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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years

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Vampr Erik Origin: Part Two

okay so I wanted to quickly get this out to basically wrap up the origin half of my new vampire Erik series Faerie and Vampr that I am starting.

Origin Part One

Let’s start with a little background on vampires:

In order to create a vampire, a human must be drained of their blood by a vampire and the blood lost needs to be replaced by some of the vampire's blood. The vampire and human must then sleep in the ground (this is presumably the point where they technically die) until the newborn rises as a vampire the following night. The newborn and the maker will subsequently have a maker-progeny bond, unless the maker deserts or releases their progeny.

If the head, or the heart are missing at the time of death, the person in question will not wake in transition; but simply stay dead. Currently, it is unknown what will happen to a person who lost other organs, such as a liver, or kidneys, and woke up in transition. Most fatal injuries, such as snapped necks, slit throats, stab wounds, and shattered bones from falls will be healed before the fledgling vampire awakens in transition. Furthermore, the person must be mortally wounded or ill to the point that conventional means cannot save their lives. I

A newborn's existence depends upon their abilities, which are taught to them by their maker. These abilities take time to learn and develop. As vampires age, they become more adept at controlling their abilities. According to the history of the creation of vampires, two-thirds of newborns die during their first year without the guidance of their makers.

Newborn vampires will be thirsty and will need to feed to survive. Although newborns have some control of their abilities, they are mostly controlled by their impulses and can cause serious harm and accidental deaths to humans around them. In addition, newborns cannot resist blood at all, as resistance develops with age. The biggest difference is the fact that a vampire gains extreme strength, and has much agility and reflexes. This is more than a match for almost every human alive, and serves the vampire well for hunting and feeding. Of course, like humans, some vampires are just naturally stronger than others.

Also, if a human who is strong is turned into a vampire, then that human strength is added to the vampire strength, creating a very powerful vampire. This is why many vampire leaders will sire huge men; they make incredible bodyguards even against a Slayer. As a vampire grows older, it’s demon side becomes more and more powerful. Vampires do not age, their bodies are, for the most part, just reanimated preserved corpses, and do they, through supernatural means, stay the same forever. There are some exceptions, for example, vampires still appear to grow hair...though perhaps at a much-reduced rate.

A vampire can suffer terrible injuries and heal from them easily. Since they can only be killed by a few select things, they can suffer injuries a human could not heal from, like a broken spine. Gunshots, swords, and any injuries caused by weapons that aren’t wood can’t kill a vampire, only cause pain. Certain vampire poisons and magic do exist though, which will permanently hurt, or kill a vampire. In 1610, a powerful witch named Antonia Gavilán de Logroño cast a spell that summoned all vampires within a 20 mile radius to expose themselves to sunlight. This caused a number of vampires to die and caused vampires to be very fearful of necromancy.

Another example of the supernatural preservation is that vampires don’t need to take oxygen to live. They can, however, force air in and out of their lungs, which allows them to do things like smoke, or perhaps cool air into their chest if they get too warm. They do not have a beating heart like humans do. Although this is true, through some supernatural means they still seem to have blood flow. Without a blood flow, a vampire can’t bleed, or react to drugs, which they clearly do. They can’t however become pregnant or produce waste.

Vampires are recognizable from their fangs, which are located behind the maxillary lateral incisors (as opposed to the canines, as per vampire mythology). Fangs can be extended and retracted by choice, and are controlled by the movements of certain facial muscles. However, fangs protrude automatically when vampires are feeding, angry, excited, sexually aroused (colloquially referred to as a "fang boner"), need to fight, or see blood. Fangs can also be removed, but grow back after three months. Without fangs, vampires cannot feed on live victims unless the victim is already wounded….

——————————-

Erik’s eyes shot wide open in a flash. Darkness surrounded him and his large, muscular body was resting on a hard surface. He could hear the springtails, beetles, centipedes, and ants that make their home in the soil, crawling around. The katydids and crickets were chirping much louder in his ears now. He could smell the odor of dry blood and decay in the earth from the deceased. His body no longer aches and he felt like he had the strength of an entire army.

The last thing he remembered was waking up on a makeshift bed surrounded by burning ritual candles enchanted with herbs, oils, and crystals chosen for their metaphysical and magical properties. He could recall a voice, a captivating voice speaking Jamaican patois in his ear. Now that he forced himself to remember while lying beneath the cold, damp earth, she said she was Mama Dalma; Tia Dalma. The powerful voodoo priestess Erik heard many stories about in his youth.

Like flashes, Erik could vividly see her coming down on him speedily and sinking her teeth into his neck, draining him of his blood. What was she? She said that she would give him the power of immortality, superhuman strength, and healing capabilities. Did that include drinking blood too? From what Erik could tell from his razor-sharp senses is that it’s nightfall. His hands reach above him, feeling around since he could only see pitch black. He noticed wood beneath his fingertips. Erik pushed with ease, although the top flew off and landed somewhere far within the distance. He sits up, finally breathing in the night air.

Erik stares at his hands in bewilderment before looking around him. Erik could see the full moon peeking through the branches of the oak trees. As his eyes moved he could make out a sprawling wooden shack surrounded by a damp, gloomy world. It’s a steamy bayou and the forest within this area looked like a spooky cypress where fireflies flickered in the heavy air. The swamp water surrounding the shack was eerily still. The sprawling shack clings to the branches of a tree within the swamp. This had to be Tia Dalma’s home.

...Yuh can stay here on muh table and die slowly...or I can give yuh immortality….

Her words rang true in his ears. Tia Dalma saved his life. Erik was about to die by the hands of white men who seeked revenge for burning down their homes and killing their families. He now remembers tasting the mixture of saltwater and freshwater, also known as brackish water in his mouth after being tossed inside the swamp by the white men. The gators would have devoured him in minutes if it wasn’t for him being pulled from the swamp. He figured Tia must have killed those men and rescued him.

Standing slowly, Erik tested his ability to move by stepping out of what appears to be a wooden coffin and into the shoveled-out ditch. He clearly recovered from the multiple stab wounds to his abdomen. His cream colored linen blend shirt with a collar was still covering his torso even though it was ripped. Erik delicately touches the skin of his much smoother chest, his head lowering to follow his movements with fascination. His blood still stained the shirt that is also covered in dirt and grass stains. Lifting his shirt up, he examined his abdomen, the muscles crunching the more he bends his back to get a good look.

There are no wounds. The jagged knife used on him to create deep gashes was apparently gone. All that’s left is smooth skin and an eight pack so rock hard that if a mortal punched him their phalanges down to their carpals would be fractured beyond repair. Erik breathes irregularly and his eyes are wide with astonishment. He quickly touched his face and head, his hands moving rapidly with shock. His face is back to normal before the white men kicked, punched, and pistol-whipped him.

“Wut kind of magic is dis’?” He spoke with a staggering voice. While staring at his hands, a drop of blood landed on his skin. Startled, Erik touches his nose, bringing it down to examine. He’s bleeding. After that realization an insatiable need to eat overpowered him. It hit him so fast and strong that it made his body weaken and stumble. He grabbed at his throat as more blood dripped from his nostrils. Erik lets out agonized gasps that turned into deep growls. His fingers damn near clawed at his throat. He felt like he was going to die if he didn’t eat something, anything.

“Wah yuh still doin’ down dere?”

Erik turned with great speed towards the direction of the vivid voice. Standing above him, was Tia Dalma herself. She’s wearing the same sheer, black gown Erik remembers, her long, slender dreadlocks framing her face and a sneaky smile was plastered on her black painted lips.

“Wut happened to me? Did I die?” Erik says while looking up at Tia Dalma with his inky black irises outlined crimson twinkling in the evening night.

“If yuh climb out of deh, Mama will tell yuh everything,” Tia Dalma steps back, “Come mi child.”

Erik grabs hold of a few vines sprouting from the soil-covered wall before climbing up with superhuman agility, his body standing before Tia Dalma in a matter of seconds. The speed still amazed him. It felt like everything around him was moving at a slow pace. Tia locked eyes with Erik before circling him. She was especially proud of herself. She finally has a progeny after 175 years of immortality. Tia smelled Erik’s dreadlocks and squeezed his muscles while circling his beautiful frame.

“I give yuh more life, Erik Stevens. Yuh will walk deh earth unstoppable, like mi,” Tia caresses Erik’s cheek with her sharp, long black nail. He looked her up and down before his eyes moved to the finger on his cheek. He gently brings his hand up, grabbing her finger and bringing it away from his face.

“Wut am I?” He spoke carefully with squinted eyes.

“Yuh a Vampr, Erik, a creature of deh night, deh undead.”

“Ondèd? Mwen? Ondèd?” He walks away, his head moving up, down, and side to side with curiosity and confusion. Mama Dalma watched like a proud mother with her arms crossed, allowing Erik to get a feel of things before she started teaching him. The sooner the better since he’s a newborn. Erik could see with perfect clarity in the darkness of the night, to the point of being able to detect bodily heat emanations. The keenness was comparable on many levels to a bat or owl but ten times more.

Erik starts moving extremely quick, testing out his new abilities. He would run to the left and stop, then turn and do the same thing, creating diagonal patterns with his movements. This speed made it impossible for him to be detected. The more he moved, the more excited he became. He was like a curious child, wanting to explore what else he was capable of doing. Erik ran towards an oak tree, wrapped his arms around it, and without even trying, he uprooted the entire tree before dropping it. The oak tree landed on the ground heavily, causing it to shake like an earthquake. This startled the animals, leading to a few deer and owls fleeing.

“Just rampin around huh?” Tia Dalma laughs before walking up to Erik. His eyes are wide and his nostrils flared. All he wanted to do was move. Staying still only agitated him. Mama Dalma grabs his arm, yanking him towards her with her strength superior to Erik’s since she is much older.

“Ah, yuh have deh bleeds,” Tia wipes Erik’s nose with her fingers, “Deh is what happens when yuh need to eat.” She checked his ears, and sure enough, he’s bleeding from there as well. Erik raises a single brow in question, clearly not understanding a word she was saying.

“Out and bad, yuh will have deh chance to play, but for now, mi have to teach yuh about what it is to be a vampr. Listen to mi, Erik,” She spoke sternly while grabbing his chin harshly, “Yuh have to feed. Deh is mi first lesson. Feedin’. Come.”

Tia Dalma grabs Erik’s hand and the both of them zoom off into the night.

___________________

A white young lady named Isabella Guidry was playing her violin on the open porch of her family's plantation home. The Guidry plantation had about thirty field slaves before they were all freed because of the abolition of slavery. The only negros left we’re the house negros who prepared meals, cleaned, and baby sat. Isabella had just turned 21 years old and she was in preparation to be wed to a veteran named Alex Bellefleur who served as First Lieutenant in the 28th Louisiana Infantry. She suddenly stopped playing her violin when she heard her mother calling for her.

“Isabella! Come in darling! Yvette has to do ya hair! Ya have to teach the new debutants in da morning!”

“Coming, mama!” Isabella places her violin back in its case before securing it. She fluffed out her full forest green skirt that reached the ground, the bustle providing fullness in the back. The cream-colored corset top with cotton bell sleeves cinched her waist giving her an hourglass appearance. She stepped inside of the grand plantation home, the eldest house negro named Mabel approaching her cautiously. Mabel was wearing an apron over her withering cotton dress, her silver hair sprouting from underneath her sun bonnet.

“Miss Isabella, ya needin’ any help?” Mabel asks.

“Just take my violin, please,” Isabella spoke dismissively, “Da last time one of ya broke my precious violin...DONT break this one,” Isabella spoke harshly.

“Yes ma’am,” Mabel grabs the violin case from Isabella carefully before turning to leave with a limp in her leg.

“Why are ya walking like that, Mabel?” Isabella studied Mabel’s legs.

“Nothin’ just tired is all,” Mabel smiles despite her pain before turning the corner to leave.

“Isabella!”

Her green eyes looked up to find her mother standing at the top of the stairs dressed in a black gown with a full skirt, her jet black hair pulled to the back of her head in a neat bun, and pearls dangling from her slender neck. She was clutching a handkerchief and before Isabella could ask why her mother began coughing into it.

“Get up here, Bella. Yvette will put barley curls in ya hair and roll dem up. She’s waiting in ya room.”

Her mother turns away abruptly, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor before disappearing into her bedroom. Isabella climbs the stairs to her room, worry filling her belly for her mother. When she finally made it to her room, Yvette was waiting for her patiently by her Astoria Grand Vanity. Yvette is a mulatto slave who Isabella’s father treated differently from the others because she’s his secret daughter. Her father slept with a house slave named Edna and impregnated her. Isabella’s mother found out and sold Edna to another plantation; the Compton plantation in St. Tammany Parish.

“Evenin’ Miss Isabella,” Yvette spoke with her beguiling voice. She has smooth tawny skin, loose curly, sandy brown ringlets framing her face while the rest was hidden beneath a red and khaki tigon, which was simply the French New Orleans version of an African head wrap. She wore a brown southern belle dress with lace drop shoulder sleeves, a low neckline, and a voluminous skirt. Isabella hates that this is her half sister and the fact that she gets to dress so nicely.

“Who gave ya dat dress?” Isabella asks with an attitude and jealous eyes.

“I made it, Miss Isabella,” Yvette blinks her chocolate brown eyes away, “I have to do ya hair.”

“I know, barely curls,” Isabella takes a seat at her vanity, her eyes sharp on Yvette. Yvette could feel her burning holes through her head with her furious eyes while she took down Isabella’s black hair. Yvette grabs a brush to smooth it down, “Well? Wut are ya waitin’ on?! Do my hair!”

“Yes, Miss Isabella,” Yvette moved at a faster pace before grabbing a clip to pin up some of Isabella’s dark strands.

“I hate ya,” Isabella didn’t hesitate to say, “Ya brought down my family, ya negro tramp.”

Yvette bites her tongue. She had a lot that she wanted to say to Isabella but she would only end up killed. It wasn’t her fault that her father slept with her mother, Edna, around the same time Isabella’s mother was pregnant. Yvette didn’t ask to be here. She couldn’t control the fact that she was half white, even though she despised that side of her because of how they treated blacks. Yvette will always feel disgusted about that part of her. While Yvette began working on Isabella’s hair, wetting a few strands, a scream rang out from her mother’s room. It went on a few more times, the sound so scary it made Isabella’s fingers tremble. Yvette was in the middle of wrapping Isabella’s damp hair around a piece of soft rag to form the curls when she stopped, a startled expression on her face.

“What da hell?” Isabella stands, “mama?” She called. Her father wasn’t home yet from an outing with her fiancé, Alex, and the rest of the men for drinks, preferably hard apple cider and rum. It was unnaturally quiet. A pin dropping would probably echo throughout the room from how silent it was. Isabella lets out a panting breath before standing from her vanity. Yvette began to quickly clean Isabella’s vanity, her hands shaky. She heard tales about Ricardo Dupoux and his revolt burning down plantations throughout Louisiana. She didn’t want to be around for it to happen.

“Go see what dat noise is!” Isabella ordered. Yvette pauses, giving Isabella a dirty look.

“Did I stutter, nigger?! Go see what dat is! NOW!” Isabella yells with a trembling finger pointed to the door.

Yvette drops the items in her hand onto the vanity before gathering the bottom of her dress to walk away. Before she could even make it to the door it was torn from its hinges. Yvette runs to the other side of the room, tripping over the bottom of her dress, and falling to the floor while Isabella screams, falling back against her bed. Standing at the door, both bodies covered in blood, is a black man and a black woman. Their eyes are round with pitch black irises, mouths wide open and sharp fangs protruding automatically to threaten. Their faces from the nose down are covered in blood and some of it stained their clothes. The woman, however, barely wore any fabric, her small breasts with hardened nipples and her hairy mound clearly visible.

“WHO ARE YA?!!! WHAT DID YA DO TO MY MAMA?!!!” Isabella yells with fear. Yvette was hugging herself in a corner, tears filling her eyes as she prayed in Haitian creole.

“Chè Bondye, tanpri, mwen pa vle mouri,” She sobbed while praying.

“No use in cryin’ child, hush yuh mouth,” Mama Dalma spoke with an evil tongue, “hole yuh cahna, gurl,” She insulted Isabella, putting her in her place when she kept yelling about how they are a bunch of niggers and how her father will find them and kill them.

Erik tasted his first victim and it was glorious. It was like an unimaginable, indescribable sweet heavenly nectar. It’s like being able to perpetually exist off nothing but sweet desserts without any negative health repercussions. The taste of Isabella’s mother's blood reminded him of fresh gala apples. It satisfied his hunger but it didn’t give him that feeling he yearned for, a feeling close to an orgasm. A feeling close to his dick chubbing up in his brown knickers. As he stared at Isabella with predatory eyes, he could hear her heart racing, and smell her fear, a scent that Erik relished. While he was draining Isabella’s mother dry he could hear Isabella’s heartbeat through the thick walls. His new powers as the undead allowed him to see Isabella’s blood and brain activity as well.

“Mwen pa ka tann pou tiye sa a,” Erik spoke with a deep, gravelly voice before licking blood from his chin with his thick pink tongue. Mama Dalma gave him a seductive look, her clit jumping below her tightly coiled pubic hair. Yvette shudders from his words. He said he couldn’t wait to kill Isabella. Yvette wondered if he would say the same about her.

“Eat mi child,” Mama Dalma says with a wave of her hand, granting Erik permission to drain Isabella dry. Mama Dalama couldn’t keep her eyes off of Erik’s blood-covered lips and fangs. Isabella tried to run with a high-pitched scream filling the room but Erik already detected her escape, running up on her at a whizzing speed that ripped through the air, grabbing her by the back of her frail neck and slamming her face first on the hardwood floor. Erik twisted her neck painfully before sinking his fangs deep into her pulsating jugular vein. Since he’s new, he drank from Isabella with so much excitement to taste her blood that Tia had to stand by him to instruct him.

“Patience, Erik, slow down,” Mama Dalma moves some of his dreads from his face, “Feel her heartbeat...yuh feel that? Yuh hear it slowing up? Deh is what yuh want to look for. When yuh feedin’ yuh must never take deh last breath or it will draw yuh in and yuh will drop out. If yuh plan on feeding yuh have to learn how to do it without killing dem, yuh know?”

Isabella’s cries grew fainter and fainter. Yvette was staring her in the eyes, watching the life drain from her body. Tears of fear fell from Yvette’s eyes and a hand came up to cover her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. She didn’t understand what she was witnessing before her eyes.

“Good job, Big up yourself,” Mama Dalma congratulates Erik on properly feeding from his victim, “Now, yuh may finish her off.”

Erik didn’t need to be told twice. He sank his fangs deeper, ripping the flesh from her neck, and in a matter of seconds, Isabella was lifeless. Erik retracted his fangs before dropping her body to the floor with a loud thud. Her blood was much better than her mother’s, it tasted like cinnamon apples. He could easily tell Isabella and her mother apart from their bodily odor, down to their blood types.

“Now, appreciate yuh prey,” Mama Dalma smashes Isabella’s head like a watermelon with her bare foot, “Deh are food, and only food.” She reminds a newborn Erik.

“More,” Erik says while the blood of his victims electrified his body.

“There’s one more,” Mama Dalma points her sharp black claw nail at Yvette, “She’s a pretty one too...I bet she tastes better,” Mama Dalma says with a honeyed voice.

The echo-sensitivity of Erik’s hearing is what made him notice Yvette. When his eyes landed on hers and his nose sniffed the air she openly cried, her hands flailing and pretty face stained with tears. His sheer speed made it impossible for Yvette to escape. Erik picks Yvette up by her neck and slams her against the wall, grabbing her chin to aggressively turn her head so that he could have access to her neck, or, another area…

“Mwen...Mwen...bèl, Mwen,” His eyes are glued to the copious amount of cleavage she has spilling over the top of her dress. Her skin was translucent to him and he could see her veins and arteries contracting and pushing blood throughout her. Then, Erik could hear her heart like ritual drums pounding his ears. She smelled so...good. Her scent was like Heliotropes with their vivid purple beauty that reminded Erik of cherry pie.

“Tanpri, pa touye m’. Mwen ansent!!!” She pleaded and shook with fear, “Mwen gen yon ti bebe k ap grandi andedan mwen!!” She couldn’t look Erik in his killer eyes.

Erik retracted his fangs, his eyes tearing away from Yvette’s cleavage with great restraint. He lets go of Yvette walking away to control himself. Yvette slides down the wall to the floor clutching her belly. She trembled as she cried. Erik clenched his fists, trying his best to control his breathing and his temptations to drain her dry.

“Erik? Wuh are yuh doing?!!!” Mama Dalma spoke with rage, speeding over to Erik and standing in front of him, “Yuh stopped...why did Yuh do deh?!” Mama Dalma was hysterical.

“Not dis one,” Erik spoke with a low trembling voice, “She’s pregnant.”

Mama Dalma tilted her head up at Erik before grabbing his chin roughly, causing her sharp nails to sink into the flesh of his cheeks, drawing blood,“Yuh came here to feed, right? Wat a gwaan? Yuh killed the other two just fine. Yuh can’t have remorse, it’s not in our nature.”

“I can’t do it,” Erik moves his head away from Mama Dalma’s grip, “There has to be another way, I can’t-I can’t kill her.”

Mama Dalma’s eyes were scornful on Erik. He didn’t cower under her gaze because he knew she wouldn’t kill him, she needed him, that much Erik could tell.

Mama Dalma closes her eyes with a shake of her head, “Yuh queff dem whites...Yuh need to glamour this one then, wipe her memory.”

Erik’s eyes narrowed with confusion.

“It's a form of hypnosis. Come, I’ll show Yuh.”

Both Mama Dalma and Erik dash to Yvette causing her to scream. Erik places a hand over her mouth to calm her but it wasn’t working. Mama Dalma rolls her eyes with frustration, preferring to kill her but Erik did need to learn how to glamour his victims.

“Alright, now, stare into her eyes.”

Erik locks eyes with Yvette.

“Keep eye contact...yes...now, yuh will feel yourself invading her mind...when yuh feel that connection, hold it with all Yuh might. Now...use your voice to compel her to do wuh yuh want her to do...now try.”

Erik felt tethered to Yvette’s mind. It was hard to hold on but Erik pushed himself to keep Yvette under his control. He liked the challenge and if this was going to be his life he needed to do it right the first time. That was the perfectionist in him, even as Ricardo Dupoux.

“...I’m going to release ya mouth now….” Erik spoke calmly and carefully. Yvette didn’t make a sound as Erik’s hand left her mouth. She stared at him with a dazed expression like she was in a dream-like state.

“Tell me, what’s ya name, girl?” Erik asks.

“Yvette,” She spoke with reverie.

“Yvette...ya very lucky tonight. Ya get to leave dis plantation and never look back. Ya can find ya family, and be free with ya babies,” Erik smiles with his blood stained lips and deep charming dimples causing Yvette to smile.

“I can finally see my mama?” even in a stupor, Yvette couldn’t fight the tears of joy falling from her eyes.

“Yeah, ya can go to ya mama. Ya won’t remember wut happened here tonight, ya never even saw me, or her,” Erik reaches out to stroke Yvette’s face. She leaned into his touch while staring at him like she was stuck in a daydream.

“Now, I’m gonna let ya go now, girl. Forget this plantation, just keep going and don’t look back, ya hear me?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl, now, go on, love, leave and never, ever look back.” Erik stressed while holding the eye contact he had with her. Yvette blinked her pretty chocolate brown eyes at him like she was under a love spell, “Say, yes sir so I know you understand what I’m telling ya to do.”

“Yes sir,” Yvette says with a nod of her head. Erik left her in suspended animation while Yvette lifted from the floor, gathering the front of her dress, and walking out of the room. She was gone.

“Yuh gonna tell mi wuh happened back dere?”

Erik turned to Mama Dalma and she was on him in a flash, slamming him to the floor hard and breaking the floorboards beneath him. His fangs extended and he hissed at her with his dark eyes unblinking on her. Mama Dalma’s hands are a blur as she holds Erik down with his arms above his head. She hissed in his face harder, her fangs inches away from biting a hole through his pouty bottom lip.

“Yuh enjoy misbehaving I see. Let me tell yuh something,” She spoke with venom, “I am Yuh maker, I created yuh, and I can take Yuh life away,” She snaps her fingers before dragging her hand down his body to his crotch, squeezing his erection hard, “Just...like...deh, do yuh understand? I command yuh, I have a link to Yuh body and when I call on yuh...yuh come to mama,” She whispered before pushing off of him with great speed, standing above him.

“Retract yuh fangs,” She says. Erik glared at her on that floor, disobeying her yet again.

“As yuh maker, I COMMAND YUH TO RETRACT YUH FANGS...NOW!” Her voice boomed.

Erik retracted them without any more trouble.

“Good boy,” She says, “Now get up. I’m not finished feedin’.”

_______________

There are rows of Cajun homes within New Orleans that belonged to many white people. Some were plantations, others were of regular architecture. Mama Dalma and Erik have been feeding all night and it would be dawn soon in a couple of hours. Since Tia has already killed the men that attempted to kill Erik, Erik seeked revenge on their families. They couldn’t walk into the homes unless they were invited which is what got them inside of the Guidry plantation. An elder house negro named Mabel invited them inside when Mama Dalma persuaded her. As soon as Mama Dalma and Erik stepped into the home, Mama Dalma killed Mabel by draining her blood through her throat.

Mama Dalma made Erik glamor each white person that owned the homes so they could invite them inside to kill them. Bloody footprints made a trail up the road to each and every home. Children, mothers, and fathers all lay in a bloody pile for the flies to swarm them. It was sensual and addictive to feed from his victims. He didn’t feel sexual attraction towards them, especially the racists whites all over New Orleans, but the tastier the blood, the harder his dick became. His mortal life was becoming an afterthought, especially with what happened at the Guidry plantation. He couldn’t bring himself to kill Yvette, even as a newborn, because she was pregnant. Her fear and her words made him think about Justine Dupoux; his wife, and his two little girls, Rose Fabiola Dupoux and Felicie Ines Dupoux.

With Dawn approaching, Mama Dalma and Erik are simply walking through the bayou, dried blood on their skin from head to toe. Mama Dalma tells Erik the story of how she was created. A mob of pirates came looking for her to kill her because of a curse she placed on them. They hunted her down and each of them took turns raping and stabbing her to death. She was coughing up her own blood in her shack in Cuba similar to the one she has in New Orleans. Just minutes later, a handsome vampr with smooth bronze skin, a broad and hooked nose, thick curly hair, and a tall, slender frame cane upon her. He said he had traveled from the Eastern Desert that extends from the Nile Valley all the way to the Red Sea Coast. He was stunned by Mama Dalma’s bravery and beauty, so he granted her the gift of immortality.

Erik impressed Mama Dalma for his thirst for things. She, however, knew that Erik was going to be trouble since he’s not used to taking orders from anyone. Within their walk in the remaining hours of darkness, Mama Dalma taught Erik all about the world of a vampire and its history from what her maker shared with her. As for Erik’s new powers, he was beside himself with the pleasure of it all. He will live forever, he is strong and unstoppable, and he can hypnotize people at will. One downside to it all was that he was going to miss the feeling of the sun on his skin, releasing endorphins such as serotonin; proven to improve mood, and energy, and increase feelings of calm and focus. Another downside stood before his eyes right now. Erik didn’t mean to come here.

Hiding in the trees, Erik stares at his old home. It was a beautiful forest retreat surrounded by green. He remembers building this home from the ground up. Focusing his eyes, Erik can see an oil lamp ignited in the small window of the living room. Just beyond the glass, Justine could be seen praying with Erik’s mother, Fabiola. He could hear them calling on the spirits for help to bring Erik back to them. Rose and Felicie are sound asleep in their beds. Erik can hear their soft breaths. He couldn’t stop thinking about all the times he would enter that home, kicking off his riding boots and sneaking up on his wife while she sewed their daughters clothing, placing a delicate kiss to her neck before trailing those kisses down to his wife’s copious cleavage. He could almost feel her curves against his solid frame. Then, the smell of his daughter's hair; a lavender scent. They were always so happy to see him.

“Come on, we’ve stayed long enough,” Mama Dalma says with a hand to Erik’s shoulder, “A vampire's life is a life of discretion.”

“Discretion?” Erik looks down at Mama Dalma as his eyes become glossy before they leaked bloody tears, “Why must we hide, Mama Dalma? We are da powerful, we are da immortal, we should walk fearless in da open,” Erik spoke with a raucous voice. He didn’t like that he had to leave his family behind. Stopping here to see his home one final time was a grave mistake.

“Deh cannot be, mi child,” Mama Dalma wipes away Erik’s bloody tears with her fingers, slipping them into her mouth to clean off, “Mortals must never know bout’ us for deh sake of our kind-

“So I can never know my family?!!!” Erik’s voice was thick with emotion.

“Not unless yuh plan on killing all of dem. Yuh have to cut out, Erik,” She steps closer to him, her eyes more serious, “Yuh must be dead to deh world.”

“I can’t accept dat,” He steps away.

“As yuh maker, I command yuh to leave yuh family behind.”

Erik’s body felt like it was being controlled just from those words alone. Mama Dalma starts walking away, and Erik has no other choice but to follow her while bloody tears stained his cheeks.

“Yuh will do nothing but feed and feed until yuh are satisfied. We are savages, it is time for yuh to understand deh...I am sick of repeating myself wit yuh,” Mama Dalma scolds, “Now, let us go to ground until tomorrow night, I’m craving infant blood,” Mama Dalma wickedly laughs while twirling around in a state of euphoria, her hands playing in her dreadlocks, “I know where deh newborn nursery is at Charity Hospital!! Nice, plump babies!!!”

Tia Dalma is the epitome of vampiric evil and malice, all because of her abusive, cold-hearted, and manipulative maker named Abasi. Abasi and Tia traveled all over from South America, Africa, Europe, and North America.Together, Abasi using Tia’s abilities to seduce and entice men and women, he lured them into his clutches, thereby raping and murdering countless men and women then mutilating their bodies. Abasi created a sadistic vampire. Erik has yet to see what Mama Dalma is capable of and she couldn’t wait to transform him into a male version of herself, just as cruel, limitless, sadistic, and torturous.

____________________

It is the year 1891, three years after Erik Stevens was made vampr. Mama Dalma and Erik often traveled to the French Quarter, also known as Vieux Carré and Barrio Francés. Anglophone Americans and Francophone Creoles would meet and do business in both French and English. It was a big tourist destination. There are multi-story Creole townhouses with businesses occupying ground floors and living quarters above. There were railroad tracks, warehouses, and industries built near the riverfront. Some wealthy Quarter residents relocated to Esplanade Avenue and North Rampart Street when things became overcrowded. Here, Mama Dalma and Erik felt most alive at night. It’s been a while since Erik came to the French Quarter.

The old Lalaurie mansion that was burned down by a mob in 1834 and remodeled in 1838 is used as a public school for girls. Evening parades with drunken civilians who engaged in sex and violence thrilled Mama Dalma and Erik. There is a luxury hotel that Mama Dalma and Erik often decide to bombard and take the riches from the wealthy whites after draining them. Erik especially loved to steal three piece lounge suits and polished shoes for himself from local shops. He looked dapper with the slim fit, always wearing his jackets partially undone to reveal the high buttoning waistcoats and watch-chain. He didn’t bother buttoning his shirt since he preferred it to be open to show off his defined pectorals and sculpted eight pack. He still dawned the Vodou jewelry he adored so much.

Mama Dalma is a confident woman who screams sex. She often wore long, sheer gowns that gave you a view of her nudity. She wore heavy jewelry like Erik and dark makeup that made her inky black eyes pop. She was determined to fuck Erik, waiting patiently for him to finally accept his new life. It took him over a year to freely accept being a vampire. He never talked about his family again which made Mama Dalma very happy, especially if he was going to be her lover. It was his compelling eyes, his remarkable body, his voice, the way he fed on his victims, how his dick would thicken and leave an enormous bulge that she wanted nothing more but to ride, suck, and nibble on with her fangs. She noticed the way women; white and black, looked at him. She noticed a lot of traits in his new vampire body. Erik is calculating, disobedient because he didn’t like to be told what to do and when to do it, seductive, calm and methodical unless pushed towards a lethal violence with surprising strength for a newborn.

One evening, Mama Dalma and Erik visit a brothel, posing as a wealthy black couple. The prostitutes of the brothel were a mixture of races; French Creoles, Spanish, Haitian Creoles, African Americans, White Americans, and the list goes on. It’s been three years since Erik had sex with a woman. He would often lure and seduce them to kill them or feed but not to have sex. Seeing all of the half naked women offering themselves to him stirred something within him that he hadn’t felt since his wife. He could never see them again so there was no use in denying himself of what he craved besides drinking blood. Mama Dalma sensed his struggle and decided to let Erik have some fun while she watched, that is, until she intervenes.

Erik chose a beautiful African American girl named Althea who physically reminded him of his wife; short, curves in all the right places, and lips so round and full he wondered how good they tasted. She wore tight, barely curls in her hair and Victorian lingerie with a corset in a peach color. She looked timid, constantly staring at her bare feet to avoid Erik’s piercing black eyes. Just simply extending his hand for her to grasp made her gasp. When Erik took her to a room draped in red velvet with fancy suede red furniture lit by an electric lantern, he informed her that Mama Dalma simply wanted to watch them have sex. This poor girl Althea didn’t know what was coming to her. Mama Dalma took a seat in a corner, removing her long coat and revealing her sheer gown underneath.

“I’ve never done dis before...having a woman watch me,” Althea whispered nervously.

“Just act like she’s not even there, girl,” Erik kisses down Althea’s neck, “Ya like da way I kiss?”

“Yes,” Althea gasps when Erik’s tongue snakes down her neck to her cleavage, “Ya sure love to lick my skin, Sir,” Althea laughs nervously. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of Mama Dalma.

“Ya smell just like honey,” Erik drags his nose along Althea’s skin, “I bet ya taste like honey too, girl...right here,” Erik says while rubbing her pussy lips through her lingerie.

“Please,” Althea lays back in the bed, “ya so handsome, I need ya to fuck me.”

Mama Dalma brings her hand down between her legs, resting her fingers over her curly pubic hair. Wet wasn’t even the word to describe how slick her folds are. Watching Erik undress Althea made her fangs extend on its own. Luckily, she’s in the shadows and Althea can’t see. Erik used one had to rip Althea’s corset and lingerie from her body, causing her to moan from his aggressiveness. Althea has nice big, round breasts with dark chocolate areolas and nipples. Mama Dalma could only imagine how it must feel to sink her teeth into all that flesh.

“Goddamn, girl,” Erik practically rips his shirt from his body followed by his waistcoat, trousers, and shoes. Althea couldn’t believe the body before her was real. She touched Erik with intriguing eyes filled with so much desire they began to water.

“What a beautiful man,” Althea expresses, “What are ya?”

“Ya Master,” Erik gives Althea a wicked smile, “And da one dat plans on making ya cum,” He licks his lips before leaning forward to suck on Althea’s nipples.

Her heart rate banged in his ears and the constant pulse coming from her veins and arteries was driving him insane. He was extremely hungry and after three years of being a vampire his control became better. His fangs didn’t extend prematurely anymore, now, Erik could control it. Althea’s sweet moans made his fat dick cast iron hard. He quickly drags his lips down Althea’s body while she grabs a fist full of his long, slender dreadlocks. Erik wasted no time while bringing Althea’s legs up and out, causing her to whimper. The smell of her inner folds was what caused his fangs to extend. Althea heard it and lifted to try and see but Erik held her down with a single hand around her throat while he vigorously lapped at her pussy. Pussy. He forgot how amazing it tasted but with his heightened senses he had to be licking grains of sugar.

“Oh, yes, oh God, yes,” Althea was gripping the sheets while struggling to breath from Erik’s strong hand around her neck, “Yes, Master, eat my pussy like dat.”

Mama Dalma was rubbing her clit in a circular motion with her razor sharp eyes focused on the way Erik’s tongue would lick Althea’s pussy. That thick, pink tongue would flick Althea’s clit up and down and then he would occasionally move that muscle side to side up and down Althea’s inner folds. She was nice and engorged down there, her hips constantly jerking like she wanted to shower Erik with her liquid. The minute Erik’s full lips wrapped around Althea’s clit and labia, Mama Dalma slips three fingers into her pussy to stroke herself. Althea couldn’t handle it. Mama Dalma however would have taken that sweet torture like a champion.

“Unh! Unh! I’m cumming! Master, I’m cumming!”

Althea’s hips levitated off of the bed and Erik followed her movements with his lips still sucking on her clit.

“Jesus,” Mama Dalma whispers, “Yuh tore deh girl up, Erik...her pussy is nice and wet now.”

Erik’s lips slowly pulled off of Althea’s clit to place kisses along her inner thighs. He licked with a circular motion to make her shiver before sinking her teeth into her thigh. Althea screams, yanking Erik’s dreadlocks. Her entire body spasms beneath him, soft whimpers escaping her mouth. She didn’t understand what was going on. Erik retracted his fangs before licking her blood up that constantly leaked. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before kneeling between Althea’s legs with his dick in hand. Althea watched him clutch that long pipe before bringing her knees back further.

“It’s so big,” She says with a stunned voice, her hands holding her pussy lips open now with desperation, “ya fucking me wit dat?” She was nervous and aroused at the same time.

“All of dat,” he leans over Althea’s body, his dick in one hand and his other hand wrapped around her curly strands. Erik rubbed the wide tip of his dick against her clit before slowly entering Althea. She let out ragged breaths with her mouth unhinged. Erik licked and kissed all over Althea’s neck all while his hips were pistoning in and out of Althea’s pussy. The entire bed would moved, the brass headboard banging against the wall covered in elegant ornate French Victorian wallpaper that is a black and red color.

“Fuck, dis pussy is so tight,” He whispers.

“It’s so much dick, Master, so much dick!!!!” Althea pushes at Erik’s chest but he wasn’t going anywhere, “Jesus! it is filling me up!! unh, FUCK!”

“Ya better take all dis dick I’m giving ya girl,” He whispered to her, “Don’t run from me, I’ll hold ya down and fuck ya some more.”

Mama Dalma moaned from his words before bringing her fingers to her mouth to taste herself. With her spit covered fingers she rubs her clit, bringing one leg up so she could have a better reach. She could only imagine the pleasure Althea was experiencing. The more Erik fucked her the more possessive Mama Dalma became. Althea was taking all that dick, dick that belonged to Mama Dalma. Erik’s stroke was dangerous. The muscles in his back rippled and flexed each time he entered Althea.

“Ya making me cum again!” Althea twisted her head to the side, tears falling from her eyes, and moaning into the pillow beneath her, “UNH GOD!”

Erik’s inky black irises dilated when he saw Althea’s jugular vein protrude from her neck. While stroking her, Erik takes a single finger to trace her vein before extending his fangs from simply flexing his jaw, startling her by coming down on her with speed, his teeth sinking right into her vein. Like a pipe bursting, Althea’s blood spilled into Erik’s mouth. His eyes rolled and the grip he had on her hair became painful and uncomfortable. Her screams turned into scared cries as her hands attempted to push him off of her.

“Yes, feed, mi child!!! take her blood!!!” Mama Dalma felt overwhelming joy and lust instead of a building orgasm since she is the undead. Mama Dalma sucked the lubrication from her fingers before speeding over to the bed. She moves Erik’s dreadlocks out of the way so she could sink her teeth into Althea’s right breast. The fleshy area was like a cushion for Mama Dalma’s lips while she fed off of her. Althea could do nothing but cry. Erik continues to fuck her until his body tingled and the same overwhelming lust that Mama Dalma felt blasted through him. It was strange and intriguing to not ejaculate but still very powerful like an orgasm. It hit him so hard that the hand in Althea’s hair yanked some of her strands out. Blood began to soak the sheets and Althea’s body soon became lifeless.

“FUCK,” Erik stares at Althea’s dead body. Her blood was so rich and sweet Erik couldn’t help but to lick and suck on his fingers. His dick was standing straight up and pointed out with deep veins and a tight sack.

“I’m gonna suck and fuck deh sweet dick so good, Erik,” Mama Dalma grabs Erik’s dick, her fingers barely touching, “Oooh, it’s so damn thick.”

“I bet ya been wanting to suck dis dick for a long time...wut took ya so long? Huh?” He says with a sly smirk.

“Eva since I first laid eyes on yuh.”

Mama Dalma forces Erik to the bed with her superior strength. Erik’s fangs retracted instantly when Mama Dalma started stroking his dick. Erik hisses while taking his strong hand to rip Mama Dalma’s dress to shreds, revealing her toned body with small breasts. Mama Dalma lowered her head between Erik’s legs and with her superhuman strength and stamina, Mama Dalma tightened her jaws and bobbed her head expertly to fill her entire throat with his dick. She would suck him all the way down to the base and back up.

“Fuck, kenbe souse m’tankou sa,” Erik closes his eyes, “sa kaka santi li tèlman bon,” He spoke gruffly between moans. He was telling Mama Dalma how good it felt and that she needed to keep sucking on him. Erik felt a pinprick on the side of his shaft that made him bite down on his pouty bottom lip, drawing blood. Mama Dalma was tasting the blood from the throbbing and protruding veins of his meaty length. Erik instantly healed from her bite.

“Yuh are one sexy man, Erik, and yuh are mine. I always get wuh I want. I will take it by force if I have to. Deh dick is mine, yuh hear me? Alllllllllll Mine.”

Mama Dalma couldn’t be stopped the more she gave Erik fellatio. Suck long, suck hard, and suck often. That’s exactly what she will do every chance she gets. With Erik’s newfound strength, his dick was practically impenetrable; unyielding; tremendously solidified. That pleasure stick will have Mama Dalma feeling intimacy stronger than she ever did in her early vampire life. It was different at first for Mama Dalma to be sexual but not in a reproductive way. Since discovering Erik, she felt the strongest sexual lust in her 175 years of being a vampire. Mama Dalma mounted Erik speedily, grabbing his dick at the base before lowering herself on him.

None of the sex is quite as good as vampire sex, though, which can happen at the astonishing rhythm of 120 bpm while simultaneously devouring one’s neck and making your eyes roll back into your head. If they go from a base level, vampires create a hole in the neck where there wasn’t one before. It’s a devirginization—breaking the hymen, creating blood and then drinking the virginal blood. And there’s something sharp, the fang, which is probing and penetrating and moving into it which is pretty sexy.

As she bounced on his dick Erik fed from her neck, tasting the very blood that heightened the feeling like ecstasy. His strong, powerful hips met hers in sort of a race to see who was in charge. Mama Dalma clawed at Erik’s chest with her sharp nails, creating deep claw marks that healed instantly. Her nimble body moved at a swift speed above Erik causing him to grip her hips to try and keep her in place. They were fucking so hard and fast that the bed banged against the floor loudly. The mind-blowing passion was most exhilarating while feeding. It’s not simply “feeding” but it’s sex, breathing, having the best dinner you’ve ever had, feeling the life force of another filling you and making your flagging essence re-surge with vitality. It bolstered your sense of well-being as well as gave life to your body, mind, and demon spirit.

The sensation of feeding is akin to an orgasm, but even more powerfully so in some instances, particularly when properly hungry, which is why stopping can be an issue for vampires. That’s what Erik was experiencing. He lets out a guttural rasp, gasping for air until Mama Dalma finally stops. Erik sucked on her nipples and trailed kisses all over her flesh before forcing her head down so he could nibble on her lips with his fangs. Her moans were stuck in her throat the more Erik fed from her lips. She couldn’t get enough of it, and neither could he.

_____________________

After three months of torture, kill, and sex, Erik became concerned for his family’s welfare when a pox epidemic broke out. Just when he was finally accepting his vampire life, Erik was soon reminded of his mortal family and how they must be struggling to survive. Maybe the faith of the Vodou Religion kept them stable but this epidemic was killing hundreds of people. After Mama Dalma and Erik had sex at their home in the shack, Mama Dalma went to ground earlier and that gave Erik an opportunity to check in on his family. He speeds over to his forest home, peeking through the trees to see how things were. It was dark inside, almost lifeless. Erik became afraid and made the risky choice to approach the home. Out in the clearing now, Erik walked towards the home, nervous and afraid for his family to see him like this.

“Ricardo?! Ricardo se ke ou?!”

It was Justine, standing on the porch wearing a poor Victorian style dress made from cotton with her hair wrapped in a tigon. She looked exhausted with dark circles under her eyes. She was 30-years-old now, and his daughters would be 8-years-old. Fabiola’s birthday had just passed in August, she turned 56-years-old. All of the time had slipped away. Living as a vampire, time wasn’t important with the exception of when dawn was approaching. Justine had lost weight, her fullness that Erik loved no longer there.

“Kote ou te ye?!!” She yells while running down the front steps to their home. She wrapped her arms around Erik’s neck, pulling him down into a tight, suffocating hug. Erik’s nose landed in her hair and it smelled earthy, floral, sweet, and relaxing. This was the scent he remembered. It took all of his will power not to sink his teeth into her neck. They stayed like that for some time while she weeped into his cotton shirt.

“Ti fi Yo? Manman m?” Erik asks, pulling Justine away by her upper arms so that he could look at her. He asked where the girls and his mother were. Justine broke down crying again, her knees buckling. Erik held her tightly while a crease formed in his brow.

“Ricardo, ou ta dwe retounen!!!! Poukisa ou kite nou!!!!” Justine attempted to push Erik over and over but he wasn’t moving.

Hearing Justine refer to him as Ricardo felt strange. He almost forgot that was his birth name.

“I had to leave...for ya safety...dem white men would have killed all of ya.” Erik squeezed her tightly to calm her down.

“Fabiola...li mouri.” Justine’s voice was barely audible when she told him the news. Erik felt like he was dying all over again. Fabiola was dead.

“How?” He asks, holding back his tears.

“Fever... a year ago... couldn’t save her...she died in her sleep,” Justine’s words halted as she began to cry again, “Her last dyin’ wish was to see ya again but ya never came back!” Justine looked at him like she was looking at a stranger, “Ya look so different, Ricardo.”

“Da girls, Justine, I want to see dem,” Erik says.

“Ya too late,” Justine fought for oxygen in his arms.

Erik’s eyes grew wide and he stormed past Justine and into the house. There, lying in a coffin, was Rose Fabiola Dupoux and Felicie Ines Dupoux. They are dressed in cotton gowns, one purple and one pink with floral crowns and white dress shoes. Their coily hair is long and luscious, even in death. The last time he saw them they were five years old, running through the little garden in their yard, playing hide-n-seek. They were covered in pox that left nasty scars on their beautiful melanin skin. Erik couldn’t stop the bloody tears that began to flow. He walked up to their wooden coffins, his hands reaching out to touch them. Erik dropped to his knees, loud, uncontrollable sobs filling the room as his body shook.

“I tried, Ricardo...dere was nothin’ I could do,” Justine kneeled by his side, resting her head against his shoulder, “Dese precious girls…I prayed to Papa Ghede for help but nothing worked. I’ve exhausted all of my tears…I accept dat dem girls have to go...Marie is dead, ya mother is dead...I had no one to turn to.”

Erik stands, walking up to each of his daughters to place a final kiss to their heads. He felt disgusting. If he wouldn’t have chosen this life, he would have been here for his daughters, he would have been here for mother, and he would have been here to comfort his grieving wife. He couldn’t begin to understand what Justine was going through. She assumed that Erik had perished when he left their home to go with Augusto. Justine clings to Erik so tightly she was afraid he would slip through her fingers. Erik tried to hide his face from her but Justine’s delicate fingers smoothed his dreads from his face so that she could give him a kiss. It’s been three years.

“Ricardo, ya so cold,” She says before her eyes fell upon the bloody tears spilling from his eyes. Frightened, Justine practically leaps away from him before grabbing a shotgun that used to be Erik’s. She pointed it at Erik’s back with her shaky hands before cocking the gun.

“Who are ya?! Wut did ya do with my husband? Ya not Ricardo, ya are a demon!!!! A zombie!!!” Ricardo turns, his hands up in surrender. The blood tears made him look like a monster.

“Justine, it’s me...it’s Ricardo,” Erik walks towards her, “I won’t hurt ya. I just wanted to check on ya to make sure everything was fine. I can’t stay, not like dis-

“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!!!” Justine yells, “I WILL SHOOT YA!!!”

“Justine-

Pop!

Justine shoots Erik in the chest. He stumbles back with disbelief that she just shot him before his eyes went down to stare at his wound. The bullet wound healed immediately causing the bullet fragments to fall on the floor. Justine drops the gun, screaming at the top of her lungs while running towards the door.

“Justine! Wait!” Erik was right on her tail but his maker, Mama Dalma unexpectedly appeared at the door. She grabs Justine, pulling her towards her and holding her hostage with her hands, yanking the tigon from her head and grabbing her by her hair, pushing her down to her knees. Erik’s fangs extended, ready to attack Mama Dalma. Justine gawked at the sight of his fangs. She was ready to scream but Mama Dalma brought her to her feet speedily, wrapping a single hand around her neck.

“If yuh so much as scream, I will rip yuh throat out,” She spoke between clenched teeth before showing Justine her fangs, “I don’t care if yuh are Ricardo’s wife or not, I will FUCKIN’ kill yuh.” Mama Dalma snarled in Justine’s face, scaring her half to death. Justine was paralyzed with fear.

“Tia, let her go...now,” Erik says as anger stirred within him.

“Yuh planned on leaving mi? Erik?”

Panic surged through Justine, “Erik?! Who is Erik?!”

“Yuh hear deh? She wants to know who Erik is…tell her, Erik, tell her who deh is,” The corners of her mouth quirked up into an evil smile, “TELL HER!!!!”

“I’m Erik, Justine,” Erik spoke to Justine but his eyes were focused on Mama Dalma.

“So, if yuh Erik, why would Yuh come back after I told Yuh not to? Dis isn’t yuh life anymore. When yuh left yuh home that night, yuh left Ricardo behind.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Justine’s stomach clenched.

“Of course yuh wouldn’t understand, child, it’s alright, yuh won’t see Erik anymore after dis...Erik, yuh know wuh yuh have to do, right?”

“Tia-

“DO IT. It’s either deh, or I kill her.”

“I can’t do dat to her-

“So killin’ her is better? Fine,” Tia was on Justine fast, Feeding on her viciously from her neck. Justine’s throat tightened and she could no longer scream.

“STOP!” Erik speeds over to Mama Dalma only for her to push him off of the porch. Erik fell painfully against the ground.

“AS YUH MAKER-

“ENOUGH!!!” Erik yelled so loud his voice could probably be heard a mile away, “Awrite, I’ll do it...I’ll glamor her.”

Tia drops Justine carelessly, “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Justine’s body felt numb and the blood froze in her veins. Erik approached her, his eyes locking with hers, holding her gaze before finally connecting with her brain. Justine was transfixed under Erik’s spell. He tried to hold back his tears but they disobeyed him.

“Justine,” Erik strokes her face with his fingertips, “Ya never saw me, ya never saw her, I am dead, have been for da past three years. Ya will move on with ya life, start a new one hopefully because ya deserve it.”

“Yes,” Justine’s pensive eyed saddened Erik.

“Now, I want ya to go on upstairs and get some rest. Rose and Felicie will be buried in da St. Louis Cemetery. Ya can go visit dem anytime ya want.”

“I’d like that,” Justine says.

“I know, baby,” Erik kisses her forehead. He brings his fingertip to one of his fangs, pricking it before bringing it down to the bite mark on her neck, rubbing his blood into the wound to heal it, “Everything will be just fine.”

Erik stared at Justine one final time before she stood up, walking into the house and up the stairs. Erik’s temper sparked again when he noticed Mama Dalma smiling like the entire thing was a joke.

“If you would have killed her, I would have ripped ya fucking head off,” Erik says.

“With what strength more than mine? Yuh can be angry all yuh please but dis needed to be done. Now, yuh have no reason to come back here.”

“Ya evil, ya have no remorse, I’m exactly like ya. Didn’t care to check on my family, I let my manman die, my babies die, Nothin’ will change dat.” Erik was defeated.

“Like I told Yuh, yuh are a vampire now. Deh won’t EVER understand deh. Keep this up, and yuh will end up dead. If anotha vampire catches yuh acting weak deh will make an example out of yuh. It’s okay...I have a lot more to teach yuh. Now, let’s bury deh babies and leave for good. Deh is deh last time I’m telling yuh.”

“Erik Stevens,” A single bloody tear fell from Erik’s eye.

“When yuh bury deh babies, yuh burying Ricardo Dupoux. As yuh maker, I command yuh to never come back here, and never go back to deh cemetery. Do yuh hear mi, child?”

Erik simply nods his head before walking into his old home to grab the coffins that held his deceased daughters. What this vampire life has in store for him Erik could only hope it would get better.

#killmonger smut #Erik Killmonger #black panther killmonger #vampire #nahimjustfeelingit-writes

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brokehorrorfan · 4 years

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Robert Englund Talks True Terror

If anyone knows true terror, it's Robert Englund. The horror icon haunted a generation with his portrayal of Freddy Krueger in Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street and its seven sequels, in addition to appearing in an array of genre cult classics. His latest gig finds him not only without makeup but also without a character to embody, as he hosts Travel Channel's new series, True Terror with Robert Englund, in which he interweaves twisted tales guided by newspaper accounts, expert commentary, and reenactments. In his own words, Englund describes True Terror as "comfort food from the dark side," equal parts The Twilight Zone and Unsolved Mysteries with a dash of Dateline.

"I think what drew me to it is the challenge of being an on-camera host personality," he confesses. Indeed, Englund draws influence from Rod Serling and Robert Stack, in addition to tapping into flamboyant parts of his persona, citing Vincent Price and Klaus Kinski. "It’s not True Terror with Robert Englund pretending to be somebody else. But, there’s a bit - I don’t want to say an embellishment, but a little dusting of all of those influences on my choices when I host." He also mentions the difficulty of transitioning between the series' on-screen appearances and voice-over narration. "I don’t always see all of the images that they’re shooting because we’re working different schedules at different times... It might be a really gothic image; it might be something violent; it might be something lyrical and elegiac; so you have to make that transition and make those decisions. It’s kind of a challenge, but I like it."

Unlike many of the shows that came before it, True Terror is based on documented accounts rather than hearsay. "It’s something you can tune into and learn something dark from the sort of underbelly of the American psyche," notes Englund. "But all of the stories began as journalism. They began as newspaper articles. And that’s what I think distinguishes it from two guys in a Louisiana swamp seeing a UFO." The series' Bigfoot segment was verified by an unlikely corroborator: "Our source is Teddy Roosevelt, president of the United States, on a hunting party in Montana with Native American guides." Another stand-out story covered in the first season occurred during the smallpox epidemic. Englund explains, "I had no idea that there was some scam between coroners and the guys that drove the charity wagons to the cemetery, coffin makers, and the last buck stopping with the gravedigger. That, in fact, people were literally being buried alive for profit. And this is as recently as late last century."

If afforded the opportunity of another season of True Terror, Englund would love to explore serial killer H.H. Holmes, as detailed in Erik Larson's The Devil in the White City, which the host recently read. "It's about the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair, the Columbian Exposition, and simultaneously America’s first serial killer, who exploited the growth of the fair and the growth in the population in Chicago and the country girls coming to town for the fair. There’s some estimates that he may have killed up to 200 people." He'd also like to delve into more Native American folklore. "We touch on it in a couple of segments, but there’s some interesting stuff with that, even with Native Americans and Sasquatch or Native Americans and their own ghost stories."

Englund equates horror and true crime to a communal experience akin to church. "I think people loved sitting in the dark together and being frightened together, especially younger people, because the younger people think they’re going to live forever... The only time you really confront death now, unless you have a sick relative or a friend, is in a horror movie or the thriller or the serial killer film, because we have an identification with the potential victim, the person in jeopardy. We’re emotionally involved. We have empathy and catharsis with that, and we sit in the dark together and respond to that in the old movie theaters. And I think it was multiplied... We’re there on the couch with the lights dimmed down, sitting by the glow of the flat screen, and we do surrender to that identification with the jeopardy of whatever person is being threatened in a horror film. And I think we need that. I think it’s just our way of kind of a substitution for dealing with our own mortality."

Once afraid of snakes, Englund faced his fear when he acted with a baby albino python in 2000's Python, and he hasn't personally experienced any supernatural occurrences outside of déjà vu. "I’ve walked into rooms that I’ve dreamed of before I entered them. And it’s happened a couple of times, which is really strange." But his mother used to tell him a story about her own ghost encounter as a sorority girl during the Los Angeles flood of 1938. "There was a loud knocking at the door, and she opened it up, and one of the sorority girls came in all wet... My mom made her a cup of coffee, and they talked for a while." The girl indicated that she was going to a boarding house up the road to stay with a friend and then left. "The next morning, the police came to the sorority house, and they told them that they had found this girl’s body. But they had found it 36 hours before, which would have been about 12 to 15 hours before my mother made a cup of coffee for her. And my mother... she went back and found the coffee cup, and it had lipstick on it."

The opening story of True Terror's premier episode involves a familiar subject to Englund: the dream world. On the subject of Freddy Krueger becoming a part of modern folklore, the man behind the makeup expounds, "The whole concept of Nightmare on Elm Street is very symbolic. I think, basically, it’s loss of innocence in America. The one clue that nobody ever picks up on; Freddy has the line, 'Every town has an Elm Street.' Well, every town also has a Broadway and a Main Street and an Oak Street; but Elm Street’s also the street that JFK was assassinated on in Dallas. That’s sort of the beginning of our loss of innocence and our distrust of government and our group American paranoia, and Wes [Craven] was sort of turning that around and making that also the loss of innocence for a generation and, in particular, young women."

While it remains unknown if Englund will ever return to his iconic role of Freddy Krueger for one more film, the veteran actor teases an exciting upcoming role on a popular series. "I’ve got something coming up that I’m going to be shooting later this month. I’m not allowed to talk about it, but it also is very challenging, on a show that’s terribly, terribly popular. And I’m looking forward to the fan reaction to that as well." Until then, catch him on True Terror with Robert Englund, premiering this Wednesday, March 18, on Travel Channel.

#robert englund #true terror #freddy krueger #a nightmare on elm street #nightmare on elm street #true terror with robert englund #travel channel #trvl #interview #article #twilight zone #the twilight zone #unsolved mysters #horror

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kayteewritessteve · 5 years

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Secrets and Sins - 11/13

Description: You flee from an abusive situation and find yourself on the other side of the country, creating new friends and possibly finding new love. But will you be able to escape your past? To truly move on with your life? Or will everything come crashing down around you in the blink of an eye?

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 5,690 ish. Damn, she’s a big one!

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Descriptions of a car crash. Violence. Drinking. Curse words. Brief mentions of abusive behaviour, and moments of abuse—nothing to in depth but could be upsetting to some. Plus possible other triggering thoughts and feelings described.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

Tonight was the Gala, and you knew it would take you a little while to prepare for it—for whenever ‘it’ actually started? You paused midway through changing realizing you had no idea when you needed to be ready for. You finished undressing as you made a mental note to ask Steve when you’d be leaving.

After your shower, you blow dried your hair and left it down so it wouldn’t crinkle before you could have the chance to style it. You pulled on a pair if light wash jeans and a white tank top then headed for the kitchen to get some breakfast.

You entered the kitchen and found all the usual suspects standing around, talking amongst themselves.

“Morning,” you said as you walked over to the coffee maker to grab a cup.

“Morning,” they all said in unison.

Maria walked up next to you, “You excited for tonight?” She asked.

You poured the coffee into a mug, “Yeah, actually. Really excited.” You smiled.

“Do you have a dress for it?”

You laughed, “Oh! I totally forgot to tell you. I figured out what Steve’s question meant yesterday morning. Turns out he had Peggy pick up some dresses for me to try.”

She laughed, “That’s actually really sweet of him.”

“Right?” You added your cream and sugar, then took a sip to test out the ratios, they were perfect. “Really sweet.” You both walked to the other side of the kitchen, and through the open french doors to sit in the outside living area with your coffee, as the guys were talking loudly about this and that, and you both could barely hear your own thoughts over their school girl gossiping.

“He really likes you,” Maria mused, once you were both settled, and had taken a few sips of your coffee. Her eyes locked on you.

You figured you knew what she meant, but you questioned her anyways, “What do you mean?” You raised a questioning brow at her.

“I’ve never seen him like this with a woman before,” she paused, “or anyone, for that matter,” she added with a laugh.

Part of you felt like you should keep your feelings to yourself, at least the ones pertaining to Steve. But at the same time, who better to voice your concerns to, then a long time friend of his. Maybe she could ease your mind, even just a little.

“He makes me nervous,” you admitted then took another sip of your coffee.

She nodded, “I can understand that, he is in a pretty intimidating position. And with everything you have, and are going through, being wary of him is smart. Safe.” She took another sip, “But I have known Steve for years, since before Sarah died. He was a sweet kid, but her death changed him. And not for the better.“

“I know a little about her murder, but not much.”

She stared off at the backyard as she spoke, “There isn’t much to tell. She was murdered and it destroyed Steve. He fell into a really dark place, and pushed a lot of people away for years. His father's death always affected him, but when Sarah passed, it was like the final nail in the coffin. He snapped and we all didn’t think he’d ever come back from that.” She paused then turned to you, “that is, until he came home from Tony’s club one night, talking about a woman he met. Then as the days went on, he started to change more and more, in little ways. It was like he had started to find himself again.”

“Wait, are you saying that I had something to do with him finding himself again?” You furrowed your brows, confused.

“Honestly, yeah.” She shrugged, “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You bring something out in him. Something good. Something none of us have seen in him, in years.”

“Wow,” It was about all you could say to that.

She chuckled, “No pressure though, you have to do what you feel is right for yourself. And even if that isn’t to see where things go between the two of you, you started a shift in him and I know he will continue to find himself slowly, with or without you.” She nodded, as if she truly did believe what she was saying, and didn’t want you to feel obligated to stick around.

“I really like him, Maria. I do. But I just don’t know if I’m ready for all of this. I don’t know if I’ll be able to give him what he needs.” You paused to collect your scattered thoughts for a moment. “I don’t want to waste his time, just to figure out in a few short months that I wasn’t ready,” you said quietly.

“Y/N, he has been sitting, basically frozen in time for years. Unable to open up, unable to let anyone in, aside Bucky and Sam, until you came along. If you aren’t ready, that’s totally fine. Take the time you need, but I can almost guarantee he will be waiting when you finally are ready.”

“Really?” You asked sceptically. Why anyone would just wait around for someone was beyond you. Not when there are so many people in this world to choose from.

“Really,” she affirmed, “you’re different to him. And I can see it in your eyes when you look at him, that he is different to you as well.” She smirked as you started to blush a little from her words.

“He is,” you said softly as you took another sip of your coffee. “Which scares the fucking shit out of me,” you added.

“I bet,” she laughed. “This sort of thing doesn’t happen to everyone,” she said nonchalantly, and just like that you were confused again.

“What do you mean ‘this sort of thing’?”

“Love at first sight,” she said calmly, matter of factly.

Jesus christ. No. There is no such thing as love at first sight— your mind halted as it drifted back to that night at the club. The instant connection you felt and the draw to him. How he flustered you and left you speechless. Which had never happened to you before. At least not the first time you’d ever met anyone. Could it have been love at first sight? Did that even actually exist? Here you had made yourself believe true love was just a fairytale, made up for little girls. That it didn’t exist in the real world. But. But, Steve sort of proved otherwise. Or rather, how he had made you feel from the first moment, proved otherwise. Now you were even more confused than before. Had you really been so jaded by what he did to you, that you forced yourself to ignore all the signs. Forced yourself to believe they weren’t there and pretend they didn’t exist. Fuck. What if they do? What if true love is real? “Shit,” you mumbled.

Maria burst out laughing, “Wait, please tell me that you didn’t just clue into this now?”

You scrunched up your nose, “Maybe..?”

“Oh my, you both are hopeless,” she muttered and shook her head, “If it wasn’t for Bucky and I, neither of you would even be here right now.”

“Bucky? What does he have to do with this?”

“He has been pressing Steve about you this whole time. Trying to help him realize just how much he likes you, and to ask you out. It wasn’t that hard to accomplish though, I clearly had the tougher mission with you,” she laughed again.

“Wait, how did you know how I felt about him?”

“Seriously?” She deadpanned, “I followed you around for days, Y/N. I saw the changes in your moods between when you’d see Steve, versus a few days without seeing him. It was written all over your face,” she gestured to your face and smirked.

“So basically I’m a fucking open book, is what you’re saying?”

“Yup,” She nodded again, “At least to the rest of us, you are. Maybe not so much to yourself though,” she laughed.

“Good to know,” you mumbled and laughed as well.

“It’s not a bad thing, Y/N. Maybe something in you just knew he’d play some role in your life. Even before your mind figured that out.” She shrugged, “most people don’t believe in soulmates, but I do. There may not be some tattoo on your skin, or timer counting down to the day you’ll meet, but I have to believe something in us just knows when we have found our match.”

You were completely stunned by her words. Your mind was silent for once, which—wasn’t a normal occurrence, at all. She just watched you as you slowly let her words sink in, but before either of you could say anything more her phone rang, and she got up to head back into the house, “sorry, Y/N. I have to take this, but I’ll see you later,” she called as she disappeared through the french doors.

You replied with a dazed, “Yup, see ya.”

Then you just continued to sit there, drinking your coffee in complete silence, just mulling over Maria’s words. You didn’t believe in Fated love, or soulmates, but at the same time you couldn’t really explain how you’d felt since meeting Steve. You’d never felt this deeply about anyone this fast, or maybe even ever? You still were not ready to jump in head first, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited for tonight, and maybe even for the future. Though you did still need some time to come to terms with everything. To decide what you truly wanted. On your own.

You pulled out your phone and opened up a text window to Steve, typing, ‘Hey, when are we leaving for the Gala tonight?’

Your phone pinged almost instantly with, ‘5 pm. I can’t wait to see the dress you picked out.’

You smiled at that then replied, ‘Hopefully you like it.’

Another instant ping, ‘It will be on you, there is no way I won’t like it.’

You laughed and shook your head, quickly replying, ‘You’re pretty smooth, huh?’

*ping* ‘Sometimes ;) See ya at 5 in the front foyer.’

Did he just send you a wink emoji? You laughed, ‘Yes, see ya then.’

You stood up and headed back into the house, you made your way into the kitchen again and put your mug in the dishwasher, then headed for your room. You had some time to kill before you had to get ready and figured you’d take this time to unpack your clothes.

Unpacking took no time at all, as you didn’t have many clothes to put away. You spent some time texting with Wanda and Nat, creating a group chat just to make keeping in contact easier. Then watched a few youtube videos in the hopes they would make the time fly by. It didn’t work. This day was dragging on and on, and you figured it was because you were both nervous and excited for tonight.

After hours of basically just killing time, it was finally 3pm and you decided it was now an acceptable time to start getting ready. You spent a while on curling your hair and putting it in a fancy updo that framed your face just right. And decided to keep your makeup neutral, and your not gonna lie, it turned out better than it ever had before. You looked flawless, if you were being honest with yourself.

You walked into the closet and took the garment bag back into your bedroom, unzipping it and pulling the dress out. You laid it on the bed then moved over to the dresser to grab the undergarments you figured would work best with your dresses cut and lines.

Once you were all dressed, you checked the time on your phone. 4:50pm. You had 10 minutes, so you went into the bathroom again to give yourself one final look over. Realizing instantly that you had picked the right dress, it fit you in all the right places and the colour suited your skin tone perfectly. You grabbed the heels Peggy had given you to pair with your dress, sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on. Then you grabbed your clutch and put your necessities into it. Phone, makeup, identification and a few other odds and ends. Then you made your way to the stairs. Shutting your bedroom door as you exited the room.

From the top of the stairs you saw Steve near the front door, his back to you, with Bucky, Sam and the others. Clearly the whole gang was tagging along. And everyone looked amazing. All the guys were in fitted tuxedos, and boy, did they all clean up well. Maria was in a beautiful midnight blue, floor length gown, nothing to fancy, but it suited her perfectly.

As you descended the stairs Bucky and Sam looked up, and their eyes widened comically upon seeing you. It took everything in you to not laugh at the awestruck look on their faces. But then you saw Steve start to slowly turn around, most likely due to the look on his friends faces.

The second he saw you his jaw damn near hit the ground. As you reached the bottom of the stairs his eyes swept over you, from head to toe, and then locked onto your eyes as he just stood there. You couldn’t tell if he was frozen in place or just allowing you to come to him. You hoped for the former.

You walked up to him, standing in front of him now. But he still hadn’t utteres a word, so you smirked then took it upon yourself to speak first. As clearly he wasn’t going to. “You look really handsome, Steve,” you confessed, as your hand moved up to adjust one of his lapels that was sitting weirdly. Once you had corrected it, you tilted your head up and locked eyes with him again. Not missing the giant gulp he took as his blue eyes stared down at you, just watching you.

He shook his head lightly, as if trying to clear his thoughts then he awkwardly cleared his throat and spoke, “You look…” but it wasn’t for long, as he trailed off and took a step back to give you one more once over, before he damn near growled out, “stunning.”

You watched as his beautiful blues darkened with every passing second. Which caused your smile to grow, “Thank you, I’m glad you like my choice.”

“Like it?” He shook his head again, then stepped closer and whispered so just you could hear him, “Like isn’t the right word. More like blown away by it. Fantastic choice, doll.”

The pet name was new, and slightly out of the blue, but you liked it. A lot, actually. It made the pop rocks in your stomach return, and the heat rise in your cheeks, but luckily someone spoke up before you even had to attempt to form any words in this moment.

“Alright lovebirds, let’s get this show on the road or we will never get out of here,” Sam groaned, playfully, and Steve snapped his head around. You couldn’t see Steve’s face but you had a hunch he was currently giving Sam a wicked glare. And Sam's smug smirk in return only confirmed that thought.

You laughed. “Yes, Let’s,” you said as you headed for the door, realizing instantly that your body was no longer moving forwards. You looked down and saw two large hands on either side of your waist.

“Nu uh,” you heard him say in your ear, “That’s not how this works.” He gently pulled you back then spun you slightly to offer you his arm. You laughed and accepted it, then he walked you towards the front door, opening it for you.

You both exited the house and everyone followed behind. There were a few different expensive cars parked outside and Steve walked you over to a black Tesla sedan, opening the door for you again and offering you a hand to help you in. He closed the door and walked around the car to get into the driver's seat.

Once he was all seated and set, his eyes flicked over to you, and you watched as they lowered. However, this time you knew exactly what he was looking at. This time you had been one step ahead, and already had your seatbelt on. A smile spread across his handsome face the second this eyes met yours again, and he saw the knowing look you were now giving him. Then he laughed and started up the car.

The drive wasn’t too long, you pulled up to the venue and the valet took Steve’s keys as he walked around the car to open your door. You didn’t even attempt to get out on your own, as you knew he’d never let you open your own door. Not tonight, at least. So you just admitted defeat where doors were concerned.

He led you into a building and down a hall to the left, stopping in front of two large ornate ivory doors. He looked down at you, “ready?” He asked as he put his hand on your lower back, the warmth of it sending a shiver up your spin.

You quickly nodded, “I am.” Then two men pushed open the doors for you, and you both entered the massive ballroom that was full of people. Woman in beautiful gowns and men in handsome tuxedos. Your eyes travelled the room and landed on two familiar figures off to the side.

Peggy and Sharon. Both of them having severely differing reactions to you and Steve's entrance. Peggy had a giant smile on her face and gave you an appraising nod. Where as Sharon was once again glaring daggers at you, arms crossed and you could almost hear the displeased tapping of her foot on the floor.

You smiled sweetly at her and winked, then turned your attention back to Steve as he led you off in the other direction.

As you both approached a large group of people, a slightly older man with facial hair, in a gloriously tailed suit emerged from the group. Arms outstretched as he approached you both, with a smug smirk on his lips, “you’re finally here. Took you long enough.”

Steve just chuckled and shook his head, then they both shared a fond hug. You could tell they were either really close or had known each other for a long time. Or probably both. “Sorry Ton’s, traffic and all that.”

“Don’t lie, we both know it was probably Buck and Sam’s fault, those guys spend way to much time fixing their hair. Especially since one of them barely has any,” he chuckled and then his eyes landed on you, giving you a very unsubtle once over. Before he glanced back up at Steve, giving him a look.

The aforementioned quickly cleared his throat, “Tony, this is Y/N. Y/N—“

“Tony Stark,” he cut Steve off and stuck his hand out to you, “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot.” He shot Steve a smug smirk then winked at you.

You laughed and shook his hand, “all good things, I hope.”

“The best,” he nodded, “and you’ve lived up to them so far, this dress is a show stopper,” he paused, then added, “Amazing choice.” And though the last part was said to you, the quick approving glance he gave Steve told you it was actually directed at Steve. Which caused the heat to rise in your cheeks, then you snuck a peek up at Steve, and saw the glorious smile now on his face at Tony’s clear approval of you. Tony obviously meant a lot to Steve, or at least his opinions did. Tony offered you his arm, “come dear, let me introduce you to some people so Steve can mingle.”

You looked up at Steve, and he gave you an approving nod to go with Tony. “I’ll find you shortly,” he whispered to you. Confirming in your mind that he trusted Tony and you figured by ‘mingle’ he actually meant talk business, and that they didn’t want you subjected to that tonight. You nodded and accepted Tony’s outstretched arm, allowing him to lead you off into the party.

You both chatted about the Gala and why it was being held. Turns out Tony does these a few times a year, raising money for different charities in the New York area. As his way to give back to the city that gave him everything, as he put it. He introduced you to lots of people, most of which whose names you couldn’t remember after a few minutes. But you did remember Pepper, Rhodey and Happy. Pepper being Tony’s better half as he said and the other two being his long time best friends. He told you a little bit about Steve’s parents, not much, just a vague outline on his connection to them both, and how he stepped in to handle things till Steve was old enough to take over.

As you were standing with Tony and the others, you noticed Bucky entering late. Not even realizing he hadn’t arrived with you all. But the stunning redhead on his arm, in a gorgeous floor length black fitted gown, told you exactly where he’d been. You excused yourself from the group, telling Tony you were just going to see Bucky and Nat when he gave you a questioning look. Which then changed into a smile as he nodded in understanding.

You made your way towards the pair, and as soon as you got close, Nat noticed you and her eyes went wide. She quickly made her way towards you and you both hugged, “I missed you!” She whispered.

“I missed you too, it’s so nice to have a familiar face here,” you whispered back as you both pulled out of the hug, “you look absolutely radiant, Nat.”

She held your arm out to get a look at you then grinned, “you’re one to talk. Look at this dress!” She said excitedly, then winked, “you clean up well, Y/L/N.”

You both laughed and then you felt a large hand on your lower back, turning to see a familiar set of piercing blue eyes, smiling down at you. And a quick glance passed him showed Sam had also joined your little group as well, then he pulled Nat in for a giant bear hug shouting about how much he missed her. To which she swatted him off after a moment, causing you all to laugh.

Steve then tore his eyes away from you and exchanged pleasant hello’s with Nat, though you could tell she was wary of him at first. But that quickly changed and she started to relax more and more, as the conversation continued on.

After a little while she leaned towards you, whispering, “powder break?”

You nodded and then you both excused yourselves, saying you’d be right back. You linked arms and headed towards the bathroom, and the second you were in it, she turned to you, “holy shit, what did you do to him?”

You laughed, “honestly, nothing.”

“Bullshit,” she shook her head, “that’s the Steve I remember from when we were kids. It’s like he never changed. It’s really tripping me out.”

“Maria mentioned that he’d been slowly changing back since we met, but this is just how he has been towards me since we met.” You shrugged, “so I obviously don’t see a difference.” You paused, “I mean, not that much of a difference, anyway.”

“Well, keep it up, girly,” she smiled, “I like the Steve he is when you’re around.”

You furrowed your brows slightly before you could stop yourself, then quickly nodded and turned towards the mirror to check yourself out. Making sure your hair and makeup still looked good, and was in place.

“Y/N?” She asked quietly.

“Hmm?” You hummed in reply as you wiped a finger under your eye to clean up some fallen mascara.

“Are you okay? Are you happy?”

You thought it over for a second, then sighed, “I’m okay.” You turned to look at her, “and yeah, I’m happy,” you trailed off.

“But?” She coaxed softly.

“But I’m just scared.” You whispered, “everyone keeps telling me how much he has changed since I showed up. And I’m so happy about that, truly, but that’s also a huge burden to put on someone. What if I fuck up? What if I’m not ready for this and I pull back, and that causes him to go back to what he was before? Closed off and angry.” You sighed, “it’s just a lot.”

She gently took your hand, “Y/N, do you wanna know what I see?”

You nodded and she continued, “Steve isn’t the only one who has changed for the better. You have also changed, a lot, but in good ways. You really started to come out of your shell after you met him, you were more relaxed, calm even. I mean, yeah, you were wary of him at first—Still are. But even in your day to day when he wasn’t present, you smiled more genuinely, you laughed more unabashedly. You changed in so many beautiful ways, Y/N. Now I don’t know what you were running from, but I can guess it wasn’t pretty. However, both Wanda and I have watched you slowly transform in front of our eyes.” She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, “so if you aren’t ready for this, then tell him. If you want to take things slow, then do that. You have every right to choose how this all plays out, so do that.” She smiled, “But I can promise you this, the Steve I saw around you, the one that only you seems to bring out of him, he would never hurt you. Nor would he ever let anyone else hurt you.”

You nodded and felt the tears pricking your eyes, she quickly handed you a tissue, and you dabbed the tears away before they could fall, and ruin your makeup. “Thank you, Nat,” you whispered.

“Don’t mention it, Wanda and I are always here for you, you know that.” She released your hand and pulled you into a quick hug, which you returned and then she pulled back, “But I say we go back out there and enjoy ourselves, we deserve that.”

“That we do,” you smirked.

“Plus someone has to keep an eye on those silly boys,” she added with an eye roll as you both exited the bathroom, causing you to laugh.

You both re-joined the group, Steve's hand finding your lower back almost instantly, as he leaned down to whisper just to you, “everything okay?”

You nodded and smiled up at him, your talk with Nat put your mind more at ease. Not fully, but hearing someone you truly trusted telling you to just let it play out, and to put your foot down when you needed to, really did help. “Yes, everything is good.”

He smiled back and then you focused back on the conversations happening around you both.

The rest of the night flew by, as Steve introduced you to more people, while he made his rounds. He stayed right by your side from that point on—well, minus the odd time when he’d need to sneak off to talk business, but he’d always leave you with either Maria, or Nat and Bucky during those moments. And every time he’d come right back and find you, instantly. You both danced, a lot. And you had a bit to drink, though not enough to make you a blubbering mess, as that just wasn’t you, but enough to keep a slight buzz the whole night. Which was nice. Helped you to relax and miggle a little more.

However, as the night continued on, you found your feet were now starting to kill and your eyelids were becoming heavy. You tried to hide it from Steve but then you yawned, for like the tenth time, and attempted to conceal it behind your hand, yet again. Praying Steve wouldn’t notice, as you weren’t quite ready for this wonderful night to end. But when your eyes opened back up after the yawn, you saw his handsome blues staring down at you. A knowing look on his face. Shit. You’d been caught.

He excused you both from the few people you’d been talking to, then led you to a quiet corner of the ballroom. Once you were alone he spoke, “You’re tired.” But it wasn’t a question.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine for a little longer,” you tried to assure him but another yawn betrayed you. Fuck.

He smiled, “Y/N, you’re clearly tired, why don’t we get Maria to take you home. I’d take you myself but I have a few other matters I need to attend to before I can leave. And I don’t know exactly how long those will take.”

“Are you sure? You don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all, I had the most beautiful woman in the room, on my arm all night. I’d say this night turned out better than I could have ever imagined,” he smirked down at you, then looked up and around the room before lifting the arm you weren’t holding and gesturing to someone.

You could feel the heat rising in your face at his words. As your heart began to flutter. Maria quickly approached you both ,“Boss. Y/N.” she nodded to each of you as she addressed you both.

“Maria, would you mind taking Y/N home for me.”

“Of course, Boss.”

Maria took off to get the car as Steve led you off to say your goodbyes to everyone, then walked you out of the ballroom and into the main hallway, heading towards the front entrance. But before he opened the doors he gently took his arm back from you and removed his tux jacket then wrapped it around your shoulders.

Once it was secured he looked you over and then smirked, before pushing the door open for you both to exit the building. You glanced down and realized what he was smirking at, you were damn near swimming in his large tux jacket. And you giggled lightly at that.

You both walked down the stairs to wait for Maria. Steve pulled you in under his arm and close to his body to help keep you warm as you waited. The heat from his body engulfed you and you never wanted him to let you go.

“Thank you, Steve,” you said contently from your spot tucked into his side.

“For?” He asked, confusion in his voice at the random praise.

“For everything. For protecting me. Taking me into your home. Being so sweet and patient with me,” you tilted your head to look up at him, “And for tonight, I had a wonderful time.”

Maria pulled up just then in a blacked out Mercedes, and you begrudgingly untucked yourself from his side and took a step back, you removed his jacket and passed it back to him, “And also thank you for the jacket.” You giggled, sleepily, just as another yawn started, you raised your hand to cover it.

“Okay, sleepyhead, let’s get you in the car so we can get you home and in bed,” he laughed as he reached down and opened the door for you, once again. But before you could climb in he took your hand and you paused, looking back at him. He raised it up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles. He then helped you into the car with the same hand.

Once you were seated he just stood there and stared at you. Then his eyes narrowed and you asked, “What?”

“Belt,” he commanded.

You laugh at the realization that you had forgotten this time, “Shit.” You quickly looked around for the seatbelt, finding it tucked into the seat. Grabbing it then clicking it in, “Better?”

“Much,” he said then his face instantly softened again, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Steve,” you replied, and with that he shut the door, and you heard him hit the roof 2 times. Signalling to Maria that you were good to go. She took the signal and the car started to move.

After a little while you were back on the main road heading towards Steve's house. “How was your night, Y/N?” Maria asked as she glanced into the rearview mirror at you.

You smiled just thinking about it, then you sighed out happily as you looked out the window, “Amazing.”

You heard her chuckle lightly, “Glad to hear it.”

The car continued down the road, then entered into an intersection and everything slowed down. Instantly.

At first you didn’t realize what was going on. You heard the loud rev of an engine and then felt your body jerk violently to the right, into the car door, your head hit the window, as your arms flopped around in the air. Before they smashed back down into your body, only to then repeat the action a few more times.

The sounds while this was all unfolding were so loud, so deafening. First the rev, then a bone crushing crunch, followed by metal on metal screeching all around you, for what felt like minutes but was probably only mere seconds. The tinted windows all spidered but luckily didn’t blow out.

But it wasn’t until everything halted, all the movements and noise came to a grinding halt, that you realized what had happened.

You’d been hit, and fucking hard. Clearly the car had rolled a few times. How many? You couldn’t be sure. But what you did know, was you were now dangling upside down, still belted into your seat. The car coming to rest on its roof.

Leaving you extremely dazed and confused, as your mind tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. But you were unaware of the true danger you were in. Oblivious to what was about to happen next. Your safe little life was about to shatter around you, and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do to stop it.

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@hopefulmoonobject @harlequinash @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills

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katurrade · 5 years

Text

Secrets and Sins 12

This is not your normal TRR story. This is a complete AU. A mobster AU. It’s also written in a reader format, not a MC format. (Y/N = Your Name. Y/L/N = Your Last Name) Enjoy!

Word Count: 3,840 ish.

Pairing: Mobster!Liam x Reader.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Violence. Drinking. Curse words. Possible NSFW content in later chapters. Flashbacks of abusive behaviour, and moments of abuse. Possible triggering thoughts, feelings and moments. Accounts of an accident. Probably more warnings to come.

A/N: *throws canon out the damn window* YEET.

Alright guys and gals, this is the second to last chapter of this series. There will only be one other chapter after this one, plus the epilogue! Thank you all so much for the continued love and support of both myself and this series! Lot’s more fun full TRR AU’s in the works for you guys, the next one i’ll start posting in about a week or two. So stay tuned! And enjoy!!

You woke up bright and early, again. Feeling just as relaxed and calm as the morning before. Maybe even more this time, now that you were starting to feel more at home here. More settled. You stretched and yawned then pulled yourself, reluctantly out of bed. Padding to the bathroom to throw yourself in a much needed shower. Tonight was the Gala and you knew it would take you a little while to prepare for it, whenever it actually started. You paused midway through changing realizing you had no idea when you needed to be ready for. You finished undressing as you made a mental note to ask Liam when the function was.

After your shower, you blow dried your hair and left it down so it wouldn’t crinkle before you could have the change to style it. You pulled on a pair if light wash jeans and a white tank top then headed for the kitchen to get some breakfast. You entered the kitchen and found all the usual suspects standing around talking amongst themselves. “Morning” you said as you walked over to the coffee maker to grab a cup.

“Morning” they all said in unison.

Mara walked up next to you “You excited for tonight?” She asked.

You poured the coffee into a mug “Yeah, actually. Really excited.” You smiled.

“Do you have a dress for it?”

You laughed “Oh! I totally forgot to tell you. I figured out what Liam’s question meant yesterday morning. Turns out he had Regina pick up some dresses for me to pick from.”

She laughed “That’s actually really sweet of him.”

“Right?” You added your cream and sugar, then took a sip to test out the ratios, they were perfect. “Really sweet.” You both walked to the other side of the kitchen and through the open french doors to sit in the outside living area with your coffee, as the guys were talking loudly about this and that, and you both could barely hear your own thoughts over their school girl gossiping.

“He really likes you.” Mara mused as she took a sip of her coffee. Her eyes locked on you.

You heard her, but you questioned what she meant anyways “What do you mean?” You raised a questioning brow at her.

“I’ve never seen him like this with a woman before,” she paused “Or anyone for that matter.” She added with a laugh.

Part of you felt like you should keep your feelings to yourself, at least the ones pertaining to Liam. But at the same time, who better to voice your concerns to, then a long time friend of Liams. Maybe she could ease your mind, even just a little.

“He makes me nervous.” you admitted then took a sip of your coffee.

She nodded “I can understand that, he is in a pretty intimidating position. And with everything you have, and are going through, being wary of him is smart. Safe.” She took another sip “But I have known Liam for years, since before his mother died. He was a sweet kid, but her death changed him. And not for the better.“

“I know a little about his mothers murder, not much though.”

She stared off at the backyard as she spoke “There isn’t much to tell. She was murdered and it destroyed Liam. He fell into a really dark place and pushed a lot of people away for years. Then Connie died and it was like the final nail in the coffin. He snapped and we all didn’t think he’d ever come back from that.” She paused then turned to you “That is, until he came home from Leo’s club one night, talking about a woman he met. Then as the days went on, he started to change more and more. It was like he had started to find himself again.”

“Wait, are you saying that I had something to do with him finding himself again?” You furrowed your brows, confused.

“Honestly, yeah.” She shrugged “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You bring something out in him. Something good. Something none of us have seen in him in years.”

“Wow.” It was about all you could say to that.

She chuckled “No pressure though, you have to do what you feel is right for yourself. And even if that isn’t to see where things go between you both, you started a shift in him and I know he will continue to find himself slowly, with or without you.” She nodded, as if she truly did believe what she was saying.

“I really like him, Mara. I do. But I just don’t know if I am ready for anything. I don’t know if I’ll be able to give him what he needs.” You paused to collect your scattered thoughts for a moment “I don’t want to waste his time, just to figure out in a few months that I wasn’t ready.” You said quietly.

“Y/N, he has been sitting basically frozen in time for years. Unable to open up, unable to let anyone in, aside from Drake, until you came along. If you aren’t ready, that’s totally fine. Take the time you need, but I can almost guarantee he will be waiting when you finally are ready.”

“Really?” You asked sceptically. Why anyone would just wait around for someone was beyond you. Not when there are so many people in this world.

“Really.” She affirmed “You’re different to him. And I can see it in your eyes when you look at him, that he is different to you as well.” She smirked as you started to blush a little from her words.

“He is.” You said softly as you took another sip of your coffee. “Which scares the fucking shit out of me.” You added.

“I bet.” She laughed “This sort of thing doesn’t happen to everyone.” She said nonchalantly, and just like that you were confused again.

“What do you mean ‘this sort of thing’?”

“Love at first sight.” She said, matter of factly.

Jesus christ. No. There is no such thing as love at first sight— your mind halted as it drifted back to that night at the club. The instant connection you felt and the draw to him. How he flustered you and left you speechless. Which had never happened to you before. At least not the first time you’d ever met anyone. Could it have been love at first sight? Did that actually exist? Here you had made yourself believe true love was just a fairytale made up for little girls. That it didn’t exist in the real world. But. But, Liam proved otherwise. Or rather, how he had made you feel from the first moment, proved otherwise. Now you were even more confused then before. Had you really been so jaded by what he did to you, that you forced yourself to ignore all the signs. Forced yourself to believe they weren’t there and pretend they didn’t exist. Fuck. What if they do? What if true love is real? “Shit.” you mumbled.

Mara burst out laughing “Wait, please tell me that you didn’t just clue into this all?”

You scrunched up your nose “Maybe..?”

“Oh my, you both are hopeless.” She shook her head “If it wasn’t for Drake and I, neither of you would even be here right now.”

“Drake? What does he have to do with this?”

“He has been pressing Liam about you the whole time. Trying to help him realize just how much he likes you. And to ask you out. It wasn’t that hard to accomplish though, I clearly had the tougher mission with you.” She laughed again.

“Wait, how did you know how I felt about him?!”

“Seriously?” She deadpanned “I followed you around for days, Y/N. I saw the changes in your moods between when you’d see Liam versus a few days without seeing him. It was written all over your face.” She smirked.

“So basically I’m a fucking open book, is what you’re saying?”

“Yup.” She nodded again “At least to the rest of us, you are. Maybe not so much to yourself though.” She laughed.

“Good to know.” You laughed as well.

Then Mara’s phone rang and she got up to head back into the house to take it “I’ll see you later.” She called as she headed in. You replied with “Yup, see ya!”

You sat there in complete silence for a bit, just mulling over Mara’s words. You still were not ready to jump in head first, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited for tonight, and maybe even for the future. But you did still need some time to come to terms with everything. To decide what you truly wanted.

You pulled out your phone and opened up a text window to Liam, typing ‘Hey, when are we leaving for the Gala tonight?’ Your phone pinged almost instantly with ‘5 pm. I can’t wait to see the dress you picked out.’ You smiled at that then replied ‘Hopefully you like it.’ Another instant ping ‘It will be on you, there is no way I won’t like it.’ You laughed and shook your head ‘You’re pretty smooth, huh?’ You replied and your phone went off again ‘Sometimes ;) See you at 5 in the foyer.’ Did he just send you a wink emoji? You laughed ‘See ya then.’

You stood up and headed back into the house, you made your way into the kitchen again and put your mug in the dishwasher then headed for your room. You had some time to kill before you had to get ready and figured you’d take this time to unpack your clothes.

Unpacking took no time at all as you didn’t have many clothes to put away. You spent some time texting with Hana. And watched a few youtube videos in the hopes they would make the time fly by. It didn’t work. This day was dragging on and on, and you figured it was because you were both nervous and excited for tonight.

After hours of basically just killing time, it was finally 3pm and you decided it was now an acceptable time to get ready. You spent a while on curling your hair and putting it in a fancy up-do that framed your face. Your makeup was neutral and flawless. You walked into the closet and took the garment bag back into your bedroom, unzipping it and pulling the dress out. You laid it on the bed then moved over to the dresser to grab the undergarments you figured would work best with your dresses cut and lines.

Once you were all dressed, you checked the time on your phone. 4:50pm. You had 10 minutes, so you went into the bathroom again to give yourself one final look over. Realizing instantly that you have picked the right dress, it fit you in all the right places and the colour suited your skin tone perfectly. You grabbed the heels Regina had given you to pair with your dress, sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on. Then you grabbed your clutch and put your necessities into it. Phone, makeup, identification and a few other odds and ends. Then you made your way to the stairs. Shutting your bedroom door as you exited the room.

From the top of the stairs you saw Liam near the front door, his back was to you, with Drake and the others. Clearly the whole gang was tagging along. And everyone looked amazing. All the guys were in fitted tuxedos and boy, did they all clean up well. Mara was in a beautiful black floor length gown, nothing to fancy, but it suited her perfectly.

As you descended the stairs Drake looked up and his eyes widened upon seeing you. It took everything to not laugh at the awestruck look on his face. But then you saw Liam start to turn around, most likely due to the look on Drakes face.

You walked up to him, standing in front of him now. But he still hadn’t said a word so you smirked then took it upon yourself to speak first. As clearly he wasn’t going to. “You look really handsome, Liam.” You confessed as your hand moved up to adjust one of his lapels that was sitting weirdly. Once you had corrected it, you tilted your head up and looked him in the eye again. Not missing the giant gulp he took as his blue eyes stared down at you, watching you.

He shook his head lightly, as if trying to clear his thoughts then he awkwardly cleared his throat and spoke “You look...” but it wasn’t for long as he trailed off and took a step back to give you one more look over and damn near growled out “stunning.”

You watched as his beautiful blues darkened with every passing second. You smiled “Thank you, I’m glad you like my choice.”

“Like it?” He shook his head again, then stepped closer and whispered so just you could hear him “Like isn’t the right word. More like blown away by it. Amazing choice, Y/N.”

“Alright lovebirds, let’s get this show on the road or we will never get out of here.” Drake groaned and Liam snapped his head around. You couldn’t see Liam’s face but you had a hunch he was currently giving Drake a wicked glare. And Drakes smug smirk in return confirmed that thought.

You laughed “Yes, Let’s.” You said as you headed for the door, releasing instantly that your body was no longer moving forwards. You looked down and saw two large hands on either side of your waist “Nu uh.” You heard him say in your ear “That’s not how this works.” He gently pulled you back then spun you slightly and offered you his arm. You laughed and accepted it then he walked you towards to front door, opening it for you. You both exited the house and everyone followed behind. There were a few different cars parked outside and Liam walked you over to one, opening the door for you again and offering you a hand to help you in. He closed the door and walked around the car to get into the drivers seat.

Once he was all seated and set, his eyes flicked over to you, and you watched as they lowered. However, you knew this time exactly what he was looking at. This time you had been one step ahead and already had your seatbelt on. A smile spread across his face the second this eyes met yours again, and he saw the knowing look you were now giving him. Then he laughed and started the engine.

The drive wasn’t long, you pulled up to the venue and the valet took Liams keys as he walked around the car to open your door. You didn’t even attempt to get out on your own as you knew he’d never let you open your own door. Not tonight at least. So you just admitted defeat where doors were concerned.

He led you into the giant building and down a hall to the left, stopping in front of two large ornate ivory doors. He looked down at you “Ready?” He asked.

You nodded “I am.” Then he pushed open the doors and you both entered the massive ballroom that was full of people. Woman in beautiful gowns and men in handsome tuxedos. Your eyes travelled the room and landed on two familiar figures off to the side.

Regina and Madeleine. Both of them having very different reactions to you and Liams entrance. Regina had a giant smile on her face and gave you an appraising nod. Where as Madeleine was once again glaring daggers at you, arms crossed and you could almost hear the displeased tapping of her foot on the floor.

You smiled sweetly at her and winked then turned your attention back to Liam as he led you off in the other direction. The night flew by, Liam introduced you to everyone he talked to, he stayed by your side almost the whole night but the odd time he’d need to sneak off to talk business so he’d leave you with Mara during those moments. And every time he’d come back and find you instantly. You both danced, a lot. And you had a bit to drink, though not enough to make you a blubbering mess, but enough to keep a slight buzz the whole night.

As the night continued on, you found your feet were now starting to kill you and your eyelids were becoming heavy. You tried to hide it from Liam but then you yawned, for like the tenth time, and attempted to conceal it behind your hand, yet again. Praying Liam wouldn’t notice, as you weren’t quite ready for this wonderful night to end. But when your eyes opened back up after the yawn you saw his handsome blues staring down at you. A knowing look on his face. Shit. You’d been caught. He excused you both from the few people you’d been talking to then led you to a quiet corner of the ballroom. Once you were alone he spoke “You’re tired.” But it wasn’t a question.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine for a little longer.” You tried to assure him but another yawn betrayed you. Fuck.

He smiled “Y/N, you’re clearly tired, why don’t we get Mara to take you home. I’d take you myself but I have a few other matters I need to attend to before I can leave. And I don’t know exactly how long they will take.”

“Are you sure? You don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind, I had the most beautiful woman in the room, on my arm all night. I’d say this night turned out better then I could have ever imagined.” he smirked down at you then looked up and around the room before lifting the arm you weren’t holding and gesturing to someone.

You could feel the heat rising in your face at his words. As your heart began to flutter. Mara quickly approached you both “Boss. Y/N.” she nodded to each of you as she addressed you both.

“Mara, would you mind taking Y/N home for me.”

“Of course, Boss.”

Mara took off to get the car as Liam walked you out of the ballroom and into the main hallway, then headed towards the front entrance. But before he opened the doors he gently took his arm back from you then removed his tux jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. Once it was secure he looked you over and smirked before pushing the door open for you both to exit the building. You looked down and realized what he was smirking at, you were damn near swimming in his large jacket. And you giggled lightly at that.

You both walked down the stairs to wait for Mara. Liam pulled you in under his arm and close to his body to help keep you warm as you waited. The heat from his body engulfed you and you never wanted him to let you go.

“Thank you, Liam.” You said contently from your spot tucked into his side.

“For?” He asked, confusion in his voice at the random praise.

“For everything. Protecting me. Taking me into your home. Being so sweet and patient with me,” you tilted your head to look up at him “And for tonight, I had a wonderful time.”

He just stared down at you for a moment, eyes fixed on you, then one of his large hands came up, brushing the hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “I also had a wonderful time, Y/N, thanks to you.” He said softly. Mara pulled up just then in a blacked out Mercedes and you begrudgingly untucked yourself from his side and took a step back, you removed his jacket and passed if back to him “And also thank you for the jacket.” You giggled, sleepily just as another yawn happened. You raised your hand to cover it.

“Okay, sleepyhead, let’s get you in the car so we can get you home and in bed.” He laughed as he reached down and opened the door for you, once again. But before you could climb in he took your hand and you paused. He raised it up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles. He then helped you into the car with the same hand.

Once you were seated he just stood there and stared at you. Then his eyes narrowed and you asked “What?”

“Belt.” He commanded. You laugh at the realization that you had forgot this time to put one on “Shit.” You quickly looked around for the seatbelt, finding it tucked into the seat. You grabbed it then clicked it in “Better?”

“Yes.” He said then his face instantly softened again “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Liam.” you said and with that he shut the door and you heard him hit the roof 2 times. Signalling to Mara that you were good to go. She took the signal and the car started to move. After a few minutes you were back on the main road heading to Liams house “How was your night, Y/N?” Mara asked as she looked into the rearview mirror at you.

You smiled just thinking about it then you sighed out happily as you looked out the window “Amazing.”

You heard her chuckle lightly “Glad to hear it.”

The car continued down the road, then entered into an intersection and everything slowed down. Instantly.

At first you didn’t realize what was going on. You felt your body jerk violently to the right into the car door, your head hit the window, as your arms flopped around in the air. Before they smashed back down into your body, only to then repeat the action a few more times. The sound while this was all unfolding was so loud, first a bone crushing crunch then metal on metal, all around you, for what felt like minutes but was probably only seconds. The windows all either shattered or blew out. But it wasn’t till everything halted, all the movement and noise, that you realized you’d been hit. And fucking hard. Clearly the car had rolled a few times. How many? You couldn’t be sure. And now you were dangling upside down in your seat. The car coming to rest on it’s roof. Leaving you extremely dazed and confused as your mind tried to comprehend what had just happened. But you were unaware of the danger you were truly in. Oblivious to what was about to happen next. Your safe life was about to shatter around you and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Chapter 13 HERE.

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 7 years

Text

Happy Birthday, que-sera-sera88!

Today, we wish a huge happy birthday to EBG’s own @que-sera-sera88! We hope you’re having an awesome day, and an awesome holiday, too! To add further birthday cheer, the incredible @herainab has written a story just for you.

Title: Come Away To The Water

Gift For: que-sera-sera88

Rating: Mature

AN: Happy Birthday Millie. I hope you enjoy your special day. There will be another part to this hopefully in the coming days. Millie asked for a Canon AU story about a marriage of convenience. I had a few ideas but this one stuck. I hope you enjoy Part 1. It’s quite a monster coming in under 13,000 words.

---

The reaping for the 72nd games is hot. The families watch from the sides fanning themselves from the heat. Babies cry in their mother's arms. Small children whimper as they hide behind their mother's skirts. They stand red-faced and sweaty hoping for the whole thing to be over so they can return to the shade of their homes.

And the rest of us stand like lambs waiting to be slaughtered. There's fear amongst us all. We get impatient waiting to see who will be called for the slaughter.

It basically felt like a slaughter.

Effie Trinket appears on stage with this energy that doesn't inspire us. We stare back at her. We wait. She frowns slightly but moves the show along. She moves the impending slaughter along.

In another District, one that was proud, the escort would call a name and there'd be plenty of lambs, fat, proud lambs ready to make their District proud. Lambs from good breeding stock. Here, we were all timid lambs born from poor breeding stock. Scared lambs who could smell the blood. We knew what was coming. We weren't raised by a good quality farmer who had fat, strong lambs. We were kicked to the side and dragged up to the stage when we were called for slaughter.

She calls for a girl. She's from The Seam. She's 17, scrawny and takes care of her brothers and sisters. Her father killed in a mining accident two years before. She sells herself to Cray as her mother sits vacant in a rocking chair in the living room. She was kind of pretty and stood out for The Seam. She also went to the Slagheap often with Merchant boys for favors like food or things she could trade to feed her siblings. If she dies, they'll end up in the community house.

No one volunteers for this little lamb.

"Peeta Mellark." Effie Trinket calls.

14-year-old Peeta looks around shocked and tries to walk on his shaking legs.

Until a brave lamb volunteers for his place.

"I volunteer." That lamb is Bannock Mellark. Peeta's 18-year-old brother.

He kisses his little brother on the head and makes his way up to the slaughter. This lamb might have a chance.

"What's your name?" Effie asks.

"Bannock Mellark."

"And I bet he's your brother."

"Yes."

"What an honor to volunteer for your District." Effie tells Bannock.

Bannock looks to his brother who shakes in the crowd, comforted by his other brother. Bannock nods his head at Rye Mellark and Rye nods back.

This little lamb has been spared. The brother's holding a pact between them to protect the little lamb for as long as they could.

---

"Papa, will Peeta be OK?" I ask. We're on our way home from the meadow having gone and paid our respects to Bannock Mellark. It's getting on to dinner time and Mom and Prim are at home preparing dinner for us.

Bannock Mellark did our District proud, he ranked high, survived within the arena, even started to figure out the logistics and outsmarted the game makers. But it wasn't enough and the lamb was torn to shreds by a creature that he didn't see coming.

Bannock's body, or what remained showed up in a pine box on a train early this morning. His coffin lowered into a plot he'd share with the 17-year-old girl he went to the games with. There was a special place in our cemetery for those who were in the games, it's just as the years went on, we had more pine boxes returning than Victors. They were slowly running out for room for our tributes.

"It'll hurt for some time." He tells me as we walk towards the square. "He'll feel pain, he'll cry and have bad dreams. He'll be angry and sad a lot of the time."

"What can I do?"

"Be there for him. Make him laugh. Make him forget about the pain. Distract him. Just be a good friend."

I nod and we come to the square. It's silent, people shutting themselves inside of their houses tonight as a way of respect. As a sign of mourning. Tomorrow trading will start back up and 12 will try to get back on their feet. The girl's siblings were taken to the community home this afternoon, their cries sounding throughout the District. The cries of another family let down by the Government.

Father stills, stopping me. His hunter instincts are on alert.

Then we spot a spark, smoke coming out of the Mellark's bakery.

"We have to help them." I demand. The Mellark's had been in their home since this afternoon.

He runs into the flames, breaking a window to get access. I watch on in horror. I can hear the screams coming from inside. The screams for help.

The whole upstairs is on fire, they're trapped. No matter what I do, help won't arrive in time.

Merchant shop owners come out to the square, they watch on as the flames engulf the Mellark's bakery.

There's an explosion inside the house, the crowd outside falls to the ground and the screams fall from my mouth.

"Dad!"

Darius holds me back as I go running for the bakery.

"Katniss, no!" He tells me, holding me tightly in his arms as we watch the roof cave in. There's only silence. No more screams for help. Just the smell of burning flesh, bread, and fire.

But there's a cry for help.

"Dad."

And besides the bakery, Dad is putting out the flames that burn Peeta Mellark. Peeta is unconscious but alive.

He becomes the only surviving Mellark in District 12.

---

Madge asks me a question that I don't answer. My attention isn't on her. It's on him.

He's scowling as he eats his lunch in the schoolyard.

He has a lot to be pissed about in this world. I allow him the scowling. The moodiness. The temper. The anger.

He's allowed to be angry.

I watch him. I always notice him.

But he never notices me. Or pretends to not notice me. He tells me it's for the best that the kids don't notice him watching me.

A ball rolls towards him, hitting his leg but he doesn't flinch. He doesn't even feel it.

"Throw us the ball, tool!" One of the kids yells at him.

He barely flinches, puts his head down even more and eats his lunch.

"Didn't realize you were deaf as well, Cripple." The 12-year-old kid says to him as he collects the ball, kicking Peeta's ankle before he runs off.

He barely flinches and just continues to eat his lunch.

He's had a rough few years. After the fire, his leg was taken. My mother cared for Peeta, took him into our home and nursed him back to health. She comforted him from the nightmares, the pain and the loss. She became a mother figure he never had. He became a part of our family for those few weeks he recovered with us.

Until his Uncle came for him. His Uncle was a bitter man. He despised Peeta much like Mrs. Mellark did. He saw Peeta as another mouth to feed. His uncle preferred Bannock or Rye over his youngest nephew. His Aunt barely spoke a word to him. His cousins stared, pointed and laughed. He wasn't liked in the family. He was only taken in because his Uncle felt obliged and his sister would have done the same.

Peeta worked hard, was pushed hard and neglected in every way possible.

He kept his head down and just kept going. He kept surviving the way he knew too. The little lamb was impressing me every passing day.

Even if he was yelled at and abused, he kept going. The entire District knew Peeta was suffering but no one did anything to help and those who tried were rebuffed, Peeta not wanting anything in return. He felt like he didn't deserve the help.

And I'm scared the youngest Mellark boy. The sweet baker boy will turn into his mother like the children say he will. Will turn bitter. Will be angry and mean.

And the older we get, the more he alienates people. The less of a chance he will have to marry, to have a family and live the life he always dreamed of.

He doesn't want to drag people into the drama, to make them see what is happening to him, to bring them down to the level he is feeling and affect everyone around him. For someone who used to inspire a room he barely has the inspiration to turn up to school.

He turned 18 a month ago and ever since then, he's wage has been cut and constantly threatened that the second school finishes; he'll be out on his arse. He'll work the 12 hours a day in the mine, will return home to the Miners boarding house and hate the world even more.

His Uncle constantly reminds him that he'll fit in with the Seam folk as they are nothing more than useless scum.

In six weeks, he might not have to worry about finding a job in the mines or a house in The Seam if he is reaped.

Our last reaping before we age out.

I hope we age out.

I hope the two innocent lambs can grow up.

I find him after school, he is pushed and knocked about by those who race past him laughing and giggling at him. Calling him all the names under the sun.

"Hey." I greet him.

"Hi." He still gives me the time and day. He is always genuine and friendly towards me. He saves all his smiles for me.

"We're having a dinner for my birthday on Saturday if you wanted to come."

"I'll be there." He tells me with a smile. He usually turns down dinner offers.

"Great, I'll let Mom know." I tell him.

I walk home with him, Prim having already headed home, walking with Rory Hawthorne.

"Are you ready to finish school?" I ask him.

He shakes his head. We still have four weeks left of school and two weeks later is the reaping. He'll be homeless in four weeks.

"Me either." I tell him. "But I think I've lined up a job with Mayor Undersee. His gardener is getting quite old and he doesn't think he'll last another winter. Mayor Undersee recommended me. Dad doesn't want me in the mines."

"I wouldn't either."

"But I might not get the job."

"They'd be silly not to give you the job." He tells me with a smile that makes my skin break out in goosebumps. That makes me blush and my heart race. This smile is the one he saves for me and it's when I know he truly means it. His eyes shine and the light reappears.

"Thank you."

We near the florist and I see him hesitate.

"Do you want to hang out in the meadow?" I ask him.

"I'd love to but…"

"That's ok, another time." I smile. "See you tomorrow?"

He nods and heads on into florist. He hobbles, limping slightly. His prosthetic must be giving him grief.

He's shot up in the last few months, becoming just a little bit taller and broader.

I wave goodbye to him, notice the change in his body language. I can see his shoulders have dropped, the lines on his forehead have appeared and a scowl on his face. I know he hates stepping foot into that house especially with the days passing by.

I walk on home, my hands in my pockets and kicking a loose stone.

I wish I could do more for Peeta Mellark.

---

Peeta shows up to the house early on Saturday. I wasn't expecting him for another hour.

"Hey, wasn't expecting you so soon." Mom and Prim are at a delivery and Dad still at work.

"I finished early, thought I'd come around."

I nod at him. I'm still not ready. I haven't showered and I smell like the woods. "Could you watch dinner, I was just about to get ready."

He tells me to go and get ready and he sets up in the kitchen watching the turkey and preparing the rest of dinner.

I bathe, washing my hair and scrubbing my body. I scrub so hard my skin is red and raw.

I pull out the dress Mom gifted me with this morning, telling me she wore this on her 18th birthday. The night she broke the baker's heart and ran off with my father. My father proposed to my mother in this dress under the stars in the meadow and promised that no matter what happened in the coming months, he'd love her forever. My mother was spared from the reaping and happily moved to The Seam with the coalminer. She left behind her easy life for love. She gave up everything, her friends, money, job, and house for love. For my father.

She could have had fat, healthy babies with the baker and baked for the rest of her life but couldn't resist the charm of the coal miner who she had met only previously at the Harvest Festival, falling in love with his voice, the way he told stories, his crooked smile and hearty laugh.

I always wondered why you could do something like that. Give up your entire life for a man. Move to another part of town. Say goodbye to your friends. Your house. Your job. I never understood this when I was young. But as I grow older, I can understand why my mother did it. I can understand how she fell for the charm of my father and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

And despite my desire to not want to marry or have children, I'd do the same as my mother if it was for a man who made me feel the way my mother feels about my father. Who made me smile and laugh all the time. Who accepted me for who I was. Who kissed me deeply and passionately every day. Who held me close to his body at the end of the day, making up for the time we were apart during the day. Just someone who I couldn't stop smiling about.

The dress is almost like the color of the sunset and hugs my body. The light coming in from the window catches on the fabric and it almost looks like the dress is catching fire. I leave my hair out of its usual braid, doing two simple braids to keep my bangs out of my face and let my curls fall down my back.

Peeta has his back to me when I come downstairs and he chats with my mother and sister. Prim spots me first, smiling at the sight of me.

"You look beautiful." She tells me.

Mom nods, gushing proudly and this makes Peeta turn around.

His jaw drops and it's the first time I've seen him speechless in my presence.

"That… you… You should wear your hair out more." He stammers and I smile, touching my curls nervously and thanking him.

"I knew that dress would suit you." My mother says. "I wore that dress on my 18th birthday." She tells Peeta.

"It's a beautiful color." He smiles. "It's my favorite color."

"Soft like the sunset." I add, remembering him telling me that years before when I screwed my nose up thinking of a bright orange color.

My mother must notice the way Peeta and I are looking at each other and she shoos us away, telling us to take a walk to the meadow.

I tell her we'll be back shortly and we walk to the meadow. Kids play in the street, playing games of tag, kicking rocks to one another and dodging their mothers as they fold washing and sweep their front steps.

Those out in the street notice us, stop and gawk and I know what they're thinking.

The oldest Everdeen is now 18. She's to find herself a suitable prospect, move into a house and start popping out baby after baby.

But they're also gawking over the fact that it's Peeta Mellark. They always assumed I'd end up with Gale Hawthorne.

He had other suitors on his mind like quiet Madge Undersee.

I had other things to worry about at this moment before I worried about the other things. I had school to finish and a reaping to survive.

The last reaping, I could protect my sister.

But we'd be fine. That's what Prim kept telling me.

"Are you scared for the reaping?" He asks.

"I'm scared for Prim."

"Would you volunteer for her?"

"I've got to protect her, just like Ban did for you."

"It cost him his life."

"He knew what he was doing." I remind him. "Do you miss him? I mean your family?"

"Every day."

"Does it get easier?"

"Slowly."

I reach out for his hand, squeezing it with my own hand. I did this when he lived with us for those four weeks. I held his hand when he had nightmares, when he silently thrashed or when he trembled slightly as he was sedated. I sang him lullabies and songs and constantly told him he was safe. I counted the freckles on his nose under the soft candlelight. I noticed how golden his eyelashes were. I noticed every little feature of Peeta Mellark.

He holds my hand as we sit in the meadow that afternoon and barely move. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, bringing me closer to his body. He smells of sugar, spice, spring and fresh flowers.

He places something in my palm when I'm not looking.

"Happy birthday." He whispers and I open my palm.

It's a gold locket. One that would have cost him a fortune.

"It's beautiful." I tell him. "But I can't have it."

"It's a gift, you have to take it."

"Peeta, it's too much."

He shakes his head. "It's the one thing I saved from the ashes. It was my grandmothers. My father always wanted me to give it to someone special."

I study the locket, see on the back there's a Mockingjay that's been carved into the locket and trace my finger over the delicate work.

"My grandfather gave it to my grandmother on her 18th birthday." He smiles.

"It's beautiful. I love it."

He puts it on for me and I admire how it sits on my chest, catching the light of the afternoon.

"It's perfect."

We walk back home together, hearing the whistle from the mine signaling the end of the shift.

Dad arrives home just as Mom dishes up dinner and we all sit crammed in the kitchen eating the turkey I caught.

Mom has gotten me a cake from the government-run bakery and we delve in.

It's not the same as a Mellark's cake and we force it down, bite after bite.

"I don't know about you all but I sure miss Mellark's." My dad says.

"Me too." Mum adds.

"Have you thought about what you'll do after school, son?" Dad asks him.

"Work in the mines. I won't pick anything else up."

"It'd be great if you could reopen the bakery. The town desperately needs it."

"I don't have that kind of money."

"You could do it out of your home." Mom says. "Start small and sell to the district. Build from there."

"Or the Hob." Dad suggests. "They have the ovens there."

"I don't know. Maybe in the future."

"I'd be your first customer." Dad tells him with a smile. "And I'd order four cheese buns."

Peeta laughs. "You all love your cheese buns."

"They were beautiful."

I can see Peeta getting a bit upset and I change the subject quickly.

"I caught Prim kissing Rory yesterday afternoon."

"Katniss." Prim whines, blushing red as Mom and Dad jokingly interrogate her.

And Peeta silently thanks me with a smile as they focus on tormenting Prim.

Mom and Prim clear the table and Dad presents me with one last gift.

"I don't need anything else."

"I know but it's a special occasion."

I'm gifted with a new bow, one that is much different to Dad's old wooden one. This one is lighter, sturdier, the string tighter and would be much more powerful.

"Where'd you get this?" I ask.

"I know people."

"It's beautiful." I tell him. "I love it."

"I knew you would. Do you want to test it out tomorrow?"

"Yes please."

Peeta and I go and sit out on the front step of the house and watch the world, watch the sun slowly set in the distance.

"Peeta, where are you going to live?"

"I'll find somewhere. Maybe in the cottage."

I screw my nose up at him boarding with the single men. They are rough, have no respect for personal space and Peeta would be a target.

"I was talking to Mom and Dad and they suggested you stay with us."

"Your family has already given me enough. I can't owe you anymore."

"It's the right thing to do." I tell him. "You'd do the same for us."

He knows I'm right and kisses my temple. "I'm forever grateful for your family. I'll never be able to return them what they've given me."

"It's what we do and we don't need debts repaid."

"One day I'll repay your family, that's a promise."

He kisses me for the first time that night.

It's short, sweet and nothing more than a kiss that is the start of everything. It's the springtime, stars, the smell of flowers and the sweetness of chocolate. It's the beginning of love.

I kissed him one night when he was unconscious. He had had a bad night of nightmares and was in pain. His leg had been amputated that morning and stitched to heal and hopefully fit with a prosthetic. That night he was in pain, despite the morphling he had been given. I kissed the corner of his lip and watched his face soften and he woke briefly, whispered my name and went back to sleep after I ran my fingers softly through his hair and sang to him.

I watch him walk on home and imagine all the other kisses we'll share.

---

Four weeks later, he's waiting on my doorstep with nothing but a bag over his shoulder. School only finished 20 minutes ago. His uncle wasted no time in kicking his nephew out.

Mom and Dad invited him to stay with us. They insisted. And he couldn't turn down their offer when he'd have nowhere to sleep for two weeks.

And he found solace with us, the only people who didn't turn their back on the youngest Mellark.

"Hi." I greet him.

"Hi."

He follows me inside, placing his bag on the floor next to the worn couch that he'll sleep on. Everyone is out of the house. Leaving us alone.

And his lips are on mine quickly.

The last two weeks, our relationship blossomed quickly.

He backs me into the wall, steadying both of us as we kiss, the hunger overcoming us both.

The front door swings open and we're caught.

"We do have a bedroom." Prim groans, covering her eyes.

Our lips are both red and we blush having been caught. We'd been quite discreet with our affection in front of my family and in public. We'd usually meet behind the ruins of the bakery, making out before he had to return home. Or he'd come and find me late some nights and in the shadows of the house, we kiss as the stars shone down on us.

"Be thankful it was me and not Mom or Dad." She chuckles heading into the kitchen with Rory tagging behind.

Ground rules are put in place when Mom and Dad return home. "You are both adults but this is our home. If we respect each other, we'll all be fine."

Peeta starts baking again, selling his creations to those who stop by and I've never seen the people in the District so happy. Despite the dark cloud that hangs over with the upcoming reaping, everyone is enjoying the simple things like Mellark's bread.

One night, he makes us cheese buns as a thank you and I am brought back to those Sunday mornings when Dad and I would go hunting. The Sunday where the baker would trade a rabbit for some cheese buns.

I thank Peeta with a big kiss. Kissing him in front of my parents.

My mother kisses his forehead, my father shaking his hand and Prim embraces him.

He brought our family tradition back and it's been a long time since we've all enjoyed cheese buns together under this roof.

"You'd be silly to not open a bakery." My father tells him.

"I'll think about it." He tells Dad, rubbing the back of his neck.

And I know, I have to protect Peeta. He is starting to shine again. Only a week after he moved in with us.

Maybe he feels safe. Maybe he feels protected. Maybe he feels love. Maybe he feels like he is home. He has found a home. A new family.

The afternoon before the reaping, we picnic in the meadow.

We feast on cheese buns, some fresh strawberries, and goat cheese.

Peeta is looking so much healthier and is much happier. He smiles now, he speaks to people and he is baking and painting again.

He is Peeta Mellark.

"We should get married." I propose.

"What?"

"Let's get married." I say. "I don't want you going into the mines. I want to protect you."

"I can protect myself, Katniss."

"I know you can but you can't work in the mines. I forbid you."

"I can make my own decisions." He tells me offended.

"I know you can but I won't forgive you if you step foot in the mines."

"Do you want to me to remain home, wrapped in cotton wool and do nothing? I'm not an invalid." He tells me. I've made him angry.

"I know you're not." I tell him. "I just think, it'll be best if we get married. It'll help us both out."

"You want a marriage of convenience?" He asks. "I thought we had something."

"And we do." I tell him. "If we marry, we'll have better benefits. We can get a house together because I know despite appreciating my parent's hospitality, you don't want to be sleeping on our couch forever." I say. "You can remain out of the mines and I'll work for the Mayor. This can work." I tell him. "I know deep in your heart you want to open the bakery, build a home to live in, we do this and it'll work. We can make it work. We can make your dreams come true."

"What do you want, Katniss?"

"For you to be happy." I tell him.

"No, what do you want? I don't want you to ruin your dreams by being married to me. You're not the girl who dreamed of being married and having a family. You just want to keep your family alive. You don't want to have children because you don't want to watch them starve and be reaped. I don't want to force you into a life you don't want."

"You're not forcing me. It's the right thing to do."

"No, it's not." He shakes his head. "I can't force you into a life you don't want just so you can protect me."

"I want this, Peeta."

"Sorry, Katniss. I can't-do this."

---

It's a quiet morning as we prepare for the slaughter. Hopefully the last slaughter. We hardly eat. We shower, dress and wait for the call. I'm wearing the soft orange dress I wore on my 18th birthday. Prim has fitted into Mom's blue dress I wore two years ago.

Mom is sure to embrace us, holding us in her arms and trying to send out nothing but positive thoughts.

We walk to the square, check in and go to our holding area. Go to possibly our final place before we're called for the slaughter. The new lambs, they tremble in fear.

The older ones, they're hopeful it's anyone but them. They hope to leave the slaughter today for the last time. I can smell the fear in the younger lambs and wish I could comfort them.

But they've smelt the blood already.

I find Madge who is as pretty as a picture in a new dress and her signature gold pin pinned to her dress. She hopes to leave the slaughter today as well. She's got a taste of life and she's not ready to go to the slaughter.

Effie Trinket comes to the stage in green get up this year. Her hair is a bright green. Her outfit a mix of greens with puffy sleeves, flares, and cut-outs. She wears sky-high heels that she can barely walk in.

She taps the microphone, begins her usual spiel before we watch the same video we watch every year. The video that tries to inspire us to be great. District 12's involvement is always laughed at and no one is ever inspired. The lambs aren't ready.

Haymitch Abernathy is surprisingly sober this year.

He has been almost sober since Bannock's involvement in the games and is beginning to show he wants to fight.

Haymitch has actually extended his kindness to Peeta since Bannock's death. Peeta hasn't told me this but Haymitch had been supplying him with a small allowance and has always kept an eye on Peeta. A parcel always makes its way to Peeta on the first day of the month filled with mostly money or anything else that he finds applicable.

I don't know if he's up to something and I'm not too keen on his intentions with Peeta. But Peeta accepts his help.

Haymitch looks out at the crowd, looks amongst the lambs and tries to not show emotion as the call for slaughter begins.

It'd be hard to have the death of nearly thirty kids on your hands.

"Ladies first." Effie Trinket announces.

She reaches into the bowl, searching for a slip.

I haven't taken out any tesserae. Either has Prim. Dad didn't want us putting our names in there in exchange for food. He always ensured he had something we could trade. We never had to put any extra slips in.

I know Peeta has though. His uncle forcing him to put his name in for extra food. He was constantly pressured into doing so. He thinks he has over 40 slips in the bowl.

"You deserve to die in that arena just like your brother did. Your brother who sacrificed his life for you."

Effie finds a slip and turns to the microphone.

"Esme Banner." She calls. It's a 15-year-old girl from the Merchant class. Her parents own a clothing boutique.

No one volunteers for the lamb. Her mother cries. She stands before the district knowing that this is where she leaves us, it's time to head to the slaughter.

Effie moves on to the male bowl and dips her hand in. I can see Peeta tense up. He believes it will be him. The extra slips in the bowl make him a target. Make his odds higher and higher.

Effie smiles when she finds the slip. I grasp Madge's hand tightly and close my eyes.

"Jonah Green."

My eyes open when I realize it's Peeta's cousin who has just aged into the reaping. The first year he's stood before the slaughter. It's rare but sometimes the baby lambs are picked at the reaping. Those lambs make for great entertainment.

The crowds step back from Jonah as Effie calls for him.

"Fred, no." I hear someone cry. "Don't do this."

"Volunteer you, coward!" Frederick Green calls out from behind the crowd of children. "Volunteer!"

And we know who he is telling to volunteer. He wants Peeta to sacrifice his life for his cousin.

Frederick pushes through the crowd towards Peeta.

"He volunteers. Peeta Mellark volunteers."

"I do not." Peeta calls back as he is pushed by his uncle.

"Sir, please." Effie tries to calm him down.

"Move that crippled leg of yours and volunteer." He grabs Peeta by the collar and forces him to move, Peeta trips over onto the ground. "If you had any values you'd volunteer for your cousin. He's only 12."

"I'm not volunteering." Peeta tells him from the ground. He doesn't want to. He has been set free from the slaughter. Frederick falls to the ground, fists flying in the air. He gets one good punch in before the Peacekeepers pull them apart. Fred kicking and his fists flying. I run for Peeta.

"You're scum. I hope you burn in hell." Frederick tells his nephew. "You're nothing like your brother's. You have no family values. You're rotten. You should have died in that fire." He yells. "You don't deserve to breathe. Go and live your life in the Seam with that fucking Everdeen girl you have a permanent hard-on for. You're not my family you piece of…"

The butt of the gun hits him in the temple, knocking him out and silencing him.

The crowd looks at Mr. Green's unconscious body and then at his eldest son who stands up on the stage shaking from what he's just witnessed. He's smelt the blood. He can sense the fear. He knows this is it.

It could have easily been a bullet put into Fred Green's head but they're allowing the lamb the chance to say goodbye.

The public humiliation will likely cause the business to suffer for a short while. Despite the son being in the games, no one will step foot in the florist.

A few of our classmates' comfort Peeta, ensuring he's alright as Effie finishes the reaping.

We send them off to the slaughter and watch as the doors to The Justice Building close them in.

Peeta's prosthetic has broken, cracked in half. Most likely from the fall or the fact it's too old for him.

"We'll have to get you a crutch." I tell him. My father has found us. "His prosthetic is broken." I tell Dad.

Dad reaches down, helping him up off the ground. "Will you be right to hobble back to the house?"

Peeta nods and they head on home. Dad leading us away from the slaughter. I carry his broken prosthetic and watch as the crowd slowly disappears back home. Some go to say goodbye to the tributes but we don't dare step foot in the Justice Building.

But I am safe from the slaughter. And Prim, she'll have to face it alone next year.

"I don't know how we're going to fix it." Dad tells Peeta.

"It's alright, I can use some crutches for a while until I can afford a new one." He replies, holding a cold press to his eye.

That night, Peeta and I sit on the couch together, Mom, Dad, and Prim all gone to bed. They play the reaping over and over. District 12 incident has been cut and edited to seem like it ran normally, you can only notice that Effie is slightly flustered. Only the District 12 residents will know what happened that day.

Peeta reaches for my hands, squeezing them with his hands and resting them on his lap.

He plays the game we started four years earlier when he healed with us.

"We've aged out, real or not real?" He asks.

"Real." I tell him. "We're safe, real or not real?"

"Real." He answers softly. He kisses my temple and brings me closer to his body. "I was so scared I'd lose you today."

"Me too."

"I think we should get married. It'll be the only way to survive." He says. "I won't survive working in the mines and I don't want to live in the boarding cottage. If we marry we'll have our own house. I can work from home, I can bake and paint and create things. And you can work for the Undersee's." He says. "We'll make it work."

"When do you want to sign the papers?"

"As soon as we can."

He presents me with an engagement token, one he pulls from his luggage.

"Katniss, will you marry me?" He asks with a purple colored pearl. It's beautiful.

"Yes."

It's a pearl he tells me he found at the Hob last week. Greasy Sae let him have it and he carefully turned it into a charm to hang from the locket he gave me.

He kisses me and that night, we break mother and father's rule by sharing a bed. We only hold each other, our legs entwined, my head resting on his chest and his arms holding me to his body.

Mom and Dad congratulate us on our engagement the next morning.

"When is the toasting?"

"As soon as we're assigned a house." I tell her.

There's a knock on the door after breakfast, a Capitol attendant with a package for Peeta.

"Peeta Mellark." The attendant says. "Package." He tells him, holding out the package.

Peeta opens it. "Who got me a prosthetic?"

The attendant shrugs his shoulders and is gone after he is sure it fits Peeta well. It's better made than his previous one. This one fits him better, doesn't rub or pinch his skin.

"How is it?" I ask him.

"Perfect." He tells me, smiling from ear to ear.

We go to the Justice Building to book in our wedding and organize our house. The Government issued families with a house for free. If you were single, there was a small fee involved and most people couldn't afford the house and ended up in the single boarding cottages. Most married for the sake of marrying.

But what Peeta and I are doing, it's something different. There's genuine love and even if we're not there yet, we will be.

It was always bound to happen. I always think we would have ended up together.

We can move into our house by the end of the week and our wedding is planned for that same day.

"What cake do you want?" He asks me on the walk home.

"Whatever you want to make me."

"And bread to toast?"

"Bread filled with raisins and nuts." He smiles at me, remembering the loaf he gifted me years before in the rain.

It's ultimately the bread that started our story. His generosity is what brought me to want to save his life three years later. To offer him the same type of compassion he showed me.

Hope began that day. And hope is continuing to grow between us.

We go and check out our home. It's right by the meadow with a blooming garden. It's one of the biggest houses in the Seam.

"Plenty of room for us." He tells me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. There'd be room for a studio for Peeta and somewhere to bake. I always loved this house when I was a child, always dreamt of living in it. Now, my dreams were coming true.

I turn to him, wrap my arms behind his head and smile at him. "Thank you for making me the happiest person in the world."

He kisses me in front of our future home and everything feels right.

---

"Katniss." Mom calls.

I see her enter the room from the reflection of the mirror. Peeta is getting ready at the Hawthorne's, Dad helping him get ready. Peeta has bought a suit and a tie to wear for the occasion. Hazelle and Mom have mended Mom's wedding dress instead of me renting one. It's bohemian with vintage lace, short sleeves and backless. It's beautiful and I want to cherish it forever.

"You look beautiful." She tells me. She has a proud smile on her face and I smile back at her.

She helps me do my hair, braiding my hair up into an updo. Prim had picked some flowers earlier, that Mom carefully places into my hair.

"Peeta is going to love it."

I can't help but smile. I never imagined this day, never imagined getting married and having a family but I can't help but love the idea.

"There are a few things I wanted to give you." She tells me. I hadn't noticed she brought in a box filled with items.

It is filled with sheets, crockery, vases, a copy of the plant book, a nightgown, a brooch and photo frame.

"And there's one last thing." She tells me handing me a diary, a bag of herbs and contraception. The form that only Merchant people can afford.

"I know we've talked about this but you're getting married. There are expectations and things that happen in a marriage. I know you haven't spoken about kids but this gives you and Peeta a chance to settle into your life and not worry about any added stress of children." She tells me. "The diary is to keep track of your cycle when you're intimate with each other, moods, emotions and everything else. If you need anymore come and ask."

"Thanks, Mom."

"And don't put too much pressure on yourselves when you both decide to share your first time together. You will make the decision when you are both ready. Don't rush it either. Enjoy being together, enjoying falling in love, enjoy the privacy and being adults. Enjoy sneaky kisses, touches, and gazes. Just enjoy each other's company. Fall for each other and grow together slowly, learn about each other and how your body responds to different things. It's now your time to live and grow and have some fun."

I blush a little. My mother and I had never spoken to each other like this before. After she sat me down and told me all about the birds and the bees, I ran to the woods and hid out for the afternoon, too embarrassed to think and consider the changes my body was going through. I hadn't at 13 even considered a boy touching me let alone considering having sex with someone.

And since then, I've always blushed at the thought, even talking to my mother about it. But she deals with this daily, she's always patient and accepting. And now that I'm an adult and have found someone she likes, she wouldn't judge me. And I feel like I could be open with her.

"Just enjoy your life. You've finally got your dandelion in the spring."

She kisses my forehead and does a final check.

Prim is downstairs holding a bouquet of flowers for me. This is a little over the top for a District 12 wedding but my mother always told me about her wedding, how my father brought her a bouquet of flowers to hold during the ceremony. Flowers that they pressed in a book to preserve for years to come.

They said a few words in the meadow on their way to their house for the toasting. Words shared in private before crossing the threshold into their marital home.

Mom, Dad, and Prim walk with me to the Justice Building.

Peeta has his back to us when we enter the Justice Building. He is looking at the paintings on the wall, admiring the sculptures and architectural work. He had no family coming to watch. No friends. No one. He didn't invite anyone.

But a few of his friends show up. Delly, Carter, and Lincoln. Their friendship fell out after the fire but they don't fault Peeta for that. They've had a lot more to do with him in the last two weeks than in the last four years.

And I invited them to witness their friend get married which they told me they didn't want to miss.

Peeta is speechless when he sees his friends enter the Justice Building. He hugs them all and thanks them as they congratulate him.

And then he sees me enter behind my family.

And he is even more speechless.

"You look beautiful." He tells me, reaching for my hand.

I smile at him, blushing and admire him in his suit and forest green tie.

We kiss after we sign our forms and pose for a photograph.

"Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Mellark." The official announces, handing over our certificate. "May your lives be filled with happiness and love."

Our mother directs everyone to meet at the house at 4 pm when we'll cross the threshold and gather for some food and cake. Where we'll build the fire and toast.

Peeta and I make our way to the meadow but we're stopped by his uncle who comes charging out of the florist, headed directly for Peeta.

My father and all the Hawthorne men protect us from Fred Green.

He hasn't handled things since Jonah left on the train. He's been making a nuisance out of himself in the square. Has been drinking and passing out. The peacekeepers have been returning him home quite often.

"You get married and not invite me? Not invite your family? You are useless, Peeta. Hope your new wife doesn't mind having a dud like you."

I push my bouquet into Peeta's hands and step between Gale and Rory Hawthorne.

"You know what, you don't even know what Peeta is like. You say he's all these things but he is because you made him. You didn't care to see who he truly was. You don't care about him. You tried to turn him into something he's not. But I cared about him. I got to know him. I nurtured him to be who he is. I love him, something you failed to do. He is my dandelion in the spring." I tell him. "And I know it sucks that Jonah got reaped but don't go taking it out on other people. Go and be with your family because they're hurting just as much as you. They need you at this time." I say gently. "I'm going to go and be with my family, just like you should be."

He looks at all of us, his eyes welling with tears before he steps back. He doesn't say a word, looks at his nephew for a long while before he turns around and returns home. His wife waiting at the front of the shop for him with their two youngest hiding behind her legs.

I comfort Peeta when we get to the meadow. We go and find the big willow tree. He kisses me softly on the lips, brushing the stray pieces of hair away from my face.

"I will never be able to thank you." He tells me.

"You don't have to." I tell him. "I want this."

I rest my head on his chest and he kisses the top of my head. Trees dance in the breeze, the dandelions sway and the birds sing their best song in the afternoon light.

"Here I am, just a guy standing in a suit, wishing to promise you whatever you want." He says.

"And I'm just a girl standing here in a white dress." I repeat. "Wishing to give you a good life."

"What do we want to promise each other?" He asks.

"To be patient." I add.

"Kind."

"There for each other."

"From this day on." He finishes. "This is our promise to each other." He says. "We're just two people standing together in a suit and a white dress, pledging the rest of our lives together."

"Will you stay with me?"

"Always." He tells me after a brief silence. We share another kiss before we retreat from the willow tree and head to our home. We can see it from the meadow and I can't wait to grow old in this home with Peeta.

Our family is waiting for us at the house. They smile at us and Peeta picks me up, surprising me and carries me down our footpath and over the threshold.

There's music played throughout the afternoon as we eat food and share the cake Peeta made. We dance in the living room around the bodies that sit and stand in our presence. In District 12, when there is music, we dance. The few instruments that have made its way play folksy tunes and we all dance. Peeta sits out for most of it, watching Prim and myself dance until I drag him up. It's a slower tune, one that Peeta can keep up with and we sway from side to side. Everyone has someone to dance with. I am just overwhelmed with the feeling of love that is filling this home. I hope love always fills this home.

It's late when we go to build the fire to toast the bread.

Peeta builds the fire and I slice a piece of bread. Our guests leave us to be as the fire catches and give us our chance to have our toasting. We kneel in front of the fire and together toast the nut and raisin bread before we share it together with butter melting into the toast.

He feeds me a piece and I feed him a piece.

And that's when we feel married, right then after our toasting. We share a long kiss in front of the fire, sealing our future as the flames flicker.

He carries me to our bed and places me on my feet at the foot of it.

"Katniss there doesn't have to be anything happen tonight." He tells me. "I don't want there to be any pressure on us."

"Me either." I admit.

"Do you just want to hold each other?"

I nod, smiling at him.

He helps take the flowers out of my hair, laying them out on the dresser. He undoes my hair, shaking my braids out and lets my hair fall in waves down my back. He unzips my dress for me and turns his back to allow me to dress into my nightgown. He has stripped out of his shirt and suit pants and pulls on a pair of pajama pants. He sits on the edge of the bed and goes to remove his prosthetic but I stop him.

"Let me." And I remove it for him, laying it beside the bed. I kiss the scar of his stump and help him swing around into the bed. He pulls me beside him and holds me in his arms.

"Today was amazing." I tell him.

"I thought so too." He smiles. "I haven't had that much fun in a long time."

"Did you ever picture your wedding to be like that?"

He ponders for a while. "Not with you. It would have a been a lot less of a celebration and more of a quiet affair. A chore. There's just not the same amount of life in Town as there is here in The Seam."

"We don't have a lot but we make up for it in other ways." I tell him.

"You all have big hearts and know how to party."

I feel safe. I know, I won't be able to sleep apart from him for the rest of my life, he settles me, calms me, wards away bad dreams and inspires only the good dreams.

And I know, he now only has good dreams. He told me the other night how he hasn't slept this good since he lived with us during his recovery. How he constantly had bad dreams and nightmares. But now, he feels safe.

"I am your husband, real or not real?" He asks me. It was tedious for us to still be playing this game. Childish even but it got us by. It will get us through tough times.

"Real." I reply. "You are home, real or not real?"

"Real. Home is wherever you are."

---

Peeta's cousin dies two days later. He dies during the first night, killed at the hands of the careers. It's a pain-free death but Peeta still mourns.

I give him his space but am close by if he needs me. He takes a loaf of bread to his Uncle as a sign of respect. He embraces his aunt and hugs his cousins who don't really understand that their brother has died. He leaves them to mourn as Jonah's death is played over and over.

It's the first time in the history of the games that I've witnessed the Careers actually stop and wait for the hovercraft to take the body away. They kiss their three fingers and hold it up in the air as Jonah is lifted away.

Something has shifted within the game. The dynamics, the way it's played out, the tributes. Something is different this year and I can't quite put my finger on it.

When we return home, he wants to just sit on the couch and hold me. We sit together in the silence of our home.

I cook us dinner and we eat together at our kitchen table. He cleans up and I give him his space, going and having a bath and going to bed with a book Madge leant me.

I must fall asleep before Peeta comes to bed. I wake to find him taking the book from me, tucking me into bed and switching the light off.

In the darkness, we kiss, our hands roaming over each other's bodies slowly and tenderly.

He touches my breasts over the material of my nightgown, squeezing them gently as he kisses me. His lips wander from my lips across my cheek and down to my neck. He sucks the skin there, causing my back to arch in response. His lips move further down, along my collarbone, the hollow of my neck and down my chest.

I tug at my nightgown, letting the straps fall down over my shoulders and exposing my breasts to him.

"You're beautiful." He whispers to me. And I believe him.

---

He is up before dawn every morning baking bread which he sells to the neighbors in The Seam. He drops some loaves to the Hob, trading for some cheese and nuts.

Word catches on and from early in the morning, people are lining up outside of the house waiting for bread. Even those from Town venture all the way in. The demand is so high that he always sells out.

"They love your bread."

"They all grew up eating Mellark's bread." He tells me as we clean up.

I've started my job gardening for the Mayor and Peeta has focused his energy and time into creating things again.

He is drawing and painting again which is a huge feat. We grow together, learn to live side by side and under the same roof. In just a short amount of time, I know I love him.

After 12 days, The Games ended with a mass suicide from the Careers at the end, leaving Esme Banner from our District the winner.

Our District has been in celebration. It's the first time in 26 years that we've had a winner. The district prepares for the celebration for when Esme returns home at the end of the week and the focus turns to us as the cameras will capture her arriving home.

Peeta and I had some wine the night she was crowned. A bottle we were given as a gift for our wedding. We shared a glass together and fooled around on the couch.

We're becoming more daring, more loving and hungrier for each other. We're learning about each other's bodies, taking turns pleasuring each other and seeing more and more of each other's bodies.

He traps me between the counter and his body, pressing his body close to mine before he lifts me up onto the bench kissing me. He unbuttons my pants, tugging at them slightly.

"We should clean up." I tell him as he kisses my neck.

"That can wait." He tells me, lifting me up off the bench and carrying me to our living room. He lays me on the couch, pulling my pants down my olive legs before he kneels between my legs, pulling my panties down.

I never knew this type of hunger existed and now we crave this, crave each other's bodies like it's a necessity. And this has become Peeta's favorite thing, his head buried between my legs.

There's a knock on the door and a voice.

A voice that sounds a lot like my sister.

I push Peeta off of me. "Prim's here." I tell him as he looks at me confused. "I told her we'd have lunch." I inform him.

"And you forgot to tell me?"

"Sorry, we've had other things on our mind." I tell him and he laughs, handing me my clothes.

I redress as Peeta goes to answer the door.

"Hey, Prim." He asks her slightly out of breath.

Prim comes inside, notices how hot and flustered we are but doesn't say anything. She shrugs it off like it's nothing and sits down at the table. She's brought along some cheese from Lady.

We have sandwiches and fresh lemonade before she heads off to meet Rory for the afternoon.

She's so smitten." Peeta comments as we watch her head down the street.

"Say's you." I tell him, pinching his butt and smirking. I run on off, heading back to work.

"You'll pay for that tonight."

I giggle and blow him a kiss as I head on back to work.

I end up at the station to look at what needs to be done for tomorrow. I sit in the shade writing a plan and hear the station attendants speaking.

"They're not happy in the Capitol." One of them says.

"Why?"

"The careers showed them up. The Capitol hates being showed up."

"So, what's going to happen?"

"Nothing, they have a winner and they will turn her into something she's not."

I feel a shiver go down my spine. Winning the games looked wonderful but in reality, you never owned yourself. You couldn't step foot out of line and make Snow look stupid. You had to be a puppet and do everything he says. Peeta told me this just the other night when I asked about Haymitch. Haymitch showed up the Capitol, paid for it with his family being killed. Much like Peeta's family paid for Bannock's actions.

A lot of the Victor's do what the President says or they lose the ones they love. It's happened to a few of them. Most oblige to keep their family safe.

"Esme will be fine. Abernathy will keep an eye on her." The attendant says.

A few days later, Esme's train pulls in. She stands on a stage, waving at the crowd who welcome her home with wide arms. We celebrate with a feast in the square. There's music, lots of food and some wine. We dance, eat and celebrate the extra food.

Peeta and Haymitch chat in the distance and I try to read lips, try to figure out what's going on.

Peeta and I walk on home, cutting the celebrations short. It's the anniversary of the fire and his cousin was brought home in a pine box, buried earlier this afternoon before the party begun.

Peeta attended the funeral and then laid flowers for his mother, father, and brothers.

I comfort him that evening, letting him cry and grieve for his family. He used to not be allowed to mourn them when he lived with his Uncle. He wasn't allowed to show emotion.

This year, I allow him to mourn and the chance to grieve after all those years he was refused.

I'm there for him.

---

"How are you feeling?" Peeta asks me. I've gotten a case of the flu that has been going around the District the last few weeks and lucky me, I've gotten it a second time.

I groan, rolling over to cuddle him. It's our anniversary. Two years of being married and living together.

Peeta is a whole different person. It's like he's been reborn. And he much resembles the dandelions in the spring. He is a wonderful husband, he loves me, cherishes me, is patient and kind.

He's successfully running a bakery from our house, selling mostly bread but also creating special orders like cakes. I always have a constant supply of cheese buns.

He is also painting again. He is drawing. The house is covered in his drawings and paintings and I love coming home to the bright colors of his creations. Most of them are of me but I like seeing the way he creates me on the paper. He constantly draws the people of The Seam. Those on their way to the mines, backs bent and bodies aching, he draws the kids as they play in the meadow, Prim falling in love with Rory, my parents and anything else he can get his hands on.

And every morning, there's always a flower waiting on his pillow for when I wake up. It's the little things, the simple gestures of romance that make me smile.

The second bout of the stomach flu has come from the kids Peeta and I watch a couple afternoons a week. The kids aged 3 and 6 months old both had the flu, giving it to me. Peeta had a bread run and I watched the two of them by myself. Their mother insisted she stay but I shooed her off.

And now I was paying for it again. 6 weeks later.

My stomach lurches and I go running, emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Peeta rubs my back, holds my hair back and ensures I'm fine.

He offers me water and wipes my mouth with a cloth.

"Happy Anniversary." I say to him.

He laughs gets me settled back into bed before he gets ready for the day.

He sells the bread when the miners go underground. There's enough bread to go around now and nobody misses out. He does a bread run after lunch, delivering all around town before he returns home and starts preparing dough for the next day. With the money he had made, he bought himself a big bakers oven which keeps up with the demand. Next plan was to buy a bakery with his earnings.

It's nice having a house that smells like fresh bread, sugar, and spice.

I must sleep as he trades because when I wake it's midmorning and he brings me toast and a cup of tea.

I manage to stomach that and he sits up with me in bed.

"I'll make you sick again." I tell him.

"I don't mind." He replies.

We were in no rush to have children. I've slowly come around to the idea but we wanted to enjoy our time together while building up a successful business and steady careers. Peeta had plans to have a bakery running within 12 months, opened by his 21st.

For now, we were enjoying our lives.

But I know the way Peeta looks at me when I hold baby Brielle, how I am around Cade.

"You'll make a great mother someday." He tells me. Truth be told, he'd also make a great father.

But we were in no rush.

He leaves me in bed to tidy up. The reaping had taken place last week, a girl from the Seam was reaped and a boy from the Merchant side reaped. They were both 16. They had better odds but stranger things have happened for the lambs who attended the slaughter.

I sleep most of the afternoon with just an unsettled stomach. I've had a few close calls and have resorted to sitting beside the toilet bowl.

My mother has sent over some herbs to put into my tea and a reminder to drink a lot of fluids.

He tickles my back as I lay in bed. A cup of herbal tea drunk and some water to sip on. He hums songs to me and I just rest my eyes. I feel protected and safe in his arms. No matter what will happen, he'll have my back.

The next morning, I spring out of bed and go to the woods with Dad. I hardly go out anymore except for on Sunday's with Dad. We meet well before dawn and make our way through the woods returning just after sunrise with our haul. We always have a cup of tea and a cheese bun before we go back through the fence. Dad going to do the trading and me going home to Peeta.

We usually make love when I return from the woods. He has usually finished for the day and is usually waiting for me at the front door. He closes the door behind us, takes off my coat and leads me down to our bedroom where we usually spend most of the morning under our sheets. Our bed sheets always smell like the woods, sugar, and cinnamon.

Today we check our snares and traps, reset them and try our luck at some game. We end up with a good haul, fat rabbits, squirrels and fowl birds. Dad gives me a bird and he goes to trade quickly before the games start. My stomach still feels a bit queasy but I manage to make it home.

"You alright?" Peeta asks.

"Just feel a little queasy." I tell him.

"Go and lay down and I'll bring you a cup of tea."

I lay down on the couch and Peeta brings me my tea. The Games have just started.

"Should I get your Mom?"

I shake my head. "I'm fine."

He stays at my side as the Games play out. No one is killed in the bloodbath. The Careers give the rest of them a head start as they stand on the pedestals. It's bizarre watching a game that used to be so bloodthirsty resorting to this. I'm confused if this is their tactic but the rest of the tributes run for the safety of the thick bushlands.

A knock at our door wakes us up and its Mom, Dad, and Prim. They've come for lunch and we sit around the table enjoying a spread. Jas comes over with the kids after lunch and Prim plays with Cade out in the garden. Brielle happily sitting on Peeta's lap.

"Are you sick again?" Mom asks me.

"Yeah, I've got that stomach flu again." I tell her, handing Brielle her wooden toy she's dropped.

She studies me for a second and then leaves it. She'll have something to say later on when we're alone.

Prim comes inside with Cade crying.

"What happened?" Mom asks.

"He fell. I'm so sorry, Jas. I was watching him and he…"

"It's fine, Prim. He's a boy who is into everything." Jas assures her as she takes Cade, comforting him. "Hey big boy, let me have a look."

"He'll need it stitched." Mom tells Jas. "Come on, I'll take you back to the house and take a look at it."

Peeta and I stay home with Brielle. She sits on my stomach clapping and giggling. Peeta sits in the chair sketching and occasionally looking over at Brielle and me.

"I know we said we'd wait but that really suits you."

I smile, pulling a silly face at Brielle. "We have a bakery to open first." I remind him.

"I know we do." He smiles. "One day."

I didn't admit to him that I had dreams about our children constantly. Children we'd take to the meadow and watch play. Chubby, blonde haired babies who laid amongst the daisies and sung songs to each other. There were two little babies hanging out in the meadow together. Brother and sister. But I hoped to gift the world with more Mellark's. One's who took the words of the song for granted, who danced in the meadow, painted and baked. Who were the dandelions in the spring.

---

My stomach flu lingers for a few days. The Games play on but are slower and not as gritty as they usually are. The game makers intervene, creating drama and obstacles. The tributes are killed off by game maker devices rather than by each other.

Little Cade shows off his pirate patch that covers the three stitches he needed.

"You're the coolest little pirate." Peeta tells Cade as he sits upon our kitchen bench. We're having dinner, something that has become a normal thing in the two years we've lived next to each other. We usually have dinner after we watch the kids.

Peeta usually bakes a nice loaf of bread or dinner rolls to go with our meal and some type of dessert he makes with Cade. Tonight's was a flaky chocolate creation. One that had my mouth salivating.

Our TV turns on automatically and we know something has happened. Some type of breaking news.

It couldn't be the games, there was still 8 contestants left. Something bigger had happened.

"We interrupt your current screening with breaking news." The newsreader begins. "Reports are coming from the Mansion that President Snow is dead. I repeat, President Snow is dead."

"What?" Peeta asks, coming into the living room.

"President Snow was found by mansion staff this morning unresponsive. Despite numerous attempts to revive him, he could not be revived. He leaves behind his daughter and granddaughter." She states. "There are no words on the games and there will be a press conference held 5 pm Capitol time."

"I did not see that coming." I admit.

"Katniss, he was old. He was probably close to being well into his 90's. It was bound to happen. And his appearances in the public were declining as the years went on."

"Let's just hope his replacement is decent." I say to Peeta, holding Brielle close to my body.

We eat dinner and dessert and play with the kids. Brielle sits on her mother's nap nursing and Cade tucked beside his father.

The games have come to a bit of a standstill and the kids have a moment to breathe. The press conference starts and some young, up and coming politician is appointed after a unanimous vote.

He's in his mid-thirties and has a lot of potential.

"Someone new to ruin our lives." Des adds with a frown, looking down at his two children who he can't really protect.

The games will continue as normal.

"He might do a good job." Jas adds.

"If he keeps our children from starving and sending them into those terrible games then that's when I'll say he's doing a good job." I say.

The next day, the four remaining careers end their lives in an act that is almost similar to last year. A mass-suicide. It leaves District 7 to become the winner of the game.

Johanna Mason appears on screen, slightly pleased that they've won but I see the worry in her eyes. There's uncertainty of what really will happen now that President Snow is dead.

I don't watch anymore as I go running for the toilet.

I leave Peeta to head to my mothers with the baked goods that afternoon. I'll see him for dinner with my parents.

Mom is in the kitchen, putting together salves and lotions.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Still a bit queasy." I tell her. Something that she is making makes my stomach start rolling.

She sits me down and does a quick examination.

"You don't have a temperature." She tells me. "Stomach flus don't linger this long."

She asks me all these questions, mostly about my body and my cycle.

"Don't freak out just yet but could you be pregnant?"

"What, no? Peeta and I have been safe."

"Were you two intimate when you had your first stomach flu?"

"Yes."

"There's a chance that the contraception failed."

"What?"

"If you were sick, it might not have been effective."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Because it rarely happens." She tells me.

I rub my temples at a small headache that's coming along. "I can't be pregnant." I tell her. "We're not ready."

"You might not be but let's see."

She examines me, checking my cervix and gets me to take a test. We wait patiently together. Mom holding my hand.

I watch my mother. She's always had this incredible patience and non-judgemental attitude when it comes to her patients. And now, with her 20-year-old daughter sitting in an examination chair, she's calm and I think she's secretly hoping it'll be positive.

"It's time to see the test." She informs me. I exhale a deep breath and she goes to collect my test. She studies it for a long while I start to have doubt.

I had built up in my head in the few minutes of sitting, holding my mother's hand, images of my baby. Images of being pregnant. Of preparing for the baby. Of growing this being inside of my stomach. I caressed my stomach with my free hand and imagined what it would feel like to feel flutters and kicks inside of my stomach. I even imagined Peeta's reaction. Could picture his smile. Could feel his hands on my stomach.

And I fear that it's negative.

"Mom?"

She turns around, tears streaming down her face and I notice the smile as she holds the test.

"You're pregnant."

And I'm not as shocked as I thought I would be.

She embraces me, holding me in her arms tightly and squeezes me. "I know you didn't want this to happen but things happen for a reason."

She wipes the tears from my cheeks, kissing me and smiling at me.

"How do you feel?"

And I smile at her, my lips curving upwards into a beaming smile. A smile that I can feel right down to the tips of my toes.

I touch my stomach and hug my mother once more.

I help her with dinner and we wait for everyone to return home. There was a mandatory viewing tonight and our attention was needed in the square from 7 pm.

"How will you tell him?"

"I don't know." I tell Mom. "Maybe at the meadow."

The front door bursts open, Peeta running inside with Prim following behind.

"What's wrong?" We ask him.

"The peacekeepers left this morning."

"What?" I ask.

"What does that mean?"

"We're not going to the square." My father says running into the house.

"What's going on?"

"We're leaving."

"For where?"

"The woods. Now!" It's just after 6:30 and it doesn't leave a lot of time to get to the woods. To save our district.

Peeta and I run home, dodging those who are panicking and running in all different directions. We tell Des and Jas to pack a bag.

Peeta throws some clothes into a bag. I stuff my game bag with our possessions, the plant book, wedding photo and his drawings. We say goodbye to our home and go to find our family. Our friends.

The first bomb drops, coming over us from the west and dropping close to town.

We try to herd people to the meadow but some are scared of the tales they've been told and head right for the firing line.

We hide in the dense trees and try to remain undetected as we escape the district. I help them through the fence, Peeta carries kids who have lost their parents, Dad drags people towards the meadow as bombs fall on our district. Those who went to town had no hope of surviving.

And less than a thousand people make it to the woods. The rest lie under the rubble. We watch from the protection of the woods, our beautiful little town destroyed in a matter of minutes. Our houses were gone, our businesses, our memories all gone.

And we were made an example of. An example towards the other districts to not step out of line or this will become your home.

I'm still unsure what we did to deserve it. A bigger statement would have been to bomb District 1 or 2, not 12.

The fire burns but we're still breathing. These lambs escaped the slaughter.

For now.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by herainab

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