voilate

[voilate]

An Eye for Snow (tbosas)

Pairings: Sejanus Plinth x Fem!Reader x Coriolanus Snow?

Summary: When Magnolia Hawthorne gets herself mixed up in the Rebel, Capital crossfire to protect her close friend Sejanus, how will she navigate the already strenuous situation alongside Coriolanus Snow? (7.3k)

⚠️: Death, Explosions, Mentions of Abuse, Fighting, Minimal Swearing, Arguing

The marble floor is icy cold, sending goosebumps up my bare legs. I curse myself for wearing a skirt before realizing that I’d prefer my choice of clothing soon enough, amidst the sweltering temperatures I’m soon to face during my walk to the Arena.

“Thank you so much,” I grin guiltily at Tigris, removing the steaming bowl of cabbage soup from her warm hands. A rather gross reoccurrence of a meal that is often prepared in the Snow house, but it’s better than no meal, and who am I to judge someone who can feed me?

My stomach grumbles at the remembrance of the large meal that was provided on the day of the reaping. It was almost impossible to not stuff myself full the second I was seated, and I now regret not taking some food home with me.

It was Coriolanus himself who forbid me from doing it, though I could tell he wanted to just as badly.

“Please.” She laughs, “You have got to stop emphasizing your thanks when you’re practically a member of this household. I would take as much joy in starving you as I would Coryo.”

“Starving me?” Coriolanus enters the living area as he adjusts his coat.

“I wouldn’t starve either of you.” She smiles, “Though, one mentor seems far more grateful for my cooking than the other.”

She teasingly pats his shoulder as he passes her by without recognition, which results in a defeated look plastered on her face.

“Alright well, you two better get going unless you want to be late for,” She pauses, “What is it that you guys are doing again?”

Coriolanus opens the front door, holding it there and looking back as if anticipating my arrival.

“Taking our tributes to the arena.” I tell her, jumping to my feet and placing my barely touched soup back into her hands, “Have you or Grandma’am eaten today?”

“We will.” She smiles softly. “Now go!”

I follow after Coriolanus, grabbing the rims of my skirt and curtsying dramatically after he shuts the door behind us.

He rolls his eyes, “Must you be so polite?”

“In what other way would I find pleasure in spiting you?” I tease, wrapping my arm around his extended invitation as we walk. “Did you remember her food?”

“Of course. Did you remember yours?”

“Of course.” I echo with a sigh, “Not that she’ll even take it. Hasn’t learned to trust me like your Lucy Gray trusts you.”

I eye him as he suppresses a smile and as if alluding to something else, note, “You mustn’t pretend to be someone else around me, you know.”

“And you mustn’t use such proper dialogue in the presence of I.” He mocks. “Isn’t it exhausting?”

“And how do you know this isn’t how I naturally speak?”

“I watch you calculate each word before you vocalize it.”

“Your claim reminds me of yourself.” His brow furrows, “I always know when you are about to speak publicly based on how much attention you pay to a conversation. How deep you are into wondering when the appropriate time to weigh in is, and what the exact words are. Isn’t that exhausting?”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Sejanus.” He chuckles.

“I’ve been spending too much time with you. Anyone could see it if they had the eye to.”

“Not everyone has the eye.”

“That they don’t.”

The newfound melancholy of the atmosphere deflates just as quickly as it arose. Silence replaces our lighthearted conversation.

I examine his distant expression, what is he thinking about? I’ve found myself wondering that a lot since the Hunger Games began, his constant empty gaze that suggests he’s here with you when his mind is elsewhere.

I open my mouth to comment on the heat, but his inhale slams my mouth shut.

“Any encounters with your father lately?”

Really? That’s what he was thinking about?

“Thankfully no.” I peer away, gazing out into the city that surrounds us as I pull my arm from his grasp, crossing both of my own over my chest. “Not since that night.”

He nods, digesting the newfound information before returning to his distant safe space. I can tell that wasn’t the only question on his mind but know he won’t dare ask another one. What does he think he’ll be taken as if he does? Inquisitive? Whatever the case, I drop it completely and pay my utmost attention to the anxiety that has been bundled in the pits of my stomach all morning. I make it a point to fully look away from Coriolanus as I allow the worries to take over my mind. Even the slightest scent of suspicion will turn him into a dog on our trail. Sejanus doesn’t understand that Coryo is all-knowing and that years of constant manipulation have granted him the ultimate access to everyone else’s deceits. He will undoubtedly find out sooner or later.

“Let’s hope it’s later rather than sooner.” Sejanus had half-heartedly joked, though I could tell he was just as nervous about the plan as I. Part of me wanted to tell Coriolanus. Fall onto my knees and confide in him how I had all those years ago. I want to explain that I have to help Sejanus otherwise he’ll get himself caught and hung. I used to find such warmth within Coryo, he gifted me a security that no one else could provide. Three years ago I would’ve never kept such a dire secret from him, but now? I’m not the same girl he rescued from an abusive, alcoholic father. I’m not the same girl he shielded from rumors after my moving in with him and I’m certainly not the same girl who cried tears of joy after the Rebels had been defeated.

I am a rebel now. At least in the eyes of the capital I am. I have one foot stuck in the mud of the rebel life, and the rest of me is still clinging to any Capital advantages I may be granted. The dirt on my shoe is a crime worth a rope in the sky, or worse. I sometimes recall the very last hangings that I witnessed, when the Rebels that had infiltrated the Capital were caught, and very cruelly charged. My stomach churns and I become queasy at the realization of the stark difference between my feelings towards their punishment then, and now.

I had to fight to maintain my scholarly reputation after all the ruckus about my situation broke out. I’m too afraid to disclose any information about my wanting to remain a virtuous capital student to Sejanus, who had originally begged me to keep away from the mess he had made of things. Now I’m entangled and can’t escape without risking either of our lives. The only person who could help me even begin to unravel this mess is a boy who could report me to Dr. Gaul without a second glance. I’m as good as a traitor no matter who catches me. Would Sejanus get himself killed? How far is Coriolanus willing to go for prosperity? He’s not the same boy either. He’s softer, and more understanding than he was before, all thanks to his little songbird, but I don’t think he would let me get away with this, even now.

“Everything alright?” His voice startles me back to the Capital Streets.

“Oh-“ I fumble, “Just thinking.”

“Enlighten me.”

An open invitation to admit to all of my wrongdoings, my mistakes. Maybe if I come clean I will be spared. I won’t be considered a rebel sympathizer, not just that, a rebel!

“I-“ I begin, but pause as my feet meet the entrance of the Arena. “Just my father.”

“Ah.” He nods as if understanding. “Well try to forget about that nonsense for right now, you have a tribute to attend to.”

I depart with a soft smile, leaving him at the rear of the line formed of tributes and mentors to fill the empty gap left next to Sabyn.

“Let’s go.” A peacekeeper orders, hoisting the bars above his head to allow us to file in.

Immediately our line diminishes into a clump, Sejanus and his tribute falling back to stand by my side as others just try to fill the small space. We take turns putting our assigned coin into the slot and stepping through the turnstiles, each being greeted with the same stimulating, “Enjoy the show!” I have to use my left hand to steady the trembling of my right as I attempt to fit the shaking coin through the compact hole. Finally, it falls in and clinks as it hits the bottom, signaling that I may walk through.

“Enjoy the show!”

I curl my hands into fists in a desperate attempt to stop the shaking that instantly flags me as guilty.

Don’t look scared.

I remind myself.

Don’t become a suspect.

“Enjoy the show!” Sejanus slips behind me, covertly situating his hand into mine. He brushes his thumb over the temple of my hand, soothing it to a light tremble.

I peer up at him expecting to exchange a look but he blankly stares off into the distance as if simply awaiting the arrival of the remainder of our group. I quickly avert my eyes to the Arena, which will soon be destroyed, hopefully to the extreme of canceling the Hunger Games which will send Marcus, Sabyn, and all the rest of the tributes home safely.

Suddenly that word swings back at me, whacking my newfound confidence like a lethal boomerang.

Safely?

Did the rebels ever ensure the safety of the people inside the arena? They wanted bombs placed inside, which Sejanus and I very hesitantly assisted with, but for what purpose? To hit the Capital right where it hurts, the Hunger Games. They desired the cancelation of the games, but not for the safety of the tributes, for the incitement of the Capital. To irritate them.

The words feel like toxins, threatening to bubble up and verbalize in the form of vomit.

“Ow-“ Sejanus grunts softly, forcefully pulling his hand from my harsh grasp. “Are you okay?”

“I-“ I breathe before seeing his eyes dart towards the microphone that hangs on the wall just 10 feet away from us. Has it been activated? Would it pick up my words? I swallow down any audible form of my concerns and simply verbalize, “Just surreal is all. Haven’t seen this place in person since the war.” Though my eyes illustrate all structures of my distress.

Will they die? Will we die? Will all of this anxiety-induced effort serve us no purpose? All of this, just for the mere annoyance of the Capitol?

A sad smile of recognition crosses his face. He understands. He doesn’t showcase more than a wince but I know he understands.

“Enjoy the Show!”

“All right huddle up.” The peacekeeper orders, “You get 20 minutes, that’s it! Explore, look around, get used to the place, because soon enough you’ll be living in it.” He pauses seemingly expecting us to act, “Move!”

“Where should we look?” I signal to Sejanus, wondering where the safest spot might be.

“Let’s check out the center.”

“The center?” Marcus scoffs, “What’s the point in looking around? There’s no place to hide and no escape, you can practically see everything from this spot right here!”

My eyes peer to below the microphone where I know a bomb is planted far too close to us.

“You’ll get a much better view from the center,” Sejanus begins towards it, “Come on.”

With a reluctant roll of his eyes, Marcus and Sabyn follow behind him, both trying to pretend as though their gazes aren’t exploring the arena far better from this perspective.

Strategy is hard to talk about when you know there won’t be an arena for the strategy to take place in anyways, but I can tell they both expect some ounce of advice.

“Here,” I whisper, conscientiously digging into my pockets and pulling out the slice of ham I was able to salvage from lunch at the Academy yesterday. “I’m sorry it was all I could-“ She snatches it and stuffs it into her own pockets, a small smile breaching my lips.

Suddenly a violent detonation shakes the ground and rings through my ears. I fall to the floor, covered by my arms as well as Sejanus’. Another burst sounds on the opposite side of the large room, still shaking where we helplessly lay. Then another and another until eruptions are blowing all around the edges of the arena, sending winds of rubble throughout the air.

My head lays on the ground with Sejanus buried into my shoulder. I can’t see much of anything occurring but the blood-curdling sounds are enough to know that I was right. Safety was of no priority to the Rebels.

My sobs shake the entirety of my body as the endless amounts of explosions finally halt, only heightening the shrieks produced by my classmates and their tributes. Gunshots fire close by, shrinking me deeper into the ground.

“Help!” A distinct voice calls out. “Somebody help!”

I quickly pull from Sejanus’ grasp, jumping to my feet to help Coryo, who must be in serious trouble if he risks the vulnerability that crying for help requires.

“Come on!” Sejanus grabs my hand, now on his feet as he ushers me towards the exit that is in the opposite direction of Coriolanus’ cries. When he can’t seem to pull hard enough, I’m suddenly scooped from the floor, and tossed over his shoulder, as he rushes towards the doorway just as another explosion sounds and a fiery beam comes crashing down in the spot we once stood. I can’t see Coriolanus through the smoke and instantly burst into tears, jumping from Sejanus’ arms.

“Coriolanus!” I shout to the peacekeeper who’s just thrown Livia Cardew onto the dirt floor, “Coriolanus is in there! So is Lucy Gray!”

He shares an annoyed glance with another Peacekeeper before they both reluctantly run in after them.

Sejanus entangles me in a tight embrace as his chest heaves up and down. His silent sobs crush my heart as I rub my hand over his back. All he wants is to help people, and this is what we’ve done.

“Sejanus-“ My voice breaks. I try to comfort him. I want to explain that this isn’t our fault, that we could’ve never predicted what would’ve happened, but the lie I almost vocalize forces even worse cries from the pits of my stomach, and I can’t find the space to speak in between the sobs and quick breathes I attempt to take. This is entirely our fault.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“He’s gonna miss Lucy Gray’s interview,” I note, standing to watch as Caesar Flickerman introduces his songbird.

Tigris and Grandma’am follow close behind me.

“Well let me quit my jabbering and introduce the real star of the show. Lucy Gray Baird!”

I watch as the beautiful girl, in her newly cleaned rainbow dress approaches the microphone. For a split second, she looks nervous, but in an instant, the anxiety fades into confidence. She slips her hair behind her ear, smiling and waving to the crowd as if it were just another performance back in 12. Coriolanus should be up there with her, but instead, he’s here with us, hospitalized and asleep, in the same state he’s been confined to since the bombing 3 days ago.

“Own it,” I whisper, recalling the advice that she had given to Coryo the day he got locked in the monkey cage along with the rest of the tributes.

“Oh, she will.” Tigris smiles, “How could she not while wearing a clean dress like that!”

Lucy Gray had entrusted Tigris with the duty of tidying up the special dress she had worn since Reaping Day. It does look beautiful, and I can’t help but grin at the proud arrogance that Tigris finally possesses.

“When I was a babe I fell down in the holler

When I was a girl I fell into your arms. We fell on hard times and we lost our bright color.

You went to the dogs and I lived by my charms. I danced for my dinner, spread kisses like honey. You stole and you gambled and I said you should. We sang for our suppers and we drank up our money.

Then one day you left, saying I was no good

Well, all right, I'm bad, but then, you're no prize either. All right, I'm bad, but then, that's nothing new. You say you won't love me, well I won't love you neither.

Just let me remind you who I am to you

'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping. And I am the one who knows how you were brave. And I am the one who knows what you said sleeping, I'll take that and more when I go to my grave.

It's sooner than later that I'm six feet under It's sooner than later that you'll be alone. So who will you turn to tomorrow, I wonder, For when the bell rings, lover, you're on your own

For when the bell rings, lover, you're on your own I am the one who you let see you weeping I know the soul that you struggle to save.

Too bad I'm the bet that you lost in the reaping. Now what will you do when I go to my grave?”

As Lucy Gray finishes the song everyone had hoped she would sing, tears fill the eyes of each person in the emergency room, including my own.

“That was… beautiful.” Tigris sniffles.

“Lucy Gray surely knows how to put on a show.”

“Coryo!” I gasp, jumping into his arms as he stumbles, almost falling back onto the floor before stabling himself and embracing me with mirrored passion. Though, he could never begin to understand how grateful I am that he’s awake. There would not be a moment during the remainder of my miserable life that I would forgive myself or Sejanus for getting him killed.

“I-“ I begin, my eyes swelling with tears, “Thank you for waking up.”

“It was the least I could do,” He laughs weakly. I finally gain the courage to release him to allow Tigris and the Grandma’am to cherish his awakening.

I turn to face the television screen again, closing my eyes and exhaling the deepest sigh of relief.

I have to come clean. I have to tell Coriolanus about what Sejanus and I did, and what he intends on continuing to do. I haven’t decided whether or not I could bear to resume helping the rebels after what they did, or almost did, to Coryo, but admitting my crimes to him will be the last and final declaration that I am done.

After the pleasantries with his family cease, he places his arms around my neck and traps me in a tight embrace, a cheesy grin plastered on his face.

Oh, how that smile would have faded had he known how he got into this situation in the first place. But for now, I just gratefully accept it, leaning my head onto the side of his, and wrapping my arms around the ones he holds below my neck.

“I heard you sent the peacekeepers after me.”

“And I heard Lucy Gray rescued you from beneath a fiery beam,” I smirk, raising my brows. “I suppose we’re both hearing things.”

“Suppose so.”

His gaze lingers on mine, or rather mine on his. I’ve never been so thankful to see those annoyingly piercing blue eyes and perfect locks of blonde hair. “Can you guys give us a moment?” I turn back to Tigris, who nods with a smile and immediately grabs the Grandma’am’s hand, both of them taking their leave. “So,” I smile anxiously, untangling his hands from my body and moving to sit in the same waiting chair I’ve sat in for the past 48 hours.

“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know how to say this-“ My words tremble, threatening to collapse at any moment.

“Are you alright?” He quickly takes a seat on his hospital bed, truly interested in whatever I may say next. I can visibly see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to piece together what I’ll say next before I’m granted the words to say it.

I also, try to construct my next sentence before saying it aloud, not sure how to tell him it’s my fault he almost got killed. I don’t waste time apologizing and try my best to blink back the tears that now gloss my eyes. He doesn’t care about this performance I feel as though I’m putting on, I just-

“I think I’ve involved myself with the rebels,” I whisper, almost inaudible.

“You- what?”

“I know.” I correct, “I know I’ve involved myself with the rebels. I-“ Tears descend my cheeks, but I ignore their presence, as does Coriolanus, “I put the bombs in the area.”

He stared at me, eyes wide in confusion.

“You?”

“I wanted to tell you this morning,” I whimper, “That I regretted it, that I needed your help to fix my mistakes but I was so scared Coryo-“

“No-“ He stands, backing away from me. “You can’t- you shouldn’t have- do you understand the position you’ve just trapped me in?” His voice slightly raises before he registers the darted glances being sent toward himself, “You’ve involved me just as much as you’ve involved yourself by telling me this! What do you expect me to do? Report you?”

“No- Well- maybe that’s what I expected you to do but I hoped you wouldn’t!”

“And Sejanus?” He orders, “I’m sure your little vitiated district boyfriend is the one who dragged you into this mess?”

As much as I would like to blame anyone but myself in this moment of vulnerability, I can’t.

“He was the one who begged me to stay out of it,” I mutter, eyes peering to the floor.

“Why-“

“Shhh!” A nearby nurse shushed, uses a single remote to collectively heighten the volume of all five televisions in the room.

“And one last message before we let you all go for the night!” Caesar Flickerman announces gleefully, he touches his earpiece to hear for himself what the announcement may be. His eyes widen with shock, and then fade to melancholy. “Well folks, I’ve just been given word that the 10th annual Hunger Games will still be commencing! In two days, don’t miss it! Thank you all and have a-“

The world around me fades into a blur as my heart sinks to the deepest pits of my stomach. If I had eaten anything more than a few sips of cabbage soup today, I’m sure I would vomit it up at this very moment. I struggle to find air to inhale before the confidence of Coriolanus’ claim snaps me back to reality.

“I presume that’s why you did it? To stop the games?”

“That’s why I did it, yes,” I state blankly.

“But not them?”

“They wanted to irritate the Capital.”

“Us.” He corrects bitterly, “We are the Capital, Lia, they wanted to irritate us, don’t let yourself forget it.”

“It all seems so pointless, now. To irritate the capital, to almost lose you, to become a traitor, for what? For my tribute to be dead, Marcus to be missing, and the games to continue?”

“What?”

“I’ll see you at home, Coriolanus.” I push myself out of my chair, leaving him alone in the dullness of the hospital room.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I wipe my tear-filled eyes, though I’m sure the red and puffiness of them is not concealable.

“You should’ve known better.” Coriolanus reprimands for the tenth time this morning. I desperately long for our walk to the Academy together, where we’ll be in public and he can’t shame me any longer. “I mean really, what were you thinking?”

“That I could make a difference, Coryo. Is that so hard to digest?”

“You need to stay away from Sejanus. He’s filling your mind with these fantasies! That’s all they are!” He slams his bag down on the kitchen counter, stuffing it full of the few snacks he was able to collect for Lucy Gray, “You think that these creatures are like us and they’re not. They are district, you are Capital!”

“We’re people! Is Lucy Gray a creature? I see how you look at her Coriolanus. How your gaze lingers on her from across the room. You’re the creature! You’re a venomous snake who’s going to squeeze the life out of that poor songbird and I’m not going to be around to see it!”

“You almost got me killed, Magnolia.” He shouts. “And I’m the creature?”

“You’re going to wake the others up.” I deflect, knowing Tigris didn’t get much sleep last night. She hasn’t slept since the bombing, too worried for Coryo. Of course, he doesn’t give a damn about her or anyone else who has the displeasure of knowing him.

“You know what? You’re right!” He exclaims, refusing to change the subject, “You won’t be around to see it, and neither will Sejanus. If neither of you can follow a simple set of instructions or at least pretend to carry the ideology the Capital requires of you then you’ll be hung for your rebel crimes!”

“Coriolanus!” Tigris reprimands, rushing into the room just as he slams the front door behind himself.

I crumble to the floor, burying my head into my bruised knees.

“Oh, Magnolia,” Tigris comforts. She wraps her arms around me in a warm hug, brushing her fingers through my hair as I cry into her shoulder, “He would never report you to anyone for anything. I don’t know what it is that you guys are bickering about but everything shall pass with time. I promise.”

Her quiet assurances and physical touch have transformed my muffled sobs into soft gasps for air that come in waves. She releases me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and kissing the top of my head. “I’m off to work, love, but please don’t take Coryo’s empty threats seriously. He would report you just as soon as reporting me, or Grandma’am.

She grabs her purse and quickly rushes out of the door as if she were not half an hour late to work because of me.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The chill of the fresh morning air has turned the apartment damp, the humidity causing me to sweat due to our broken ventilation system.

I pick myself up from the floor, dragging my feet to the miraculously functioning phone that hangs next to the doorway that connects the kitchen and living room.

Today is the mentors' last day with their tributes before they’re thrown into the Arena and forced to become the creatures everyone believes them to be. The only people who have no purpose of reporting to the Academy are Androcles, Guis Breen, Sejanus, and myself, since all of our tributes were killed before the games even started, so I expect they should all be home.

I dial the number Sejanus had me memorize the second he let me involve myself with the Rebels and await the ringing to stop.

“Hello?” A voice deeper than the one Sejanus possesses answers.

“Good..” I drag out, looking at my watch to decipher the time, “Afternoon, Mr Plinth! Is Sejanus home?”

“Sejanus!” He shouts as footsteps patter to the phone, “Here he is.”

“Maggy?” My heart warms, the nickname my mother used to refer to me serving like morphing to the pain. The only time I ever hear the name anymore is in the presence of Sejanus, every other Capital student refusing to call me it. Even Coryo claims that it sounded too district, resulting in my new, more widely used nickname, Lia.

“Sejanus,” I smile, feeling like I’ve been granted a breath of fresh air just through the sound of his voice. I don’t want to spoil the rare happiness and can’t talk about the rebels through our likely monitored phone conversations anyway, “Please come over?”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

The line disconnects and I move to the front door that he meets me at less than ten minutes later. He doesn’t live very close to us, but his car of the latest Capital technology allows him to travel at the highest of speeds, making it here in record-breaking time.

When his knock sounds at the door, I realize that he’s never been inside the Snow apartment before, and wonder if I’m crossing the simplest of lines by having him over.

I shake the thoughts from my head, opening the door and allowing him inside with very little confidence.

“Hey,” He smiles, wrapping his arms around me before closing the door with his leg and following my lead to the living room.

“Maybe we should meet at your house from this point on,” I suggest, shifting uncomfortably as he takes a seat on the cold marble ground next to me. Not a single piece of furniture decorates this bland space except for the TV sitting on a run-down coffee table. Almost all of it was gone upon my arrival, Tigris explaining that it all had to be either sold or thrown into their fireplace amidst the war just to grant them the barest of food and warmth.

“The war hit us, or- them pretty harshly.” He nods considerately, seemingly paying no attention to the interior of the room. “What’s wrong?”

“I just- feel awful.” He sighs, hiding his face in his hands, “Both of our tributes are as good as dead, the Ring twins are in the hospital, we almost killed Coriolanus, and for what? For the games to continue anyways?”

“I know.” I adjust my body to be leaning against the side of his as he slips his hand into mine. I debate whether or not I should tell him about my quarrel with Coriolanus this morning, in turn, admitting to having revealed our part in the Rebel bombing, risking both of our deaths.

“Are you alright?” Sejanus’ gaze lingers on my tear-stained face, his thumb rising to caress my puffy undereyes.

“I just didn’t take the news well, is all.”

“Me neither, it’s just sickening! I barely got any sleep last night, couldn’t close my eyes without picturing Sabyn’s warm lifeless body. The peacekeepers cared more about shooting her dead than helping to keep others alive! And then Marcus! Condemned to a life of torture should he be caught.”

“He won’t be.”

“He will be. He has nowhere to go, no place to hide, and thousands of people on the lookout for him every day. I just hope his death is quick.”

The mood of the room falls flat, neither of us knowing how to recover from such a dim topic so quickly, so neither of us does. Instead, I give in to the heftiness of my eyelids, allowing myself to gain full support from Sejanus’ body as he rests himself against the wall behind us.

He buries his hand in my full head of hair, massaging the migraine he didn’t even know existed until my eyes can’t keep themselves open any longer.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I startle at the sound of a door slamming shut, barely catching a glimpse of Coriolanus’ hefty blonde curls swooshing from the harsh swing of the door.

I shake Sejanus, who leans against the wall with his head angled up and an arm wrapped protectively around my body.

“Hey- I’m sorry to wake you but I’ll be right back, okay?” I jump to my feet, already starting towards the door, “I’ve gotta- I’ll be right back.”

What time is it?

Through the windows I swiftly pass by, I examine how the sun begins to set over the horizon, estimating how much of the shining circle still soars above the skyline. I approximate it’s about 5 o’clock. meaning we slept for 3 hours.

“Coryo!” I call, catching sight of him shooting down the complex stairs. “Coryo please wait!” How was he off mentor duty so early? I didn’t expect him to arrive back home until at least nine. Not that my unconscious body would’ve known the difference between now and then, but still, it could’ve bought me some time.

Mere inches away from his escape, Coriolanus gets stopped by an older woman, and panting from his long walk he bends down to pick something up that she seems to have dropped.

“Thank you, son.” She breathes feebly as he hands the magazine showcasing Lucy Gray’s face back to her.

“Coriolanus.” I wheeze, “You almost forgot about me!”

“Oh, you too have fun.” The woman knowingly smiles, retreating to her room before we can allow ourselves to speak freely.

“I’m sorry it’s not-“

I slightly anticipate him to make a run for it, but instead, he just extends his arm, willing me to wrap mine around it, and continues walking through the front doors of the apartment complex, leaving me utterly speechless.

“What was Sejanus Plinth doing inside of the Snow house?”

I begin to plead my case, before truly wondering, what was Sejanus doing? All we had done was confide in each other over our guilty consciencees. Why had I called him in the first place? Knowing the solemnity of our situation, I feel rather dull for allowing him over and realize that I really should’ve listened to Coriolanus.

I watch the gears behind his eyes, turning as he plans out his entire stance in this difficult situation. Will he report me? Will he cause a scene? How will he protect himself from my rebellious mistakes?

Suddenly, I realize how Coriolanus constantly finds himself in such a wide pool of success.

“I want to report him,” I mutter, peering over my shoulder to make sure nobody’s listening to us. He eyes me conspicuously. “There’s nothing to trace his crimes back to me. Not a phone call, not an item, nothing. Only his word against mine.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, a glimpse of hope glimmering in his eyes.

“I’m sure. And if the Capital discovers my part in the bombing,” I pause, bracing myself, “I’ll be hung and that will be that.”

The statement itself sends shivers down my spine, threatening to turn my legs into jello, I won’t allow that to happen. Nor will I let them hang Sejanus. He’s never belonged in this district and he’s helped me realize that neither do I. I’ll come with Coriolanus to report Sejanus on my terms, hopefully buying us enough time to escape this hell before they can tie his noose.

“What caused this sudden change of heart?”

“I realized in my time spent with him today, that not only is he a danger to our home, but he’s a danger to me as well. I never meant to get involved as much as I did and can’t continue to risk my entire being just to help him any longer. He’s chosen his life.”

Coriolanus nods approvingly. “All these years, he’s longed for us to forget where he came from. Wanted us to pretend he was one of us, and it wasn’t to spite him that we couldn’t. It was his attitude that didn’t allow us to see past him being district.” I smile in genuine agreement, reminiscing on my absolute favorite trait that Sejanus possesses, and find myself almost envious. Sejanus never let the Capital ruin him.

“Well, not everyone can live up to Capital standards. Most capital born won’t ever amount to us.”

He chuckles, the security of having Coriolanus by my side numbing the previous helpless feeling.

“I’ll tell Dr Gaul everything I know and pray she takes my information for what it is, and nothing more. Sejanus will be hung, and he will die, along with the troubles he poisons our lives with.”

“So you blame him entirely for your little rebellion phase?”

“Well, I believe everyone has to dip their foot into the other puddle before you truly stop wondering if it’s clearer, Sejanus just helped to mud the dirt.”

I almost feel guilty for talking about Sejanus in this manner, though I speak in gallons of truth, hiding drops of lies amongst them. Coryo isn’t stupid he’s one of the brightest people I know, emotionally and intelligently. Something inside of him just knows things, and a full lie can’t deceive him, but an almost truth might. I do believe that you’ll never stop longing for rebellion until you try it for yourself, but what I don’t tell Coriolanus, is that I also believe that sometimes you might find that the puddle in question is clearer. A clearer, bigger, better, more humane puddle that can save you from everything that burdens you in life may just be waiting for you to dip your foot in, and when you do you’ll never rid of the dirt.

So yes, though Sejanus is to fault for my rebellion phase, and I blame him entirely, I owe him nothing short of my life for it.

The sun is no longer brightening the sky by the time we reach the citadel. I wonder if Doctor Gaul will even be here so late in the night, but Coryo seems certain she will be.

“We’d like to speak with Doctor Gaul.” He tells the peacekeeper guarding the elevator, “It’s urgent.”

The peacekeeper touches the side of his head, seemingly listening in to orders from his earpiece.

“Go ahead. Level -10.” He scans his card and the elevator dings open, inviting us inside. As soon as we’ve both stepped through the door, it slams shut and plummets down, hitting our destination in under ten seconds flat.

“Are you alright?” Coriolanus assures, slightly winded himself.

“Yeah.”

We step into the overbearingly white laboratory, passing cages filled with different failed Capital mutations. I stand as close to the center of the aisle as I can, avoiding a personal view of the enclosures as I brush against Coriolanus’s protective build.

“Pitter patter, the blood goes splatter, and a rebel fought war will be lost i’m….” She trails off.

“Sure.” Coriolanus finishes, “Will be lost, I’m sure.”

She turns to face us from her platform, clapping delightedly. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Does she know why we’ve come? Or is it just an ordinary day in the laboratory when she makes up unnerving Rebel rhymes?

“What for?” I inquire, confidently.

“Coriolanus owes me a paper.”

I turn to him and he nods as if in remembrance, “Yes, I do, though that’s not why we’ve decided to visit.”

“Then what’s the cause?”

He falls back, signaling for me to take full control of the situation, something he doesn’t offer up very often.

“You’re familiar with the mentor, and student, Sejanus Plinth, are you not?”

“I am.”

“Well, I deeply regret to inform you that he’s been,” I falter, unable to phrase my accusation, “dealing with rebels.”

“Oh?” She grins viciously, descending the steps of her platform and approaching Coriolanus and me.

“I know not entirely of his Rebel associations, but am certain that he aided them in the planting of bombs in the arena.”

Her piercing green eyes inspect every aspect of my face, searching for a hint of what emotion I must be feeling.

After a long moment, she finally declares, “We had our suspicions. Though, it is improbable that he was working alone. Are you informed of any other rebels hidden amongst the Capital?”

“No ma’am.”

“Coriolanus?”

“Hadn’t a clue that rebels were still amid the Capital until today.” He almost truths.

“Well, you must’ve assumed.”

“I could’ve.” He considers, “Though it entirely slipped my mind.”

“Well,” She smiles, “Thank you for your confirmation. Your sacrifice means a great deal to your Capital, and I hope you will inform us of any information you may come across in the future.”

“Of course,” I return warmly, “Good night, Dr Gaul.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Our walk back home was too silent, almost eerily. We had barely made it back to the apartment when a storm of peacekeepers rushed past and I remembered the vulnerable state that I left Sejanus in. Half asleep, and in my own home without a single advance on what I was planning.

What if they already found him? What if his noose is being tied as we speak? What if-

“Everything alright?” Coriolanus incredulously pesters.

“Yep.”

That is all I can manage. Something feels very wrong. An anxiety-induced hole bubbles in the pits of my stomach as I try to maintain my composure. Coriolanus can’t know that I’m worried about Sejanus… or maybe I could play into that role. An innocent friend who knows she’s done the right thing but still can’t seem to digest the gravity of the situation. Will he think me weak? Will he believe a word I say?

I consider the performance I may execute, before realizing how similar to Coriolanus I feel in this very moment. Calculating, gears turning, trying to analyze every piece of my affairs while simultaneously attempting to feed the impression of innocence.

Is Coriolanus performing? Pretending to believe and support every lie I present him with just to double back at the last second? Or does he have no concept of the truth behind my motives?

I liven my pace, acting as though out of pure interest though really in concern for Sejanus’ well-being, and desire to escape the constant agonizing burden that is Coriolanus Snow.

I hear his feet patter behind me, the tempo of his steps quickening as mine accelerate. He’s chasing me. He knows. He knows that I never intended on allowing Sejanus to be hung for his- our crimes, and he doesn’t intend on his life being spared.

I’m full-fledged sprinting now, desperately dodging people as well as random rubble that lines the streets. Am I trying to save Sejanus or escape Coryo? Either way, I don’t relent, darting through the electric doors of our apartment complex and shooting up the stairs. He’s on my tail, a mere arm's length away as I shove into the Snow household and startle awake.

I lay strapped to a hospital bed in the overly white laboratory room. Blinking in owlish incomprehension, I slightly tilt my head as much as the big machine attached to it will permit, and squint my eyes to make out an unconscious Sejanus, the top of his scalp removed entirely from his head as a machine scans his brain.

My head pounds and the blinding lights force my eyes shut, i’m left blind as hands prod at different pieces of my limbs.

I squirm disobediently in my best attempts to be free of the shackles I’ve worn for the past 3 days. For a mere moment the memories come flooding back as tears descend my cheeks.

The night that Sejanus and I had chosen to plant bombs in the arena, had coincidentally been the same night Coriolanus had wanted to sneak in for himself, in search of good hiding places for Lucy Gray. None of which existed until the bombs went off- except they never did. Coriolanus turned on us before anyone else had ever unsafely entered the place.

I recall seeing the gears turning in his mind as he toyed with the though of giving us a second chance, but he never did like how personal my relations were with him. How familiar I was with his way of thought, or how close I was to discovering his genuine self.

Now they spend their days testing our brains, digging through our memories, warping them for research, trying to find the rebels who gave us the bombs in the first place. But whoever granted them to us made sure they could never be traced. They knew we were likely to fail, it’s almost as if they willed it to happen.

A needle jabs through my shoulder, morphing soothing the headache that I felt only moments ago, as the world fades away along with the remembrance of Sejanus and I’s new reality.

Upon entering the room, I find an unconscious Sejanus, sleeping exactly where I left him, entirely oblivious to the tragedy that almost awaited us and exhale a sigh of relief.

[voilate]

The Choice

Pairings: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader x Draco Malfoy

Summary: Y/N is forced to decide between risking her own life or assisting in the murder of Harry Potter. She’s confident in her decision, until realizing the effects her choice will have on those she loves most.

Word Count: 2164

⚠️: Swearing, Mentions of Death

Harry coils my hair around his finger as I lay in his lap.

The orange illuminant from the fire place is just bright enough for me to make out the sparkles in his eyes that I’ve grown to appreciate so much. I stare into an endless void of love and compassion. A kind of feeling i’ve only ever been gifted from Harry.

What we have is good. It’s true and honest and genuine. Harry makes my life amazingly wonderful in more ways that I can count.

He’s changed me, and apparently I’ve done the same to him. Hermione swears that the only time his grimness fades is when i’m near. But ever since Cedric died, it’s like he’s escaped back into his darkness. A darkness that neither Sirius or I can dwindle.

“So,” He whispers, staring into my eyes with that soft smile I almost adore as much as his sparkle. My lips turn up. “What was keeping you so busy earlier?”

And just like that the melancholy fades. My eye contact breaks and smile disappears. Here we go. “Hm?”

“You, Hermione, Ron and I were all supposed to study in the library. Remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” I chuckle, “I just got lost in the the forest.”

“The forest.” He repeats non-believing. “The forest that you’ve navigated your way through for the past four years?” He watches me with furrowed brows. Already fuming. We both know that i’m lying. It wasn’t meant to be a believable story.

I nod.

“So you can honestly tell me you weren’t with Draco?”

“Well-“

He shifts as if purposefully trying to remove my head from the comfort of his lap.

“I was out there alone…” I trail. His wide eyes searching my expression for the end of my sentence. “at first!”

He quickly rises to his feet, watching me accusingly.

“At first?”

“Harry listen- “

“I can’t believe this!” He scoffs, marching to the boys dormitory.

I throw myself forward and follow after him “Harry, please- I didn’t intend on spending the afternoon with him, he just-“

“He just what, Y/N?” He turns, “Just makes you want to abandon your friends? Makes you want to abandon me?”

I reach for him as he begins to storm away but his wand is just as speedily pulled from his robe and pointed at my chest.

I speechlessly examine his extended arm that threatens my life. The sparkles in his eyes have diminished. I can hardly recognize him at all, but I’m sure he’s thinking the exact same thing about me. I’m positive that in his eyes I look like everyone else in this awful world who has betrayed and used and hurt him. The girl who gave him his first taste of happiness, but not anywhere close to his first taste of heartbreak.

I was supposed to be different. But I never was. I knew that and now I need Harry to as well.

“I-“ He begins shamefully before frustratedly stomping into his dorm and slamming the door shut. Any Gryffindor who was once asleep, definitely lie awake now.

I stand completely stunned. My hands shake and tears stream down my face as the argument replays over and over again in my head.

It’s for his own good, I tell myself.

It’s for my own good.

I’m honestly surprised it took him this long to break. I’ve been trying to manipulate a fight big enough for him to dispose of me once and for all for the longest time, I didn’t think this would be his final straw. Despite my intentions, I’m in a genuine state of shock. I’ve finally done it.

I love Harry, and I have for a very long time. What Harry and I have is different than any love I’ve ever shared with anybody else, but it wasn’t always that way.

Voldemort utilized me from a young age. Making me a Gryffindor to earn trust and do his little dirty deeds. I was meant to learn, lie, help, and report but as time went on, my missions grew so much larger, and exceedingly more important. Such a ginormous weight has fallen onto the shoulders of Draco and I, and such dire consequences will be met if we don’t complete what is required of us. But I can’t lie any longer. I’ve been doing it for the past four years and i’m done. I’ve held onto Harry for as long as I possibly can, but I refuse to be the reason he gets murdered by Voldemort, even if I have to risk my own life.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

My knock echoes through the empty hallway. Cobwebs decorate the long, dim room.

Blaise opens the door and music pours from inside. He’s laughing at somebody behind him, alcohol spilling from the plastic cup he holds in his left hand.

Not being granted any attention, I push through his arm that still rests on the door handle, almost causing him to lose his balance.

“Hey-“ He threatens, “Y/N?”

I easily make my way through the complicated ins and outs of the Slytherins Common room, Blaise trailing behind me. I’ve probably been here as many times as I’ve been to my own house’s common room.

“Where’s Draco?” I question, not stopping my search.

People hardly pay me any attention. It should be considered unusual for a Gryffindor to interrupt a Slytherins party, but everyone’s taken an understanding to mine and Draco’s complicated relationship. I’ve been in this same situation more times than I can count.

“He’s uh-“ He scratches the back of his neck, handing his cup off to someone else, “Now isn’t a good time, Y/N.”

“Why?” I question, storming up the stairs and opening the door to his own dormitory, interrupting Spencer Winfield making love to some third year. “Sorry,” I roll my eyes, slamming the door shut. It’s only now that I see Blaise’s face. It’s completely guilt ridden. I look back to the door that I’ve just closed. “Pansy?” I murmur, and he nods.

The harsh beat of the music shakes the large room that we stand in, and yet the silence is still uncomfortable. I don’t care that Draco is involved with Pansy, because we are not committed to one another by any means. However, we both know about our families intentions to pair us, two pure bloods with a respectable name, together when we’re older.

It hasn’t stopped me from loving Harry, why should it stop him from fucking Pansy?

My eyes peer to the dormitory Pansy sleeps in, and I begin making my way to it, using my wand to swing the door open before Blaise has the chance to stop me.

Pansy is butt ass naked, while Draco only has his pants off. Typical. He humiliates her by keeping her fully undressed to get the most out of his pleasurable experience, while not even having the curtesy to remove all of his own clothes. She’s either totally clueless, or totally desperate.

I stifle an ironic laugh and storm away from the door, down the stairs and out of the Slytherin common room. Draco will follow me.

I give Blaise the reaction he expects, but don’t feel how he suspects I do. I love Harry, and I love Draco, but not in the same way. I’ve gone through unspeakable traumas with Draco, we share a tattoo that binds us for life, and we’ve been through countless life or death situations, including one right now. I don’t care who Draco fucks.

The door clicks opens behind me and I quickly spin around to be met with Draco’s infamous raised brow. His face morphs into an expression of confusion, and then concern. “Trouble with Potter?”

“I guess you could say that.”

He smirks. “What’d I do this time?”

“Follow me into the forest.”

“And you came here because what- you’re mad at me?” He partially jokes, knowing It’s not his own fault.

“I came here because,” I pause, taking a deep breath and sighing in attempt to calm myself down. “I did it on purpose.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been starting fights with him. Making him jealous, abandoning plans, sparking arguments regularly, for no reason.”

He stares at me in confusion. He’s comforted me countless times in the past few months as I ranted on about mine and Harry’s new quarrel. Why would I put myself through that purposefully?

Tears heavily gloss my eyes, as multiple descend my cheek. “Harry and I are done for good. I ended things so…” I trail, gaining a confident front. “So I couldn’t be used to hurt the people I love any longer.”

A lightbulb goes off in his head. His breathing deepens and eyes narrow. “So instead of betraying Harry Potter, you’re going to betray one of the most powerful wizards in the world? The man who constantly reminds us how easily he could take our lives away?”

I nod, almost regretfully.

“Do you not understand what the fuck you’ve done? You have no purpose to him!”He throws his hands in the air, furiously turning away from me. “Thats what he’ll say right before he murders you in front of me. In front of your family!”

I stifle a sob, crumbling onto the floor and burying my face in my knees. “You couldn’t possibly understand.”

“Understand?” He yells, “You’re right, Y/N, I don’t fucking understand! Please explain to me why you would betray fucking-, “He cuts himself off, throwing his fist into a nearby wall and shouting in frustration. Even we’re too scared to speak his name. After a moment of silence, he rubs his hands over his face and takes a seat next to me.

“We’re dead.” He says blankly, staring at the wall ahead of us.

I wish he would speak again, but he doesn’t. Not for a long time. We sit in utter stillness for what feels like eternity.

Finally, he turns to me, and I mumble, “Im sorry, Draco. We didn’t choose this life but neither did Harry, I can’t let him suffer because of me.”

His eyes peer down to the floor, before he slowly rises and extends his arm to me. I watch him in confusion.

“We have to tell Snape.”

“Snape?” I jump up, “What for?”

“He can help us.”

“No he can’t- he’ll- he’ll tell him!”

“He won’t. And if he does, he was going to find out sooner or later.”

I open my mouth but have nothing to rebuttal. Draco’s right. But it doesn’t make getting berated any less difficult.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“You did what?” Snape shouts directly into my face. I extend my neck back as far as it will go while my body is confined to a chair.

He turns around and starts pacing while mumbling things to himself.

“You understand you’ve marked the lot of you for death don’t you?”

“But Harr-“ He slams his fist down, before slowing descending into his chair.

“Harry is a grown up problem, not something for a child to worry about.”

“But that’s not true!” I stand, “He is my problem, i’m the one sentencing him to death! I’m fifteen and forced to follow an evil, murderous wizard! I can’t do it!”

“He is not murderous nor evil and you shall never speak those words again!” Snape screams, freezing me. “You will go and make amends with Harry Potter or you will be killed. That is that.” I quickly wipe the tears away from my cheeks. He lowers his voice to a whisper. “Do you want Draco’s blood on your hands?”

He quickly opens a file and begins searching through the papers for something, clearly signaling me to leave. I sit stunned. I knew the risk I was taking by breaking things off with Harry. So blinded by not wanting him to get hurt, Draco’s life was a fleeting thought.

I slowly rise to my feet and assure my balance. I feel like i’m going to be sick. I open the door, and click it shut as Draco searches my dazed expression.

“You heard all of that, right?” I whisper, unable to meet his eyes. He didn’t hear everything. Does Draco know that we’re close to serving the same sentence?

“What are you gonna do?”

I stay silent for a moment, wondering myself.

“What else is there to do?” My voice breaks as I turn away from him. I allow my tears to fall, my heart to break, my walls to crack. I’m not strong, not now. I don’t know if I ever will feel strong again. How can I when I can’t even protect the people I most care about?

I half expected Draco to smirk at the news, but he doesn’t. His otherwise usually empty expression is now one of genuine sorrow. He doesn’t like Harry, never has. I wonder for a moment if he did hear what Snape said about him. But he didn’t. He feels bad for Harry. He feels bad for me.

I feel bad for him.

[voilate]

Countdown

Pairings: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: Y/N Stark allowed Quentin Beck to fill the hole that her father left following his devastating death. As the countdown ticks she is forced to either betray her boyfriend, Peter Parker, or her dead dad.

Word Count: 2254

⚠️: Kidnapping, Violence, Blood, Stress

My eyes begin fluttering open at the sound of machines clanking.

“Peter?” I drowsily groan as my vision unblurs. The room is dark and I can barely make out a few shadows that decorate my sight. I take notice of the restraints that tightly grip my stomach, arms, and legs, keeping me glued upright to a cold metal chair.

“Peter!” I gasp, suddenly regaining consciousness. I aggressively flail back and fourth in attempts to rip away from the shackles holding me in place. They grip me so tightly I can hardly begin to struggle before being met with a pressing pain.

“Peter!” The metal against my stomach digs deeply into my skin, making it hard to breathe.

The last thing I remember is walking in on Peter fighting Mr Beck. I didn’t know why they were fighting or what was happening, and had no time to figure it out before..

Suddenly I feel the agonizing pain of a pounding headache spewing through my skull as I recall a drone flying into me. I can’t remember much past that. Distant calls for help, faint screams of my name, and then waking up here are the only helpful details I can pull to the front of my mind.

I look around, desperately trying to adjust my eyes to the unlit room. I’m assuming Peter isn’t here, and i’m hoping I’m alone, which just leaves me to my thoughts.

After my dad passed, Mr Beck was so quick to step in as a parental figure, for both Peter and I. I’ve grown so attached to him so quickly, I can’t begin to imagine what could’ve sparked an argument between my two closet companions.

I close my eyes to help sort my thoughts, and tame the migraine that’s only grown larger from trying to focus in the dark.

Maybe Peter tried to take back the glasses he gifted to Mr Beck. I can faintly remember the details of him telling me he was starting to regret his decision. Everything he so briefly mentioned to me about the situation is a blur in the mess of my current state of mind.

I told him that I trusted Mr Beck, and that my dad would have too, but he was so frantic. I don’t know why I brushed him off so quickly.

I hear the clatter of a light object falling onto the ground, which startles my eyes back open.

“Am I alone?” I mutter lowly after an eerily pregnant pause.

I don’t know if I was expecting a response or not, but a shadowed figure slowly appearing from the dark, creeping into the low light that shines from a far away lamp, I can confidently say I was not prepared for.

“Hello?” I call, awaiting a response, “Peter?”

“He’s not here.” The voice grumbles. “He ran like a coward.”

The man whose voice I’m quite familiar with, steps forward, allowing the light to ever so slightly illuminate his facial features.

“Mr Beck?” I question, “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” He echoes, stifling a laugh, “What’s going on, is Peter betrayed me. And left you here to die.”

“What do you-“

“Just shut up!” He orders, and I slam my mouth shut. He quickly kneels on the ground in front of me, taking my shackled hands and looking into the depths of my eyes with intent.

He seems manic. Like he’s actually losing his mind. His eyes bulge in a way that screams danger. If I wasn’t restrained I would pull back, run away from his crazed state and find Peter, but for now I have to tough it out.

“I need your help.” He utters. “I need the code to your dad’s vault. The one on the 29th floor of Stark Industries.”

I bite my lip, confused as to what the hell is going on.

“I know he put his most valued things on that floor because it was a random number,” He continues, “Nobody would think to check any floors besides the top and the bottom. With 29 being the date of your birthday, it was a pretty simple code to crack.”

He pulls away, shaking his head after being met with my thoughtless eyes.

I know what he’s talking about. I know what secrets lie behind that vault, and I now realize what’s going on.

For years my dad warned me of all the enemies who would be out to get him. He told me stories of encounters from the past and predicted things that would happen in the future. My dad was no idiot, but it turns out I am. I curse myself for not seeing the signs sooner. The signs that Peter definitely caught onto, and literally spelled out for me. I don’t know why Mr Beck is doing this, and I don’t know how I fell for his lies, but I’ve been professionally trained by Iron Man for a situation like this.

Act dumb.

If I don’t know what he’s talking about, which would be highly plausible in a situation such as this one, there’s literally nothing he can try and force out of me.

Playing clueless is how I go home without a bruise on my body, and it’s the easiest game to play.

“Mr Beck,” I sigh, allowing my voice to break, “I don’t know what you’re-“

“Oh, save it.” He groans. “Did you really think I expected the daughter of stubborn ass Tony Stark to give in immediately?”

I stare at him blankly.

“No. I didn’t. I played the long game. I grew close with you and your boyfriend, stepping in at perfectly timed moments, waiting months, trying to work anything out of either of you, but to no avail, “He looks up as if recalling a memory, “and now we’re here. Tears begin to form in my eyes, and I pray they don’t fall. I trusted Mr Beck. I confided in him and let him fill the hole that my fathers death left behind just for his own selfish gain. “Do you really think, after months of planning, and even more months of pretending to give any shits about you and Peter, that I would throw it all away in an impulsive heat?” He chuckles. “Everything has been thoroughly thought out to the bone. So I ask you again,” I hear the clink of a knife being pulled from his belt. “What’s the code?”

I don’t look at his dagger. If I do, he’ll sense that i’m contemplating wether or not to tell him. But I don’t know anything, so there’s nothing to decide upon. I stare into his eyes, my vision blurred by my glossed pupils.

“I don’t know anything.”

Slowly, he lifts the tool to my face, pressing it against me cheek.

Part of me doesn’t believe he’ll actually do it. Like he somehow really does care for me. As if he’s being driven by a filthy greed that almost everyone has hidden deep down.

That was my first mistake.

He swiftly slashes across my cheek, leaving a stinging sensation and the trickling feeling of gushing blood.

“I know you think this will all work out. Like if you don’t tell me anything you’ll walk out of here alive, but you’re wrong. If you really have nothing to tell me, you no longer serve me any purpose, therefore I can kill you.”

Exasperating a sigh, I close my mouth stubbornly to symbolize the lack of information I’m willing to give, and look to the floor, which results in a quick slice of the knife.

I wince, trying not to think about the blood slipping down my neck and onto the tight lavender dress Peter had picked out for our date night.

“What’s the code to the vault?” He repeats.

“I don’t know.”

He grabs the collar of my dress, slowly dragging his knife all the way down to my thighs, leaving my body exposed and a long red liquid spewing where his knife opened my dress.

He looks up at me, clearly searching for a reaction that I don’t gift him. He angrily wraps his legs around my thighs, taking a seat on my lap. At an antagonizing pace, he begins dragging his knife from my eyebrow all the way down my nose and to my cheek.

Then down my arm repeatedly, as if solely in spite of me.

“Someone will come for me.” I spit the blood that had trickled onto my lips and into my mouth onto his already blood stained shirt. “Peter will find me.”

He chuckles, slowly rising to his feet and walking to a nearby table. “He left you.”

The tears that stream down my face and fall into my lap aren’t for the pain that he causes me, but for the memory of our relationship. The guilt that I feel after letting him replace my wonderful father. Dad would never stand by and let this happen, and I’m not going to either.

He fidgets with a few tools on the table before settling for a high tech remote. I hear the sound of a button being clicked before a projector lowers from the ceiling.

I stubbornly lift my sunken gaze to see what the screen is for. It goes static for few seconds, before flickering to a countdown screen.

“2 minutes and 30 seconds remaining.” A monotone voice reads.

“You see that?” He questions, “I know you’d do anything to protect the people you care about, including endure hours of torture. That part was just for my enjoyment.”

He motions to my cloth less body.

The screen shines brightly, illuminating the wide, cocky smile plastered on Mr Becks face, “If you fail to tell me what I want to know about your dads safe before the timer goes off, a video will broadcasts across every public television screen in new york city.” He pauses as if trying to build suspense. “A broadcast that will expose Spider-man’s identity.”

For a split second, my face falls, and his smile brightens.

“I-“ I stammer, looking at the screen in shock.

Is he bluffing? He has to be. But his face reads otherwise. He proudly stares up at the screen, almost as if he hopes I don’t give in so that his genius, perfectly executed plan can come to life.

“Two Minutes remaining.” The voice reads.

I think about Peter. My boyfriend. My best friend. I know Mr Beck is lying, and that Peter didn’t really leave me here, but Tony was my dad.

I close my eyes in remembrance of what I’ve lost. How my dad spent those years trying to bring Peter back, and got himself killed in the process. How I lost him long before he was really gone. All for Peter.

“What would he do?” I foolishly ask myself.

He wouldn’t be in this position in the first place. He would’ve caught on to Mr Beck the second he walked into the picture. This is all my fault, and Peter shouldn’t have to pay for my mistakes. He would save Peter.

“30 seconds remaining.”

I open my eyes and watch the screen, watch the seconds slowly inch down. A tear escapes my eye, and I don’t bother hiding It’s clear i’m upset, my facade has fallen.

He slowly inches towards me, placing his hand ‘comfortingly’ on my face and using his thumb to wipe away my tears. “What’s it gonna be?”

My eyes are filled with furry, though my voice doesn’t reflect it as I calmly reply. “I hate you so fucking much.”

“I knew you’d come around!” He smiles, walking to the other side of the pitch black room. I see a number panel light up, as he looks to me expectantly.

The timer continues to rush down, now reading 18 seconds.

“0212912001” I recite quickly through clenched teeth.

I faintly hear the clicking of him inputting some numbers.

“Your birthday?”

“My birthday.” I mumble, allowing a tear to roll down my cheek.

Beep Beep

The machine confirms, illuminating a green light as he turns back to me in astonishment.

“Didn’t think i’d tell the truth?” I coldly stare at the timer, as my tears continue to fall.

“No.” He says shortly, rushing to see the projector, “I honestly didn’t think you’d be so weak.” He says it like a passing thought. As though he planned to say it in confidence but was too worried about something else that was going on.

“Six.” The tedious voice reminds.

“Giving up your fathers most important life changing inventions?”

“Five.”

“To protect your boyfriend?”

“Four.”

He laughs, shaking his head. His voice again laced in conceded confidence “Pathetic.”

“Three.”

“Turn it off!” I cry, trying to break free of the restraints that hold me.

“Two.”

“It’s scheduled to upload. The countdown isn’t what controls when. I could never have stopped it.”

“One.”

As if on command, the screen changes to a video of a bloodied Mr Beck, presumably immediately after his fight with Peter. I quickly send him a glance and notice he’s wearing the same outfit as in the broadcast.

“I don’t know if I’ll make it out of this

alive-“ I hear clanking and fighting in the near distance behind the camera, “Peter Parker is Spider-man.” He pants,

Peter is then brought into frame. He’s in his all too familiar suit, but it’s torn, bloodied, and his mask is nowhere in sight .

“No.” I mumble.

“And if you’re seeing this… he’s killed me.”

The screen goes dark and my heart plummets.

[voilate]

His Sacrifice

Pairings: Pope x Fem!Reader x Rafe?

Summary: After volunteering to help Pope retrieve the cross back from Rafe, Y/N is forced to cause a distraction.

Word Count: 1490

⚠️: Swearing, Violence, Guns, Mentions of death, Kidnapping, Blood

Pope holds a silencing finger over his mouth, pressing both himself and crossing an arm over me to keep us out of sight.

I watch as his chest heaves up and down. The blood from his fall just moments prior, trickling down his forehead and over his eye, which he now squints shut.

“What do we do?” I mouth, as Rafe’s footsteps eerily grow closer.

“I know you’re out there Pope!” He screams aimlessly into the forest.

Pope squeezes his eyes closed, trying to desperately blend in with the truck. He omits all his energy into holding him and myself as close as we can possibly be to our coverage, as though if he just breathes and focuses we’ll both escape and live to see another day.

But I can’t close my eyes and press against the truck and hope for the best just as easily as he can.

I watch as the psychotic boy stops just as his blonde hair begins merely poking into my view. In this very moment, if he were to simply turn around, Pope and I would be caught, and probably killed.

Now, I close my eyes too and slowly push my head back against the truck,

“Don’t be a pussy.” Rafe instigates.

His voice echos throughout the empty forest, the sound waves he’s producing probably bouncing off the nearby marsh or some scientific shit. Whatever the reason, he’s being loud, so he probably thinks we’ve made it farther than we actually have.

One of my eyes peek open to the sound of silence. Pope’s deep gasps for air stop, so I quickly inhale and cover my mouth in attempts to silence the volume of my exasperated breathes.

Rafe is gone.

Pope nudges my arm, causing my heart to suddenly stop beating. He nods towards the head of the truck, already beginning to make his way over there. His steps are cautious and practically silent as he attempts to not alert Rafe of our position.

Once we’re out of view, Pope releases a heavy sigh. “We’re gonna get caught.” He says almost inaudibly, “We’ve got nowhere to go, and I don’t have anything anywhere close to a plan.” He looks to the sky, and I see the hint of tears glossing his eyes. “I’m so damn stupid. If we get caught trying to steal The Cross now there’s no way we’ll get another chance.”

I catch a glimpse of Mr Heyward in Pope’s berating of himself. Always putting his son down and making him feel stupid when in reality he’s the smartest person I know. All I can do is watch him sympathetically.

He turns and shakes his head, wiping the blood away from his eye and the risk of tears along with it.

I avert my attention to the window I can now clearly see Rafe’s head through. His screaming, again broadcasting for all to hear as a flock of birds fly east in attempts to avoid his insanity.

His head swerves in all differently directions, probably searching for the audio source of Pope’s fall.

“I’ll distract him.” I quietly tell myself, turning back to Pope. Rafe is insufferable and hard headed and completely psychotic, but he’s no idiot. If we stay here we’re both gonna get caught and Pope will lose the cross. “He’ll never even know you were here.”

He inspects my expression worriedly, “Y/N-“

“Find the keys to the truck, okay?”

After a moment of contemplation, he finally nods. He can’t deny that it’s a good plan. Or maybe it’s our only plan. Regardless, it’s a plan and we need to do something quickly. He slips back to the side of the truck we just came from, prompting me to step outside of the protection granted to us from the car.

Rafe doesn’t see me yet, and I wait for the right moment to allow him to.

He aims a gun at the ground, holding a stance as though he’d shoot me as soon as I appeared within his sight. I note the knife he has tucked away in his pocket and can’t help but wonder if I could somehow obtain it.

His clothes are tight and his shirt is almost nonexistent as it’s been so beaten, torn and dirtied that it’s merely a piece of cloth now.

“Where the fuck are-“ His sentences trails off as he spots me. His harsh tone is replaced by the rolling of his eyes and unnerving laughter, which sends a chill down my spine.

“Well look who it is.” He shouts, arms open as if speaking to an audience. He’s practically daring somebody else to hear it. “Pope’s dumb ass girlfriend! Here, all alone in the woods, trying to steal from me.” His tongue slides over his lip and indents his cheek as he looks over me.

I don’t dare sneak a glance at Pope. Scared to bring attention to him. I just have to hold Rafe off for a few minutes. He won’t kill me.

“Are you gonna fucking talk?”

I slightly shake my head. What is there to say? He inches towards me, making sure to aim the gun directly at my head. “Don’t move pretty girl.”

He traces the pistol along my neck, down my chest, and onto my stomach as he quickly pats me down for any weapons.

I accidentally catch Pope’s eyes and ever so slightly shake my head, begging him not to reveal himself.

“There’s nothing on me.” I shakily remark, just now realizing this myself.

Pope pulls his gaze away from mine and continues searching for the keys.

Rafe chuckles. “Didnt think that one through, huh?” He turns around, as if about to walk away, before whipping towards me and slamming the handle of his gun into my face. The impact sends me flying backwards onto the ground as my hand shoots to my nose.

“Fuck!” I scream as the blood pools into my hand. I quickly become incapable of holding it all and pull my hand away in order to sit myself up.

“Are your friends here?” He yells, stalking towards me.

I shake my head.

He scoffs, kicking me back down.

His head frantically searches in all directions, as if Pope may sneak up behind him. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I’m alone!” I spit through clenched teeth. The tang of blood fills my senses and drips past the small gaps in my teeth, leaking from my lips. He throws himself onto his knees in front of me, gripping my chin so I can’t move my head.

“You have 10 seconds to convince me that you’re alone,” His gun slides up my body, until it’s directly attached to my head. “Before I put a bullet through your brain.”

“I-“ I scramble to think of a reasoning. “I saw you drive off with the Cross and figured it was our last chance to get it back and since none of the guys were following after you I thought I would retrieve it for Pope and he would be so happy he would like me back but I was stupid and wrong and you can keep the Cross just please don’t kill me-“

I inhale shakily, trying to regain my breathe after that hasty explanation.

He smirks, while shoving the gun into the waistband of his pants. He stands and takes a quick glance around before unmercifully stomping into my ribs.

A groan escapes my parted lips as I roll myself into the fertile position. My knees are clutched against my body in attempts to try and protect every aspect of myself that Rafe’s furious wrath could harm.

At this point, I’ve probably got a broken nose, a black eye, a loose tooth, and now crushed ribs.

He sighs, more annoyed than anything, watching me pathetically writhe around on the ground.

“Fine.” He mutters coldly, grabbing a fist full of my hair and pulling me to my feet. He begins dragging me towards the truck in which I can clearly see Pope messing around inside of.

I voice a loud complaint about how hard he’s tugging on my hair and catch Pope’s eyes as he quickly collapses onto the floor of the car, inching towards the right side of the vehicle and making his quick escape.

Rafe pulls me to the back of the truck, unlocking the big metal container and throwing me inside. I land harshly against a rough edge of the cross and feel a stabbing pain on my hip.

“I know Pope is here.” He mumbles, “I saw him fall like 10 minutes ago.”

He begins to close the metal door before pausing and giving me a disappointed glance.

Without a single word he closes an eye and trains the gun right to my head.

“No, Please-“

He rolls his eyes and fires right past me, leaving a bullet sized hole merely 3 inches away from my face, before slamming the container shut.