of the 1989 TV release - id stayed up until midnight to listen to the album, and then had my anesthesiologist play ‘Style’ for me to play while they put me out for my procedure

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

amber freeman x reader with 14 would be soooo good

14. ‘’Picturing you with someone else makes me sick.’’

SCREAM WEEK PT 3/7

I got multiple requests for this one character/prompt combo. I couldn't not write it

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Amber smiled at the party-goers inside her house as she walked through the kitchen, pleased to see that people were having a good time. Her house was the perfect place for parties. It was massive and her parents were out of town almost every weekend. 

She got roped into a conversation with Wes and Tara, sipping her beer every now and then. 

‘’We should go. I’ll ask Mindy if she wants to come,’’ Wes said, looking forward to tomorrow’s double feature. ‘’The drive-in is an hour from here, but I’ll ask to borrow my mom’s car.’’ 

Amber wrinkled her nose. ‘’Do we really have to invite her? I don’t want to deal with her detailed critiques on the drive back.’’ 

‘’They’re showing her favorite movie. We can’t not invite her, Amber,’’ Tara reasoned, not wanting to be the one to exclude a friend — even for understandable reasons. 

‘’The last time we went to the theater with her, she didn’t shut up the whole walk to your house,’’ Amber countered, her irritation evident in her voice. ‘’I do not care what she will write in her Letterboxd review or what she—’’ She didn’t get to finish her sentence, her jaw tightening when she caught a girl chatting you up on the couch. She had a mischievous grin as was leaning in close, her hand resting dangerously high on your thigh. ‘’I’ll be right back,’’ she told Tara and Wes, her eyes not withdrawing from you.

She made her way through the crowd, quickly coming up with a way to get the brunette to go away. You were her girl. 

‘’Sorry to interrupt,’’ she interjected, approaching the couch with a practiced smile. "Didn't you leave with Sabrina last week? You might want to have a chat with her. I overheard her mentioning something about chlamydia and possibly spreading it around. It might be a good idea to schedule a check-up with your doctor." 

The brunette beside you thanked Amber for the information and hurried off in search of Sabrina. Amber’s warning made her look like a good person, like she was looking out for that girl, but you knew her too well to believe her intentions were good. 

Amber took a sip of her beer, then huffed a laugh. ‘’They think that because they’re lesbians they can’t catch anything.’’ 

‘’Sabrina does not have chlamydia,’’ you asserted, eyeing Amber skeptically.

She shrugged nonchalantly. ‘’She might. She’s making out with Connor on the porch, the guy gets around a lot.’’

You gave her the benefit of the doubt for this once. ‘’I’m gonna get another beer,’’ you said, standing up to get a bottle in the kitchen, but Amber grabbed your arm. 

‘’Actually, we’re low on beer. Can you help me get some?’’ 

Following someone into their dark basement was on the list of things to never do in horror movies. That’s how a lot of idiots get murdered. But you doubted Amber would ever plot to kill you. She could be evil-minded, but she wasn’t a psychopath.

The basement door closed behind you, making you jump. ‘’How many beers do you need to bring up? Because if it’s more than a dozen, we should ask Chad for backup.’’

Ignoring your question, Amber halted at the bottom of the stairs, her gaze piercing into you like daggers. ‘’What the fuck was that?’’ she snapped, her tone sharper than the edge of a knife.

Caught off guard by her sudden outburst, you blinked in confusion. ‘’What was what?’’ 

‘’Don’t play dumb with me. I saw you flirting with that bitch upstairs. You let her put her hand on your thigh. On my couch.’’

Ah, so that's what all the tension was about upstairs. Why she made up that nasty rumor about Sabrina. Amber was jealous. 

‘’I thought we weren’t exclusive.’’ 

‘’We’re not,’’ she grumbled, defensive.

‘’Then why are you barking at girls that get anywhere close to me?’’ you pressed as you took a step forward, a hint of amusement creeping into your voice. ‘’Are you perhaps…jealous?’’ 

Amber's reaction was immediate, her pride refusing to let your insinuation slide. She let out an indignant huff. ‘’I’m way better looking than that girl,’’ she retorted, her voice dripping with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

She wasn’t wrong. No girl in Woodsboro was prettier than Amber. 

‘’Then why are you acting like she can take me from you? That girl and I were just flirting for fun — at least, I was.’’ 

Despite your reassurance, Amber didn't release her grip on her emotions. Instead, she closed the remaining distance between you, standing so close you could feel her breath as she spoke. ‘’Never do that again, got it?’’ she hissed with a possessiveness to her tone that made your core clench. ‘’Picturing you with someone else makes me sick.’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres  @miqi-16 @not-liah  @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336  @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz  @ilovelandry  @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman  @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam  @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe  @gizmodecaprio @bingsbitch @buckyswhxre  @emerald-09

All and more taglist:  @kenqki  @hawkegfs  @gillybear17   @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade   @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3   @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs  @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis  @katherinejess  @rafesgirlstuff  @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

[facts-i-just-made-up]

What's the scariest thing you ever did see?

In 1997, late summer I think, I was with my mom as she ran some errands and then we were gonna see a movie, as it was a Saturday.

We left the house and she drove to the bank. I stayed in the car while she did something indoors really quick. Outside the car they had one of those wallside ATMs, nobody was using it but there was a guy standing next to it. He had a brown jacket on, which was weird because it was like 90 degrees out. He was coughing, a loud one I could hear through the car window. Horrid wet cough like a little kid’s cough where you could hear the clack of the spittle, but grown up and harsh and loud.

Mom came back, we headed to the tack shop where she was dropping off some saddle decoration stuff she did for them. The tack shop was maybe two miles away. Not far but we drove there. Made it in only a few minutes.

But that guy in the brown jacket was there. I told her I thought I saw the guy before at the bank, but she knew of course this was impossible and said so and headed in. Again I waited in the car. I was pretty sure it was the same guy. He didn’t cough yet so I wasn’t certain but the jacket was at least the same kind and color of jacket. Mom got back and as we pulled out, the guy coughed a massive hack and spit out black stuff on the white stucco wall. It looked like one of those rubber goo sticky hands, a long strand of shiny black with a big glob on the end, it looked like a part of an organ or something. It was sickening and I was now sure it was the same guy. My mom didn’t see him cough it up.

We headed to the movie theater. Maybe five miles away but it took a while to get there because of traffic and stuff. Parked way out because it was crowded, and walked up to the multiplex to get tickets.

I heard coughing. The same sick loud cough. I was looking around for the guy but didn’t see him there. But I heard him, the cough that made that gross damn thing on the white wall.

We got tickets and headed in. We got popcorn and as they put the butter sludge on I kept hearing the man coughing and thought I saw his brown jacket briefly at the ticket counter but wasn’t sure. We headed in toward the theaters.

We went in and sat near the back, we always sat in back so my mom wouldn’t get seasick if the movie had a lot of camera movement. We were seated between people and couldn’t get up easily to leave. And I heard the cough at the entrance. I saw the man in the brown coat coughing before the movie began, and then the lights went down as he walked in to sit.

Trailers played and I lost track of the guy. Movie started. The movie was Event Horizon, and yeah to answer your question, Event Horizon is the scariest thing I ever saw. That movie is horrifying.

[cobaltperun]

Lost (17) - Satellite

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 5.4k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-That's why we won't back down we won't run and hide-

Telling Chad you’d be fine without him, that he should focus on protecting Mindy and Anika in case anyone went after them was a right thing to do, but you still had no idea what to do. How to find Ghostfaces targeting you this time, or how to avoid them, you were stuck at the moment.

But, as the three of you left the hospital you saw her… Gale, like a reporter shark that she was, smelled blood and found you before any other reporter could.

“I heard what happened, are you okay?” she walked up to you, at least she didn’t have her equipment or anyone shoving a camera in your faces, with her.

“Gale, I swear,” Sam had no patience to deal with the woman right now, frankly, neither did you and Tara, but you couldn’t deny that maybe, just maybe you needed as much help as you could get, even if that help was Gale.

Gale immediately raised her hands in surrender. “Truce, okay? I’m- I’m here for whatever you need,” she said that, but, well, you’ve seen Gale going back on her word before. Maybe that was being too harsh, she didn’t go back on her word when Ghostface was on the loose, but she did break an important promise.

“Just like last time,” you said, already trying to spot a cab that would take you back to the apartment. Or anywhere else really. Staying near the hospital could put your friends at risk.

“Okay fine, off the records, okay?” she offered and well, you were stuck and all four of you knew that.

Sam sighed, nodding slightly. “Fine. Thank you,” she agreed.

Gale glanced at Tara.

“Nope! That punch was beautiful, and you will not be getting an apology for it!” you interrupted before Tara could even begin to utter an apology she didn’t mean anyway.

Gale chuckled and shook her head, expecting as much from you and Tara. “Guess I should be thankful you weren’t the one punching me,” she sighed.

“Exactly!” Tara grinned and lifted your arm up. “She packs a punch,” she rolled your sleeve up and patted your forearm.

Mere seconds later you saw a cop car stopping and Kirby and Bailey stepping out, and that’s how the six of you ended up following Gale’s lead and going to a former movie theater turned shrine for Ghostface.

You felt sick. Angry that someone could actually worship these monsters. So many people died. Everyone in this theater, aside from Bailey, was attacked at least once. You kept an eye on others, on Gale as she passed by Dewey's photos or her own books. On Kirby and Bailey as they focused on whatever grabbed their interests. On Sam as she went and touched the glass case holding Billy's mannequin. On Tara as she went over to Sam.

You were stuck observing crime scene photos from when Amber attacked Tara. You saw Tara's wounds, you knew minute details of each and every scar she had. You never saw the photos of her house from that night. It looked even worse than it did when you went to clean the house, it looked fresh, the blood was still not dry. You clenched your fists, wishing you shot Amber, you wished you could go back and finish her off instead of forcing Tara to do it. How many times did you wish for nothing more than for some kind of instinct or a precognition that would allow you to stop Amber before she got to hurt Tara in the first place.

You saw Tara going outside and were about to follow her when your phone rang. This time you checked the ID and saw it was Thomas. His timing really was the worst. With a groan, you answered the phone.

"Hey, Y/N, sorry to call like this, but I heard you didn't go to the gym last night," he opened up with that right away.

"Yeah, sorry, something came up," you didn't sound sorry at all, you'd abandon the gym a hundred times over if needed.

"Look, I know these past two weeks have been tough and I may have asked too much of you-" you really didn't feel like having this conversation.

"I'm busy right now, we'll talk later," you hung up before he could even respond to that. Since your phone was already in your hand you tried to call Susan one more time, but, as it always did these past two days, it just went to voicemail. "Fuck!" you cursed and stuffed your phone in your pocket.

"Troubles?" Bailey asked and you just now realized you were alone with him.

"Are you asking or questioning me?" you still didn't know where the police tracker came from. There was no way you were trusting anyone other than Tara and Sam, and, as much as it annoyed you Gale, as far as not being a Ghostface went.

"Just asking, sorry if I'm overstepping," he raised his hands apologetically and backed away.

You nodded. "You are overstepping," you said and tilted your head in the direction Tara and others went. "After you."

He sighed, but otherwise remained silent and complied with your wishes. The two of you found Sam and Gale in the midst of, from what you could see, burying the hatchet.

"Where's Tara?" you asked right away, honestly hoping you didn't all walk into a trap set by Ghostface.

"Kirby is with her, they went upstairs, wherever that leads," Sam told you and you tried not to panic. Kirby survived a Ghostface attack herself, surely she wouldn’t be a Ghostface, right?

"I think I have a plan how to catch these fuckers," Bailey said and you desperately wanted to agree with the plan. The sooner this was over the better.

~X~

You absolutely hated the plan Bailey had. And you were vocal about it. So, here you were, at the park, next to the van Kirby would trace the call from with Tara trying one last time to get her to change her mind. It was reckless, it was unnecessary, and you were sure a bit more of thinking would give you a better plan.

"Tara, please, at least think this through," you pleaded, already certain you were wasting your breath, but you couldn't just give up.

"I thought it through, Y/N, I'm staying with Sam," Tara leaned against the van with her arms crossed over her chest. She refused to look at you, but you saw the furrow of her brows, you saw her biting her lower lip, and you knew she was getting angry.

You’d still take her being angry at you over her being in danger. "It's dangerous, at least let me come with you," if you couldn't get her to stay safe, then you might be able to convince her to let you come with her and Sam. Sure, Bailey explicitly argued that you being there could discourage Ghostface from attacking, and you could see his logic, but you still wanted to stay by Tara’s side.

"It won't work if you're there. You can fight them," Tara huffed, clearly getting even more frustrated as you kept arguing. The two of you had been going back and forth on this ever since Bailey proposed the plan and she decided she wouldn't let Sam do it alone.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling a headache over this whole plan. And they weren't even out in the open yet. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Tara narrowed her eyes at that. "And it's fine if Sam gets hurt?!" she raised her voice and tightly gripped her left biceps.

"I didn't say that," you took a step back, trying to cool your head at least a bit.

"No, but you think I could get hurt, so you think Sam could get hurt and you're not trying to convince her not to do it," Tara took a few deep breaths.

"You and I both know I'd much rather take Sam's place, but no, Ghostface is after her so anyone else won't do!" you yelled, what little cool you managed to regain fading away way too quickly for your liking.

"Like you left last night? Right? Like how you chose to put yourself in danger even after you saw there was a tracker on your car?! Do you even understand how worried I was?!" somehow this was reminding you of the night you told Tara you were retiring from MMA.

"I fucked up, okay?" you spread your arms for a moment then let them drop at your sides. "I thought they'd try to finish me off first and figured I could use the opportunity."

"Yeah, you thought putting yourself in danger and possibly fighting someone that defeated you before was okay, but this isn't?" Tara asked incredulously.

"So, your solution is to go ahead and do something equally reckless? Is that what you're saying, Tara?" you had no idea how you weren't already shouting. You felt like screaming, but you still didn't shout, if for no other reason than because you didn’t want unwanted attention on the two of you.

"She's my sister, Y/N! I'm her backup, and if it comes down to it, we'll keep each other safe!" Tara yelled and, perhaps to avoid arguing further began walking toward where Sam was getting ready with Kirby and Bailey.

"Yeah, because being with Sam sure kept you safe every time Ghostface was involved!" you just snapped and watched as Tara turned around.

She was glaring at you. "Don't you fucking dare, Y/N," she warned, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

For once you glared back. "Am I wrong?" you challenged. As long as you could move and you were there no one, not Amber, not Richie, not whoever these Ghostfaces were, managed to touch her, let alone hurt her. Sam didn’t have the same track record.

Tara reached you, anger evident in her eyes, and then, as if she just made that decision at that exact moment, swung her palm toward your face. You caught her wrist, entirely unimpressed with how telegraphed the attempted slap was. "Don't ever try that again," you let go of her wrist and climbed into the van, shutting the door behind you, you missed the way Tara looked down at her palm, horrified by what she just tried to do.

You slumped down and absentmindedly touched the scar on the right side of your jaw. Once again you called Susan, once again you were left in silence. You looked at the last text exchange you had with her, the word fun popping up for some reason. Maybe you should take that vacation the moment this all ends, or at least the moment everyone heals up. Maybe spend a week or two in Sacramento, only you and Susan, and then come back to New York with her for Thanksgiving.

Maybe taking that small break from one another's company would be good for Tara, after all this wasn't the first fight in the past few days, and that one was before you even knew Ghostface was back. Sure, you talked it out and kissed it better, but this one just brought it back to your mind.

You only opened your eyes when you heard the doors opening because you wanted to be sure Kirby was the one coming in.

"You look awful," she commented.

"You look like it's none of your business," you replied, not really in the mood to discuss this with her.

"Someone's cranky," she just shrugged, not bothered by your reaction and you chose not to respond.

Too much time passed before Ghostface finally called, bragging about being a step ahead. And he was. He went after Gale. Bailey got in the van and turned the engine on.

"Where are Tara and Sam?!" you jumped to your feet when you saw he was alone. Your blood pressure probably skyrocketed as the worst possible scenarios came to your mind.

"They stole my car!" he exclaimed angrily.

At this rate, you were going to have a heart attack. "Who's driving?!"

"Tara," that girl was going to be the death of you.

"Are you crazy?! Tara can't drive! How are you even a cop you incompetent fuck?! How could someone just steal your damn car?!" a rage-fueled part of your brain cynically told you this was to be expected. That you should have realized Tara was too reckless to consider her own safety even back when she stubbornly convinced you to take her with you when you went after Sam back to Woodsboro after she just barely survived two attacks and had a broken leg. That you should have realized it when she first disappeared and went to a party with complete strangers.

When you finally reached Gale's apartment building you saw Tara and Sam sitting in the hall and you ran up to them.

Tara looked up when she heard you, or rather the running, and she got up, rushing to meet you halfway, only to stop, as if suddenly remembering the last interaction you had. You took a deep breath and just pulled her into a hug. She quietly sobbed into your chest as you held her.

"Is Gale still alive?" you asked softly and relaxed when Tara nodded.

"She was seriously injured, but she should be fine," she told you when you released her, your heart cracking a bit when you saw the pain in her eyes when you pulled away. With a hand on her back, you led her back to where Sam was still sitting.

"Hey," you squeezed Sam's shoulder, hoping to comfort her a bit.

"Hey, sorry we left you with Kirby and Bailey," she apologized and placed her hand on top of yours for a moment. You just nodded and sat down with Tara. There would be a better, more appropriate time to tackle that reckless decision.

Soon enough you saw Danny running in. "Hey, I came as soon as I could," he ran up to the three of you, looking mostly at Sam.

"Did you?" Tara challenged and he just looked at her, perhaps knowing better than to add fuel to the fire.

"More importantly, what now?" you chose to save him from Tara's anger.

"Maybe he gets to win this time," Sam's words made alarms go off in your head as you turned to look at her.

"What?" you demanded, not quite sure if it was just your exhaustion catching up to you, or if Sam actually just said that.

"He wants to punish me," she explained, on the verge of tears. "Me," she stood up and faced Tara and you. "So maybe I let him. I'll just give myself up."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing and for a split second, you wondered if Sam lost her mind. "Fuck that! Who do you think you are, huh?!" you got up and stormed away from Sam. "Giving herself up? Unbelievable!"

"If this is what it takes to keep you safe, it's worth it," the only reason you weren't yelling that she was out of her mind was because she was crying. Sam was crying and you rarely saw that.

You couldn't convince her, so you'd leave it to Tara and maybe scold her once this was all over, because not only was Sam important to you and your friends you did not want to see Tara dealing with losing Sam once again.

Tara stood up and approached Sam. "No, we're not doing that, Sam. You went back to Woodsboro to protect me. Every single day you make the decision to protect me. None of us would even be alive if it weren't for you. You have to let us protect you this time," Tara told her without a single hint of doubt in her words.

"No," Sam said weakly.

"Yes," Tara said firmly and from the corner of your eye you saw her pulling Sam into a hug. "We're a team, remember? I can't lose you, Sam, it feels like I just got you back in my life."

That was definitely going to work. The question remained though. What to do next?

"He's gonna keep coming after us," Sam pointed out while hugging Tara back.

"We could use that, though," Tara said and somehow you just had the feeling she was about to suggest something reckless before she even spoke up.

The plan? That involved Bailey and Kirby? Lure Ghostface into the movie theatre they used as a shrine and execute them. When Tara said she intended to execute Ghostface you looked at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and just accepted it.

'At this point, the best I can do is be the fucking bodyguard,' a moment later you wondered when was the last time you cursed this much. "Right, off to the murder shrine, where we'll definitely have the upper hand," you couldn't help but grumble.

~X~

You drove to the murder shrine, in your car, just you, Tara, Sam, and Danny. No public transport. Nope. none of that. You were not about to be suspicious of every stranger on the train.

When you parked outside the theatre you saw Kirby waiting for you.

"I talked to Bailey, let's get you all inside," she went right down to business, but Sam abruptly turned around and faced Danny.

"Not you," she said.

"What?" he asked.

"Don't trust anyone, remember? We don't know you, not really," she told him.

"I don't know, Sam, we could use extra muscle," you still weren't sure you could defeat that Ghostface in a one-on-one, let alone with at least two more on his side. And why did the three of you even bring him along then?

"Y/N is right and you know me," Danny tried to convince her.

"You're not Woodsboro. I'm sorry," Sam wasn't listening.

"It's okay. It's okay, I get it. Just be safe, okay?" he kissed her cheek.

Sam nodded. "You too," with that, she turned around and the rest of you followed, leaving Danny behind.

"Good call," Kirby said as the four of you entered the theatre.

~X~

Things just kept getting better and better, Kirby was the only one with a gun, the only one with any weapon, really, and you only had one exit, that could be blocked fairly easily.

Perhaps seeing the tense look on your face prompted her to do it, but Tara took your hand and pulled at it, frowning when you didn't comply. "Come with me for a minute?" she requested, looking softly into your eyes.

"Now? You want to separate from Sam now?" you couldn't help but ask.

"Please, Y/N," you could never resist her for long. Thus, you complied, letting her lead you outside of the shrine and into the hall where you figured tickets used to be sold. "You're stressed," she said, not quite getting into your personal space, but still remaining close to you.

"Can you honestly blame me? I'm one bad thing away from just breaking down, Tara. I'm just tired," the first time this happened you had moments to rest, you slept, and you felt safe at Susan's place, for the last twenty-four hours even when you weren't in constant danger you were either arguing with Tara or trying to reach Susan.

Sure, you slept yesterday, but that was over thirty hours ago at this point and you were really feeling the stress that accumulated over the past two weeks.

"It'll be over soon," she said, reaching up to touch your cheek, but stopping mere inches away from it. As if trying to slap you suddenly put an invisible barrier between you that was only temporarily broken by the adrenaline caused by what happened to Gale.

For once, you chose not to lean into her touch. "Let's go back to Sam," you said, and Tara nodded, lowering her hand. She walked in front of you, and you went back to the shrine to see Sam running toward the doors you just walked through with a knife in her hand.

You were immediately looking around, trying to see if she was running from someone, but somehow you couldn't see anyone.

"It's Kirby! She made this whole theatre a kill box, for us!" Sam explained rapidly.

"What?" you asked, but it made sense. The police tracker on your car, only Kirby having a gun, locking you here... Why would she wait though, and who was she working with? You knew there were at least three Ghostfaces this time, and it didn’t seem like Kirby had any definitive allies.

"Bailey is on the way here, but-" Sam continued as you went back to the middle of the shrine.

"Stay back to back," you interrupted her and the three of you stood in a circle, making sure you had each other's back.

"Wait, wasn't it Bailey's idea to use you as bait?" Tara reminded Sam.

"And Kirby refused to let Gale come with us," Sam said, frantically looking around for any trace of Kirby.

"Unless he figured that's what would happen. Just to be sure, how about we don't trust either of them?" you suggested, and she was alone with Tara, but she would have to be stupid to just try and kill Tara before.

Tara nodded and you felt her brushing her fingers over your hand.

You took and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Ghostface appears you stay still, you hear me. Don't make sudden moves," you could pull either of them behind you and counter-attack at any time, you just needed them to stay calm.

You heard footsteps coming from your left, where Sam was and you moved, getting between the masked attacker and her just in time to catch his fist and punch his face. "Fuck running, I'm fighting you head-on," you said as he stumbled back, from the grunt of pain you figured this was probably the one you stabbed last night.

The second one jumped out, but they didn't attack, choosing to circle the three of you instead.

"Sam, Y/N," Tara was close to panicking and you knew why. The third one. He still wasn't there, and you didn’t have that much luck one on one, let alone now that there were three of them here with you.

"I need you to be ready! You ready?" Sam asked she had her back to Tara's while you moved to stand closer to the front of her while not blocking her direct line of sight. Sam even handed Tara a brick, which was good, Tara needed something to even the playing field a bit.

Tara took a deep breath. "I'm ready," she took another deep breath. "Come on motherfuckers!" unnecessary, but as long as she was calm and ready. Or at least ready.

Shooting made both Ghostfaces take cover and you turned to see Kirby, bleeding from the side of her head, and more importantly with a gun in her hands.

Somehow, you relaxed, if she wanted to shoot you, she probably would have done it and used the element of surprise.

"Maybe it's not you after all," you said and turned to Sam. "Come on, what's the point of keeping cover at this point? Your aim really sucks though. Not even one bullet hit them," you said, you'd still keep your guard up around her, but for now you figured you could tentatively trust her.

"My head is bleeding, Y/N," she deadpanned.

"Meh, excuses," you replied, though Kirby having a gun really eased some of your worries.

"Kirby, get away from the girls!" Bailey rushed in, with his gun raised.

"Whatever you think, I'm not the killer!" Kirby quickly denied any involvement in this mess. "I don't know what he's been telling you, but don't listen to him!"

And then the third Ghostface, the one you were the most worried about, came up behind Bailey.

"Behind you!" Kirby yelled only for Bailey to shoot her.

"Great job, you three," Bailey said as the three Ghostfaces stood by his side.

'Right, this is happening. Four of them, just great,' you thought as you fully expected Bailey to point his gun at the three of you.

"You?" Tara asked, and you shared her disbelief, after all Bailey had no reason to go after you.

"Yeah, of course, it's me. Frankly, I expected more from you after what you did to us," he declared, as if this was reasonable, as if they should have expected him to be the Ghostface.

"Us?" Sam repeated, as puzzled by his statement as you and Tara.

"Let me guess, Quinn?" you figured since he was saying 'us' maybe his daughter was involved as well.

Indeed, the Ghostface to Bailey's right took the mask off, and sure enough, it was Quinn. "Hello, almost roomies. Too bad I couldn't resist messing with you when we met, but it was a good way to not be on the suspect list," she said.

You narrowed your eyes, realizing that this might actually be worse, because this now meant anyone could be a Ghostface, that they no longer played by the rules and skipped getting close to you and becoming a part of the friend group.

Then the Ghostface to Bailey's left took off his mask. "Mindy was right, it was easy to juke the roommate lottery!" Ethan exclaimed. "All I had to do to get close to you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad. Fuck, I can't wait to kill him!" he pointed the knife at the mask he was holding. "This was your grandmother's Sam. Nancy Loomis. Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? Speaking of family..."

"Wait for it," Bailey chimed in.

"My name isn't Ethan Landry, is it dad?" and Bailey just laughed at that, as if there was actually something funny.

"Dad?" Tara's eyes widened.

"And then they tell Sam it runs in her family," you sighed as Ethan and Quinn began pacing around once again. You remained focused on the only remaining masked one.

Bailey explained his plan, saying how they were counting down to Billy's mask. Jason and Greg, bodega, Sam's therapist, your shared apartment, that was four, with four of them there were now eight masks. The idea that one, Amber's mask, was still missing worried you. Was Gale the ninth mask? That didn't make sense, no mask was left behind and it was the last attack, not the first as the countdown should imply.

Convinced that the fourth one was content with watching you began walking around Tara and Sam, keeping light on your feet, and making sure Quinn and Ethan were on your opposite sides the whole time. This way you could react to either of them attacking. They wouldn't be allowed to touch either Tara or Sam, not with you right there.

"I'm gonna need you to put it on," Bailey offered the mask to Sam, but she slapped it out of his hand.

Ethan went in to slash her, but you stepped in, making him halt before he could reach you. "How are the wounds?" you taunted and just as it looked like he was about to back away the fourth one spoke, still using the voice changer.

"Step back, she'll just hit you again," he warned, actually sounding amused, and though it was clear Ethan didn't like that, he did step away.

Their plan was insane, though it was working out well for them so far. They ruined Sam's reputation, courtesy of Quinn's efforts, and as Ethan explained it further Quinn made a mock attempt to stab Tara.

You once again moved in time, regardless of her intentions, and pulled Tara behind you.

"Truly a guard dog," Quinn mocked and that's when it all clicked for all three of you.

They weren't Amber's family, but... "You're Richie's family," Sam realized.

"Yeah," Bailey said slowly, just for a moment showing the pain of losing his family.

"Ding, ding, ding!" not liking the enthusiasm Ethan had when he said it you stopped between him and Sam, he seemed ready to lunge at you, but the warning he got before kept him at bay, at least for now.

"Now! It wasn't until I saw those photographs of what you did to him that I knew! I knew you had to die for what you did to him! You had to be punished!" Bailey yelled, angry at Sam for what she did to his son. You couldn’t say you blamed him, you wanted revenge for what was done to Tara and she survived. Even if Richie was the one who started it all, he was still Bailey’s family, so you understood. But you still weren’t about to let him, or his children hurt Tara and Sam.

"Real great parenting, by the way," Tara commented as she glared at the man.

"Shut your whore mouth!" Quinn screamed at her but didn’t attack knowing she had to go through you first. Ah, so she was the one that called you.

"And you? What's your deal?" you gestured toward the still masked Ghostface, interrupting whatever Bailey was about to say.

"You really should have figured it out by now. I get that you probably didn't want to consider it since I did help you out so much," he removed the mask.

Your jaw dropped slightly as you recognized Thomas. Honestly, you should have seen it coming just from how well the bastard fought. "What the fuck?" you couldn't help but ask. "Are you kidding me right now? Do you have any idea how bad it'll look when I end up putting 'Killed my employer' down as the reason for unemployment?" why was he even after you. Richie's family you could understand on some level, they were the bastard's family, but Thomas? Really?

Thomas actually genuinly laughed at that. "Trust me, that's the least of your worries, Y/N," he said and held up a paper bag for you to see. "You wondered where Amber's mask ended up?" the smirk on his face, the tone of his voice, it all made you feel unexplainable dread. "Take a good look," he opened the bag and turned it over, letting a very familiar pair of MMA gloves fall to the dirty floor.

Despite Tara's attempt to grab your hand you took steps forward, stopping right between Tara and Sam and the gloves at Thomas' feet. "Susan," your throat was dry when you said her name. This couldn’t be happening, she couldn’t be dead, but he took Zack’s gloves.

"Exactly, it's been four days now, just so you know why she hasn't been responding all this time," he was taunting you. He was amused by your failure to figure out what happened to Susan.

"Why?! What did she ever do to any of you?!" you weren't the one asking that, it was Tara.

You just stared at the gloves, barely even registering your surroundings. If anyone wanted to kill you, well, there wasn't a better opportunity than this very moment.

"It's simple really. Susan was the only one who'd always, no matter what, no matter what the other choice is, choose Y/N. Your friends won't, Samantha won't, not even you would Tara. It would hurt you, you'd never forgive yourself, but you'd choose Samantha in the end," he turned to you as Tara remained silent. "Parents? Oh, they really don't care. Zack and Susan? Dead. You can try to deny it all you want, but the only reason you are still alive is because you were strong enough to survive on your own. Twice now you were stuck with me, no one came to help. Your girlfriend put up a better fight to protect a friend than she did to protect you. You are alone, Y/N, and you threw everything you could have been for nothing. Quite frankly, what I'm about to do is a mercy kill."

You heard everything he said and you relaxed. There was nothing. No rage. No despair. No remorse. No sorrow. Nothing. Just an empty state of mindlessness.

"That's it," Thomas grinned, tossing aside his robes. Then his eyes abruptly widened. "Wait, Quinn!"

"Y/N!" you heard Tara and Sam's scream.

You glanced to your left and focused on nothing but the blade that was approaching you.

A/N: Here's a fun question, how much would Tara suffer if she had to choose between Sam and Reader?

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Flames - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader- Part 2

Summary: You have your friends to help you through your pregnancy as Ethan gets the help he needs.

Part 1, Part 3

Contains: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of pregnancy

A/N: HI! I'm currently in the process of trying to update all my fics to include what's in the fic because I'M AN IDIOT and completely forgot about that😅

When you found out Ethan had something to do with what was happening a few weeks before, you were devastated. The kind, sweet Ethan that you first met when you were thirteen and went to visit Dewey and Gale in New York. You tried to have a long-distance relationship with Ethan until you met Amber in your sophomore year. Then you realized that you needed to be with someone that could physically be there with you, and you were wanting to explore your sexuality. Ethan was sad about it, but he understood. When you reached back out to him after everything happened with Amber, you’d learned that he’d lost his brother around the same time. You leaned on each other to grieve your losses, and you started to get your feelings back.

Your mom was so close to Gale, and after everything happened to Dewey, she flew out to New York for a while because Gale took it really hard. That’s when Gale suggested that you going to college there and getting out of Woodsboro might be good for you. You and Tara both decided to apply to the same school, keeping your fingers crossed that you’d both get in. Mindy and Chad did the same, and after a few months, you all got your acceptance emails on the same day.

Ethan was so excited when you told him you got into the same school as him. He was hoping the two of you had a chance to pick up where you’d left off years before. But then his dad came up with a plan. Ethan felt sick as he listened to his dad talk about you being one of the targets.

“I won’t be a part of this if you want to hurt her,” Ethan said, as his dad eyed him curiously. “I know her, okay? I really care about her.”

“You can’t be serious…you want us to spare a girl that had something to do with Richie dying?” Wayne questioned, “How do you know her?”

“It doesn’t matter how I know her, you aren’t going to hurt her,” Ethan had a scowl on his face, “And, Amber stabbed her first. She didn’t hurt him.”

“Fuck it, she can live…but everyone else dies.”

Ethan nodded at his dad’s words, “She doesn’t know you or Quinn, so this could work.”

Ethan spent days trying to hack into the university’s computer system after he realized that was a way to get close to Chad. Once he was in and was able to select him as his roommate, he started to search for ways Quinn could help. He talked to you about your plans and where you were going to stay. When you mentioned that you were moving in with Tara and Sam, and were hoping to find a fourth roommate, he knew that he needed to make sure Quinn got that extra room.

Wayne made it clear to both of his kids that they were to act like they didn’t know each other, and that Quinn was to be the only one to interact with their dad. Ethan started to get nervous when you got close to Quinn, but she felt like she could get close to you, because you weren’t going to die. Plus, she really grew to like you. When she found out you were pregnant, she couldn’t tell Ethan. She knew that he would probably back out of the plan, and it would ruin everything they’d been working towards.

When you left, Ethan was rethinking everything. All he wanted was to be with you, and when you went back to Woodsboro, he thought about hopping on a plane and leaving his dad and Quinn to do all the work. He knew he couldn’t, because they’d come to find him, and you wouldn’t be safe.

As Ethan and Quinn snuck into the abandoned theater that night, she knew his head wasn’t in it.

“Ethan, pay attention! We don’t have much time,” she whispered, observing Tara, Chad and Sam explore around the theater from the balcony.

“I don’t think I can do this,” he sighed, pulling the mask off.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked, “You’re going to ruin everything!”

“I have to stop this,” he said, standing up.

That’s when Quinn pulled the knife out, stabbing him a few times. His eyes were wide in pain and shock, not thinking his own sister could do this to him. He started to groan when she put her hand over his mouth to muffle him, not wanting anyone else to hear him.

“I’m really starting to understand why Richie was dad’s favorite son,” she said, as Ethan lost consciousness.

Quinn and Wayne tried to finish the job that night, ultimately losing their lives as they attempted to kill the Carpenter sisters. When the detectives discovered Ethan’s body in the balcony, he was immediately considered a suspect, because he was wearing the robe and the mask was on the floor beside him. He miraculously had a faint pulse and was able to be saved.

As you kept up with your friends and what was going on with Chad, Tara started to bring up Ethan.

Tara: I just wanted to let you know that Ethan’s going to be okay. He’s going to be getting the help he needs. I don’t know if you wanted an update, but I thought you would because of the circumstances.

You: Have you heard why he was a part of it? I haven’t seen anything new about it.

The details surrounding the situation were kept quiet. They wanted to verify all the information before it was released to the public.

Tara: I asked about it…and I don’t know if you want to know.

You: I need to know…I’m literally pregnant with his child.

Tara: Have you told your mom yet?

You: Yes, already had my first appointment. Everything’s looking good so far.

You: Quit trying to change the subject

Tara: Alright…Quinn was Ethan’s sister, and detective Bailey was his dad.

Your heart was pounding as you read the message. You started to feel like you didn’t know Ethan at all. He’d mentioned his dad a couple times, but you’d never met him. And he definitely never brought up having a sister, even when you were younger before all of this started.

Tara: They did it for Richie. He was Ethan’s brother.

You: What the fuck?

You started to sob as you held your tummy. As much as you wished the condom hadn’t broke that night, you still loved the tiny little person that was growing inside of you. You knew you’d do whatever you needed to, to make sure they’d always be safe.

The months passed quickly, your belly getting bigger by the week. Your friends flew back to Woodsboro for your baby shower, and decided to stay until after you had the baby. Yeah, you had your family, but you were so thankful to have your best friends by your side, too. Your parents decided to convert the large office they had into a nursery, which you were so thankful for.

“I’m happy you aren’t doing the stereotypical ‘everything must be pink’ thing,” Mindy said, as you walked through the baby section of the store with her and Chad. “What color are you thinking for the walls?”

“I think I want gray, but a light gray. I am going to have a little bit of pink in the room, and I think it’ll go well together,” you said, holding one of your hands against your belly as you felt your baby girl kick.

“Is this the crib you want?” Chad said, attempting to lift the heavy box. You nodded as Mindy helped him grab the other end and put it on the large cart.

“Please be careful. I know you’ve been going to physical therapy for months, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” you said to Chad, his face still wincing from the weight of the box. He still had some muscle damage that he was hoping could be fixed.

Chad was especially helpful. He built the crib, painted the room, assembled the changing table. Tara and Mindy took you shopping for baby clothes and all the little things you’d need for the tiny new person when they made their way into the world.

“Everything is so tiny,” Tara said, as she helped you fold the freshly washed baby clothes.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be a mom soon,” you smiled, adding a stack of clothes to a basket.

“I know we don’t really talk about Ethan, but do you think you’re ever going to tell him?” she asked, looking over at you.

“I thought about it, but I’m going to keep her safe. I don’t want him to know,” you sighed, “I know he’s getting help, but I can’t put her in danger.”

“It makes sense. She’s got all of us, anyway. You won’t ever have to worry about doing this alone,” she smiled, “We might be transferring back here.”

“What?!” you squealed, before you started to think. “You guys can’t do that…you’re about to start your second year.”

“Yeah, but the core five has to stick together,” she said, as Chad’s head popped into the room.

“I just hung the shelves and the pictures you wanted on the walls. Wanna come check it out?” he asked, a huge smile on his face.

“Yes!”

You walked into the room and immediately started to tear up. You noticed that Chad had finished everything, from the fitted sheet on the crib mattress and the white fluffy rug on the floor, to the light pink curtains that looked great with the light gray walls.

“Chad…thank you,” you cried, as he pulled you into a hug. “These pregnancy hormones will be the death of me,” you laughed.

“You’re welcome. Now everything is ready for the little lady,” he said, as Tara walked in with the basket of folded clothes.

“Almost, we just need to put these away,” she said, walking over to the dresser.

Not even a week later, when you went with Mindy to make sure the car seat was correctly installed, your water broke.

“Oh fuck,” she said, your eyes wide as you looked over to the older gentleman that had just finished looking at the car seat. “Uh, I think we need to go.”

“Well, the car seat is good to go. Just in the nick of time too, it seems,” he chuckled, looking down at the wet spot on the ground. “Don’t worry about that, go have that baby.”

He was nice enough to bring a towel out for you to sit on as you made the trip down the street to the hospital.

“Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, be screaming in pain right now?” she asked, as you rolled your eyes.

“The contractions still feel the same way they have all day,” you sighed, as Mindy drove about ten over the speed limit in the residential area. “Slow down.”

“Slow down? You’ve been having contractions all day and didn’t think to tell someone?” she asked, her voice raised as she panicked.

“I’ve been tracking them on the app. They aren’t close enough yet. Now that my water broke, I think we should get to the hospital, though,” you said, so nonchalantly that Mindy was confused.

“Are you nervous?” she asked, as you started to laugh.

“Yeah, but I don’t really need to show it when you’re freaking out enough for the both of us.”

The truth is, part of you wished Ethan was there with you. You couldn’t help but hate him a little, his shitty decisions leading to you doing everything without him.

When you made it to the hospital, and Mindy called your parents and friends, everything moved quick. Mindy opted to be in the waiting room, as Tara and Chad stayed with you until Chad started to get a little squeamish.

“Okay, uh, I think I need to get out of here,” he said, feeling dizzy.

“It’s fine,” you groaned, before looking at Tara. “You can’t leave though.”

“I’m not going anywhere, you’ve got this,” she encouraged you as you started to push.

It only took twenty more minutes for your baby girl to make it into the world. When the nurse asked you what her name would be, Tara perked up, dying to know what you’d decided. You didn’t want to tell anyone the name you’d picked out until she was born, but you were also nervous about everyone’s last name reactions.

“Um, River Judith Landry,” you said, Tara’s eyes going wide.

“Your last name isn’t Landry,” the nurse said, as she wrote it on the whiteboard in the room.

“It’s her dad’s last name,” you said, “He couldn’t be here.”

You wanted to avoid the awkward conversation. How do you explain to someone that your child’s father was in a psychiatric hospital for plotting to kill your friends? You knew you didn’t want him to be around your daughter, but you also didn’t feel right just pretending that he didn’t exist.

As the nurse walked out, Tara looked over to you, “Landry?”

“Yeah, hopefully she doesn’t hate me someday for giving her that last name,” you said, looking down at the tiny human in your arms. “I guess we could always change it one day if she does.”

“Maybe one day when he’s better, things will be different,” she smiled, looking down at your daughter.

“Maybe.”

You’d been home from the hospital for a few weeks. Your friends all got the transfer to the local college, even though you begged them to go back to New York and live their lives. They made the trip back to get their stuff, so you’d been doing almost everything on your own while your parents were at work.

As you shushed your daughter who’d just woken up from a nap, you heard a knock on the door. You walked over to it, your eyes not leaving her. You gently bounced her in your arms as you opened the door, instantly filled with fear the second you saw who was standing there.

“Ethan?” you said, your voice shaking. “What are you doing here?”

He had a million things he wanted to say to you before he made it to the door, but when he saw you standing there with a baby, his brain stopped working.

“I think you should go,” you said, starting to close the door.

“Wait,” he said, “is that baby yours?”

[moon-child-goddess]

When we say goodbye Pt 3

Pairings:  Druig X LightBender!Eternal!Reader (Fem) 

Summary: They stop the emergence and figure out what life holds for them.

Warnings: MCU Violence, Blood, Fighting, I used Fem pronouns, Kissing I guess, stray from canon events.

Author's note: I once again got carried this is 6k words. I tried to make it really fluffy. Also sorry it is late i was sick.

Part one Part Two

Druig studied the gold details caved into the walls of the plane. They looked a lot like the ones on the ship they came here on. The place that was their home for thousands of years. There was a black sectional in front of a theater screen that was playing a movie with no sound on. It was over the top compared to Kingos she had spared no expense. He didn’t know where to sit for the long flight. Y/N had made it clear to Druig that she was still mad at him and was doing this for the others.

Y/N currently sat on the couch in the corner by a window. A pile of papers was splayed out in front of her with no clear organization to them. She held on to a burner phone pressing it hard to her ear.  A picture of three men opening a crate was clutched in her hand. She let out a loud sigh tossing the photo to the side, and shuffled through papers looking for one file that she swore she grabbed on her way out.  She spoke in a hushed whisper trying to keep Druig out of her business. However, he could make out a few words.

“Take care of it Loretta… I know but you are… Call him… Don’t make me beg.”

When she hung up, she narrowed her eyes a raised her brow at him.

“You just going to stand there? or sit?” Y/N snapped the phone in half and handed it to the stewardess on the plane. And went back to looking through the files. She still had work to do if the world survived the emergence.

Druig however didn’t move, he didn’t even blink, he just stared at her. He was at a loss for words.

“Staring is rude Dru. I know Ajak taught you that.” She spoke softly looking up from the file. He finally sat down leaving four feet of space between them.  Druig stared at the movie playing trying to distract himself from the silence they were in. His gaze flickered over to Y/N occasionally wanting to interrupt her work but didn’t know what to say.

Y/N could feel his eye drilling into the side of her head. She read the same paragraph over and over again the words blurred together. His presence was distracting to her and feeling his eyes on her was not helping. She couldn’t do the work she wanted, and she needed to find a way to get rid of spiderman.

“Y/N?”

“No. I told you I would help. We are not friends. You stay there in your corner. I will continue to act like you are not here.” Druig sighed. He was once again at a loss of how to approach the situation.

Y/N became annoyed. All she could hear was him breathing and swore he was making up words for the movie. He was mumbling about something, but she wasn’t sure what. She pushed the papers into a somewhat neat pile. Then tossed them in to the bag she brought, and stared out the window as the dark sky.

“Do you hate me that much?” Druig spoke in a whisper. His accent made it hard for her to make out the words.

Y/N exhaled rolling her eyes. In truth no she did not hate him. She wanted to viscerally hate him, but she never could bring herself to even dislike him even after all this time. He was a light in her life that she lost and missed the warmth he brought her. That safe and secure feeling she had when he was near. It was just easier to wallow in pity and pretend that she hated him. Fake it till you make it was her motto for the last two thousand years.

“I- I don’t know. Not to sound like a broken record but you hurt me. I thought I meant more to you than the others. Because as much as you deny it you cared about them. But you left me when I begged you to take me.” She paused, taking a deep breath and licked her lips before continuing.

“Discarded me like human waste. Was I just temporary entertainment to you?”

He took the opportunity to scoot closer causing Y/N to stare at him instead of the dark sky. He stopped about a foot away testing the waters. He wanted to touch her. To comfort her and make her see she was his world.

“Sunshine. You must know you were the only one I genuinely cared about, besides Makkari.”

“Then why did you leave me?” Y/N cried out. And repeated the question quieter with glassy eyes. Tears threatening to spill out.

“I am so sorry sunshine. I didn’t want to leave you, but I was trying to be selfless for once. You loved every single one of them more than I could comprehend. I couldn’t pull you away from that, and you end up regretting it.”

She scoffed and looked back out the window staring into the black void of the night sky.

“They all left me too. I had sprite on and off during that time. But those two thousand years were hell. You took a part of me I don’t think I will ever get back.”

Druig reached out and gently grasped her hand rubbing his thumb over her wrist stopping at her pulse. He wanted to fix this. It was never his intention to hurt her.   

“Was it really that bad?” She pulled her hand out of his hold and set it in her lap.

“I watched the man I loved walk away from me, and then the man I fell in love with was murdered in front of me. We got six glorious years that was it. A blink to us eternals.”

Druig flinched. Loved? As in past tense? he thought. Scared of the answer she may give him. She kept looking out the window refusing to acknowledge him. Y/N pulled her feet up on the chair hugging her knees to her body trying to make herself look small. She wanted this conversation to end. Every emotion she had pushed away for centuries was surfacing.

“Loved?” Druig couldn’t resist, he had to know. Y/N pinched her lips frowning.

“That’s what you care about? You don’t have to worry I got over my unrequited love a while ago.”

“Do you honestly believe that I didn’t love you? Please look at me Y/N” His voice was raw, and she hesitated to do what he asked. Eventually giving in to the side that still cared for him.

They stared at each other. His blue eyes keeping eye contact with her.  Feeling overwhelmed with the emotions he held in his eyes she turned her head slightly. He moved with her to keep eye contact.

“You must know you are the only one I care about. Y/N, I never wanted anything more in my life. You are beautiful and my sunshine. Every time I called you sunshine that was me saying ‘I love you’. I was scared that I had these feelings and you deserved better.”  

Y/N let a tear escape. She didn’t know what to say to him. Druig gave her everything she wanted to hear from him.

 “I will apologize for the rest of our existence. I will beg on my knees for you to let me back in.”

 Y/N giggled through the tears that fell. A sight she would have liked to see. He cupped her face wiping the drops away giving her a soft smile. Her skin was cold to his warm hands.

“I don’t know what to say.” She whispered. For once she was at a loss for words.

In response he laughed, his breath fanning over her face. The minty smell was overwhelming. She scooted closer to him, their faces a centimeter apart. Her eyes bore into his. She took a deep breath to stop the tears. His familiar smell filled her senses again. Oh how she had missed this familiarity, the feeling of home.

“You still smell good, and it is infuriating.” She mumbled.

He laughed again, his accent coming out a bit more. This was the person he knew. The one he loved.

“So do you.”

Y/N shook her head his hands falling one landing on her thigh. She laid her head on his shoulder suddenly very tired. Druig rested his cheek on the top of her hair, savoring her touch and made a silent promise to never let her go again.

Soft snores came from her as she slept soundly. He took in her tranquil state and traced a finger over her features softly to avoid waking her up.

----

“Why are you wearing a leather jacket in the desert?” Y/N teased as they tracked through the hot sandy hills of Iraq.

“Because I like it.” Druig shrugged, sending her a small smile.

The outline of the rest of the eternals grew the closer they got. Y/N picked up speed practically running to them. Druigs hand shot out resting on her lower back ready to catch her if she fell. The closer they got the faster she sprinted. After being apart from most of them for centuries she was ecstatic to see her family again. Mainly Thena and Sprite (but she would never tell anyone that). Sprite had been her best friend through the toughest of times.

“Y/N” Sprite called out when she saw her figure approaching.  

Sprite ran toward her. Once close enough they enveloped each other in a bone crushing hug. Y/N clung on just a little longer. The last hug she had with her was at Giovanni’s funeral.

 “I am sorry I pushed you away Sprite.”  

“It’s ok, I get it. I was going to lecture you about finding yourself again plus you were in a dark place.” Sprite held an honest and forgiving tone as she let Y/N go.

Y/N bit chewed on her upper lip. She knew this kindness was more than she deserved after everything she had done, but it meant the world to her that Sprite still treated her the same.

“I am working things out, but I am here to assist.”  

“May I cut in?” The blonde warrior asked from behind sprite.  

Y/N squealed. Launching herself at the unsuspecting women.

Thena smiled and grabbed Y/N’s face. Her eyes traced over the girls’ features taking in every inch of the face she hadn’t seen in so long.  Y/N looked the same, just tired and a little sadder in the eyes. After a moment Thena picked Y/N up in a bear hug twirling them both around. Both of them let out a giggle. It was the happiest Y/N has felt in a long time.

“I have missed you.” The warrior spoke while setting Y/N back on her feet.

“As I you.”

 “Sorry to interrupt this moment, but Druig can you get rid of the humans over here?” Phastos called out from where he stood.

Druig nodded and glanced back over at Y/N. She was still smiling at the two people in front of her, clearly elated. His heart skipped a beat at the sight.  In the time apart from her he often dreamed about that smile.  He nudged her shoulder hands in his jacket pockets and tilted his head towards everyone else. Y/N gave him the same smile and looped her arm through his walking with him. It felt like the good times when they would stroll around town before everyone was awake.

Y/N said a soft hello once they stopped near the others. Sersi gave her a light embrace muttering a sweet hello.

“This is Y/N she can manipulate light into anything she wants it to be.” Kingo held an animated tone while speaking directly to the camera Karun was holding. Karun panned over to the women who waved at him not entirely sure what was going on.  

“Not anymore. I can manipulate shadows though.”  Y/N tried to sound carefree as she spoke it aloud to the group, but failed there was an edge to her tone.

“Oh really! I may need to change the script for my next movie then.”

“You are still making those?”

“Yes, the people love me.” Kingo said in a duh tone.

“Who is this man?”

“Oh, that is my assistant Karun.”

“And he hasn’t run for the hills?”

Kingo shot Y/N a glare offended. He didn’t have a chance to remark as the wind picked up as Phastos summoned the ship.  Sand blew towards them. Y/N was cursing the fact that she was the only one who didn’t bring sunglasses. She buried her face in Druigs back holding her breath. She let out a small gasp when Druig reached behind and set a hand on her hip.  

----

The group of eternals crept through the ship at a snail’s pace. Kingo whispered into the video camera speaking ominous words that sent a chill through the group. He was acting as if there was going to be an axe murder hiding on board to kill them.  

“What are you doing? You know you are creeping us out right?” Phastos spoke up.

As if on que a loud pop echoed through the hall. Causing Y/N to flinch at the loud sound. She let out a small yelp and clung on to Druigs side. He let out a soft chuckle before putting an arm around her shoulder pulling her in closer.

“Its ok,” He murmured in her ear. “Thena stepped on something.”

“You turned my lab into a sarcophagus?” Phastos cried out to Makkari using his right hand to gesture around at the things strewn about.

Makkari was perched on a throne with a plethora of books surrounding her. She smiled once the group came to a stop in front of her.  She asked them if it was time to go home.

Y/N’s face twisted into a grimace not ready to break her spirit. She too wished to leave this plant and start over.  Makkari frowned once she took in everyone’s sullen expressions.

“Who is going to tell her?” Y/N asked.  She did not want to be the one to crush her spirit. She may have been a cruel person to those that deserved it, but she couldn’t do it to her family.

“I will do it.” Kingo volunteered after a moment of no one talking.

Phastos got to work immediately wasting no time in finding a solution. While the rest started rummaging through the goods in the room.

Y/N was rummaging through a box of paintings next to where Sprite sat on the ground. The red head was reading an old scroll. It was in a language Y/N had long forgotten. She stumbled across a dusty painting that a king had once gifted her.

‘It would be such a shame no to capture such beauty.’ He had said to her while obnoxiously drunk at one of his parties. No matter what Y/N said he would not take no for an answer. Leading her to reluctantly agree to letting him commission a piece. She pulled it out of the crate to look at it better. The colors had faded throughout the centuries.

“That king wanted to marry you. He almost proposed too, but Druig got involved.” Sprite spoke up. Lowering the scroll she was reading from.  At the mention of his name Druig turned to face them. His jaw clenched when he took in what Y/N was holding.

“I merely saved him from heartbreak when she inevitably said no.” Druig called out. Y/N rolled her eyes setting the painting back to its proper place.

Y/N narrowed her eyes as she watched Druig pick up her old journal from a pile in the corner of the room. Before he could open it she took off towards him. It was full of so many things that she didn’t want anyone to read.

“Give it to me.”  Y/N panted once in front of him.

“Oh, you want this” He held the book above his head with a smirk.

Y/N huffed out and jumped up trying to get it. On the third try her hands touched the leather. She had half the mind to tackle him, but she knew he wouldn’t budge.  Instead, Y/N got on a table to make herself taller.

“Yes, now please give it to me, or I will stab you.” The threat fell on deaf ears, as Druig lifted her from the table setting her back on the ground. He rested his forehead to hers smiling down at her angry look. He held the journal out to the side still just out of her grasp.

“What’s in here? Your dirty thoughts?”

“No.” Y/N blushed answering way too quickly. A heat coursing through her face.

Druig cackled, bringing everyone’s attention to the two for a second.  He handed her the brown leather book tapping her nose with it before walking away.

Y/N made a mental note to burn the book as soon as possible while hiding it under a pile of miscellaneous items. On the other end of the table was an old talisman Ajak had loved and wore it often. Y/N picked it up her heart breaking at the realization she would never see the women again. The air around her became stale as she tried to steady her beathing. Losing all the joy she had moments ago.

“Now where did you end up finding the Emerald tablet at Makkari?” Druig asked not too far from where Y/N stood lost in her thoughts.

Y/N grinned and turned to them. She had found it at an underground black-market auction. Where she bought it for more money than she cared to admit. A trusted friend of hers had packed it and delivered it personally to Makkari. With a note apologizing for ever doubting that it was real. It was her penance for making fun of her friend looking for something that sounded insane.

‘After all this time I found it. Sorry for doubting you- Love Y/N/N.’  

Makkari pointed at Y/N. Signing out the story to Druig with a small grin on her lips.  It was a fond memory of hers when the mysterious package showed up.

Y/N plucked the tablet from Druigs’ unsuspecting hands. Her fingers brushed over the carvings on the stone. When she bought it she had barley looked at before sending it off. There was a lot to do, and the CIA had been on their way to her base in California. Druig watched as she bit down on her bottom lip furrowing her eyebrows at the green rock.

‘You finally admit you love her?’ Makkari signed to him with a knowing smile.

‘Shut up’ he signed back.

“I found a way to connect us all” Phastos called out pulling everyone back to him.

The plan was insane. Even if it did work who knew what the repercussions would be.

The group began to do what they do best and bicker with one another.  It was irksome to Y/N that they were here to save the humans and they still were all in disagreement. She rolled her eyes tuning out the yelling. Eventually they would calm down and they could try to solve the plot holes in the plan.  

“We could be responsible for billions of lives not being created in the universe. Boss am I right?” Kingo cried out his words seemed to confuse Ikaris.

“Say something Ikaris! Y/N?” Sprite spoke out. A quite tension filling  the room as they all stared one another down.  

“I don’t care what we do one way or another.” Y/N spoke. “We run a risk no matter what. Arishem will be mad at us.”  

Ikiaris suddenly ran out of the room clearly shaken. Y/N knew that look on his face he was guilty of something she wasn’t sure what it was, but he carried a look of guilt in his eyes.

----

Y/N sat on a table watching Phastos work in awe. His fingers were incased in gold circles making rings on his fingers as he worked. He was rushing to find the answers and find some way to help Druig put the celestial to sleep.  If the situation wasn’t so life or death it would have been a beautiful thing to watch.

“I am close to figuring it out.”  Phastos glanced up at Ikaris who strolled into the room. The man glanced at everyone in the room before clenching his jaw and swallowed. His eye shifted to a gold color.

“Watch out!” Kingo hollered.

Y/N body tackled Phastos to the ground not caring if she got hit in the process. They needed him more than anything.

Sersi booked it into the room, joining the chaos that was quickly erupting.

“He lied to us he knew about the emergence.”  Sersi spoke standing in front of Phastos. Protecting him from Ikaris.

“No.” Kingo said in disbelief. Voicing everyone’s thoughts.  

“Ajak told me everything when we left Babylon.”

“If Ajak wanted you to take her place, then why did she choose me?” Sersi swallowed. Deep down she knew the answer and was ready to face it. It was all Y/N needed to know that he did something unspeakable it connected all the dots.

“What have you done?” Sersi whispered when Ikaris made no move to answer her.

“He killed her.” Druig and Y/N said at the same time. 

The group went silent.

“You are a pathetic murderer.”  Y/N snarled.

It was hypocritical of her to say she knew that, but he killed family. Someone innocent. One of the only family members they had.  

“That’s rich coming from you. How many people have you killed?” Ikaris softly spoke his tone apathetic towards her.

Y/N Flinched taking a step toward him. She expected that answer honestly but wasn’t ready for her family’s judgement. Even coming from someone as pathetic as Ikaris. She understood why Druig hated him so much.

“I am not below taking one of a douche canouche.”

With in a blink there was a terrible troll like monster behind the smug man in blue. One twitch of her pinky and it would attack. A wicked smile crossed her lips. She would cross a line to redeem Ajak any day.

“Y/N” Druig called out. He took slow long strides to where she stood.

“Why?” Sersi managed to ask through her tears.

“I had to.”

Y/N screamed out ready to lunge at him. That was a pathetic answer; had to do it? She didn’t know when she grabbed one of her knives, but it was gripped tightly in a way that was useless. It wouldn’t do her any good in a fight against him anyway, but she didn’t care. She was willing to try. Druig wrapped an arm around her waist stopping her movements.

“Stop its not worth it.” He whispered to her. Trying to pull her back in.

This was not a fight they needed now. There was an emergence to stop.

“You will not succeed against me. I will kill everyone of you if I have to.” Those were Ikaris’s last words before he started to walk out.

“Wait. I am going with you.” Sprite finally spoke.

“Sprite no.” Y/N wanted to say more but in a blink of the eye they disappeared.

----

Sersi, makkari, Druig and Y/N started down the volcano that smoke was emerging out of. It was ready to blow at any moment.  

“It’s time” Sersi said once it rumbled.

Before Druig could do anything, Ikaris was there knocking him over.  

“Ikaris” Y/N warned the man.

“I should have done this five centuries ago” Ikaris spit out ignoring the yells, while pulling Druig up by the throat.

“Druig.” Y/N called out as ikrais flew off with him. Makkari screamed.

They watched as Ikaris threw Druig down. Both of them feeling utterly helpless in the moment. Then watched him attack the ship bringing it down. It was going to crash on them if they didn’t move. Makkari fast as always pulled everyone out of the way from the ship coming down.

“Druigs gone now its over.” Ikaris said from above them.

No, no, this cannot be happening. He cannot be dead. Y/N’ thoughts paced. Their plan was quickly falling apart. She went through rapid emotions before settling on anger. If Makkari hadn’t run off with him she would have attacked.  Rage gripped her heart. She wanted to hurt the man for taking so much from them.

The volcano rumbled again before erupting, setting off a minor earthquake. The environment around them began to change quickly.

“I have to get closer to Tiamut. Distract Ikaris” Sersi begged the group.

“My pleasure.” Y/N spoke mincingly in a ready to attack position.

They all took a chance at stopping him from doing killing anyone else.  Phastos shot pierced the air missing the man who seemed to be unstoppable. Thena fierce and unstoppable unleashed her weapons each strike doing some damage.

Y/N felt like a bystander desperate to do something, anything. But there were not enough dark patches for her to pull from. Her heart began to thunder against her chest when she realized how powerless she was.  

“Y/N use the light.” Thena called out to her from chaos on the other side of the beach.  

“I don’t think I can.”  Y/N confessed her fingers trembling.

“Try!” The blonde women commanded.

Y/N obeyed the warrior and reached out to the light trying to form anything. Light responded forming a fragile rope of gold it whipped out. As quickly as she had formed it dissipated in to the wind.

She groaned, growing frustrated, and tried again. Shadows merged with the light.  Shadowy golden monsters materialized scattering across the beach. Thena let out a whistle at the unexpected power of the girl.

Emerging from the depths of the ocean a deviant appeared in its grotesque form capturing every eye on the beach. Y/N hurled every monster in her arsenal at the creature. It was a useless attempt. Every time her monster got a cut or hit in the deviant mended itself unbothered. He managed to take out Y/N’s army quickly.

It lunged for Ikaris, hungry for blood. It was ready to attack him, and consume his powers.  Phastos, however, saved him from an untimely fate.

“Why are we helping him?” Thena asked and Y/N wanted to know the answer as well.  

“We can’t let him absorb our powers.” Phastos stayed calm. Ready to fight back.

Thena managed to drag the creature’s attention to the cave across the way. They all called out trying to stop her before Ikaris attacked again. This time Y/N held him down with ropes of black. The flying man was now grounded in front of her.

“Don’t do this Y/N.”

“See Ikaris you took all I had left. Which means I have no will to live, and that right there makes me dangerous.”

Ikaris struggled aging the bounds, but the more he fought the harder the hold she had on him became. The man screamed out in anguish trying to shoot lasers at the girl. They missed and the Shadows covered his eyes blinding him temporarily. Y/N let out a giggle this was rich she had the upper hand, and she was going to take advantage of it.  He would have a fate worse then the man who had betrayed her 56 hours ago.

“Guys the world is literally starting to collapse.” Phastos turned her attention to the damage happening around them.

Tiamut began to emerge from the pits of the earth. Y/N wasn’t sure what she expected but the thing was massive.  They were losing the fight and it started to scare her a little. They could die and it would have all been for not. Her powers lessened their hold on Ikaris, and he took the moment to escape.  

But before he could do anything the celestial began to turn white. Sersi was freezing it, and Ikaris took off angrier than ever.

Y/N laid sprawled out on the beach closing her eyes. Her eyelids were heavy and unable to stay open. Exhaustion clung to her limbs, she was ready to sink in to oblivion and forget that Druig once again slipped through her finger. A single tear escaped trailing down her cheek landing in the grains of sand. She squeezed her eyes tight refusing to feel the pain. Heartbreak had followed her for years and she didn’t want to feel it anymore. Yearned to cut the ties with that pain.

“You know Sunshine, I thought you would be a little more upset.”  Druigs voice cut out through her haze. The accent wasn’t as thick as usual there was a softer edge to it.

“Another hallucination great.” She muttered out bitterly. “How long will these ones-“

“Y/N look at me please. I am here. I wont ever leave you again.”

She cracked an eye open and he was there looking down at her.  A smug smile on his face and delightfully real. She shot her feet and put a hand on his chest. One of his hands came up and held it there anchoring her hold.

 “I thought you left me again.” It was a barley audible whisper. As fragile as glass.

“Never my beautiful beautiful sunshine”

“Hug me please” She begged him, and she never begged a vulnerability she rarely displayed.  

Druig didn’t make her ask twice. He pulled her body to him his arms cocooning her to him. His face nestled in the crook of her neck, and she played with the hair at the nape of his neck.  They closed their eyes taking in the warmth of the hug.

“You are alive.” She murmured aginst his shoulder. “I forgive you. You are alive - don’t leave me again.”  

“Never. I promise” His words tickled her neck.

----

It was a warm afternoon at Ajaks house. Y/N sat on the porch staring out at the grassy field, avoiding the group inside. They were making plans for their future, and she was more lost than ever. Unsure of what to do. Loretta was officially in charge of the empire she had built. Y/N told her exactly how to shake the spiderman and wished her all the luck.

Y/N mindlessly created butterflies letting them fly away to eventually disappear. Part of her wanted to just disappear and do nothing for at least fifty years. Vacation in the Poconos and maybe Greece.

“Ahh there you are sunshine.”  

Druig was standing behind her. Hands fisted in his coat pocket. He watched a butterfly fly away before sitting next to her. His blue eyes traced her face trying to figure out what she was feeling.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what I am going to do now. I gave Loretta the business, and now I have nowhere to call home or go.”

She was anxious and afraid, her heart beating against her ribs. Fear wound its claws through her thoughts. Even though he was standing there and promised to never leave she couldn’t help but wonder if he would abandon her again.

“I was thinking about going with Thena. Join us in finding other Eternals, it will be an adventure. If you don’t want to though I will follow you wherever you go. I never want to be parted from you again. We can make a life anywhere you want.”

Y/N leaned into him laying her head on his shoulder whispering an ok. Druig with a gentle finger under her chin lifted her face to meet his gaze.

“Yeah?” a smirk splayed on his lips.

“Yes.”

With those words Druig picked Y/N up and moved her to his lap. Her knees finding their place on either side of his hips.  His large hand cradling the the back of her neck drawing her face down to his. Her breath mingling with his. He nudges her nose with his own. Hesitation dances in his eyes, a delicate balance between longing and fear, as he debated on crossing the line he has yearned to cross throughout his entire existence.

“Dru.” She whispered her tone fragile a secret hidden in her words.

He hums in response.

“I love you.” She confessed.

And in that suspended moment, the world ceased to exist. His lips met hers like a man starved. It was needy and rushed, but it was perfect.  His kiss was a wild storm, a tempest that promised her forever. She melted into him pushing her body closer to his, her body seeking solace in him. Her soul was home in his arms. His hand, once firm on her neck, now cradled her face. Fingers slowly threading through her hair. She whimpered, lost in the sensation—the taste of him.

He smiled against her lips at the sound and broke away. Druig kissed down her jaw, a trail of fire left behind each one.  Each touch was a vow etched into her skin. And as she caught her breath, she knew: this kiss was the beginning of their forever.

She pulled him back giving him a peck. He groaned wanting more after finally knowing what it was like to have her.

“Dru.”  

He hummed again in response, trying to kiss her, but she shook her head. The laugh he missed escaping her.

“Thank you for not hating me and what I did.”

“My beautiful, beautiful sunshine, never. I love you. I always have.”

She let him kiss her again. Ready for their next chapter.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my friend she can't sing?

So I (F17) am in my school's chorus class. I have been in chorus classes since 1st grade, and I also sing in my church choir and am part of an a capella group. I love singing and plan to go to school in musical theater. And even with all this experience and the skill that comes with it I would just call myself a decent singer. I'm not amazing, I'm not gonna win any awards, but I can more than carry a tune.

In contrast my friend Leah (F17, fake name) just joined chorus class this year and only did it to hang out with me and a couple other friends in the class, and thinks she has amazing talent. She thinks she's gonna be the next Stevie Nicks or Celine Dion. But she sucks. Like, objectively so. I'm not just trying to be mean. A friend in her section told me our teacher has actively told their section (on a day she was out sick) that they need to sing louder than her at our next concert so no one can hear her. While we rehearse for concerts Leah sometimes gets pulled aside for one on one times with the teacher in his office, and she keeps bragging that it's because she's better than everyone else. It isn't. It's because she is really, really bad, and so she needs extra help. Seriously, I can't emphasize enough that she tells everyone she meets she's a professional singer when she can't make it through Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on tune.

Still, she's nice enough outside of this fact and wasn't directly hurting anyone, so I never said anything. Until the auditions for the school play came up. We're doing Grease. I auditioned for Sandy (the lead girl) and so did Leah. I didn't get Sandy, but I got Rizzo. Leah didn't get anything.

Since she found out she didn't get any role at all Leah has been incredibly bitter and mean. She keeps saying how unfair it is, how she's so much better than us, how the teacher knows she's better and is just holding her back because he obviously plays favorites. Still, I tried to ignore her. But then she said that I in particular only got in my a capella group only because I flirt with every guy who looks my way, and I do that because I know I don't have her natural talent.

I admit, this is where I might be TA: I went off on her. I told her she couldn't carry a tune in a bucket and might be able to see that if she got her head out of her own ass a second. I told her everyone in class knew she sucked, and if anything was unfair it was that everyone had to work harder just to cover up for how bad she sounded.

Since I went off on her Leah has been avoiding me in school and blocked me on social media, and I've heard she's telling people what a bitch I am. A few of our friends say I shouldn't have gone off on her like that, and I agree I probably went too far, but I feel at least a little justified?

What are these acronyms?