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charliedawn · 3 years

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The consequences

(Warning : death)

Dr Wilson was finishing the autopsy on some woman found dead in the forest, appreciating the quietness around the hospital, now that the patients were gone..

" Well, looks like you were murdered, miss Anon..A shame..Pretty face. I wonder, was it a relative, or a jealous partner perhaps ?"

He told the dead victim and chuckled to himself before washing his hands in the little sink next to him. He hummed to the music he was listening to with his earphones and didn't see the body raising up from the operation table behind him. However, he heard something fall to the floor and promptly turned around. He looked at the metallic plate now on the floor and frowned.

" Hello ? Is someone there ?"

He crouched next to the plate and raised it to eye-level, nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw another reflection next to his on the smooth surface. He turned around to see the corpse he was examining, smiling down at him.

" Well well..If it isn't Dr Wilson ? Wouldn't you like to find out how it's like to be stabbed to death ?"

He tried to get away, but the woman took him by the collar to raise him in the air and took out a knife that she plunged into his stomach multiple times. Victor's eyesight blurred and the woman's eyes turned black.

" Too bad..You were kinda cute.."

However, someone else entered the room and noticed the woman. The soldier pointed a gun at her and shot. The woman turned towards her and her face morphed into another one, the one of Nina. The soldier stuttered.

" M..Monster !"

He then rang the alarm and Nina knew that it wouldn't be long before a lot more guards would come in. She cursed under her breath before jumping out the window and landing on the ground. She then started running to the exit. But, someone tackled her to the ground before she could reach the door. She raised her eyes to see general McCain that cuffs her.

" Let me go !"

She screeches, but Liam only forces her up before injecting her with something. Nina feels herself taking back her true appearance and looks up at McCain with tears in her eyes.

" What did you do to me..?"

She asks and Liam smiles before raising the empty syringe.

"We injected you with the same substance in the patients' collars. You won't be able to use your powers for a while now.."

He takes her to one of St Louis' cells and then calls you.

" Y/N..We got one. But, she got time to get to Dr Wilson and I need you to come to the hospital.."

He doesn't have the time to finish his sentence before you run outside and run to the hospital nearest to St Louis. You run so fast that you fall once or twice in the process. One thought in your mind. Please, be alive..When you arrive, McCain is waiting for you at the entrance and you gasp for air before asking.

" Is he...alive ?"

Liam smiles weakly and nods.

" Barely..He's in a coma right now. The doctor said that he wasn't sure if he would ever wake up again.."

You hold back your tears before running inside.

" Y/N !"

Liam tries to stop you, but too late. You find him and finally, sob at the scene. Victor is attached to multiple tubes that give him air, since his lungs must have been drowned when they found him..You enter and take his hand.

" I'm so sorry..Victor.."

His eyes flutter behind his eyelids, but he doesn't wake up and you take a deep breath to calm yourself. You stay in silence for a while, until you hear someone else enter. You turn around and find Eva standing there. She had tearful eyes, but when she sees you, she walks away. You frown, not expecting that reaction, but understanding it as resentment, you don't question it further. After all, it is your fault that he finds himself in that situation..You turn towards Victoire once and lean towards him to whisper.

" I'm going to catch the b*stards who did this..I promise.."

Meanwhile on the other side of the door :

Eva heard you and can't help but punch the door out of frustration. She then runs away.

" D*mn it !"

When she comes back home, she doesn't notice the tall man standing in the doorway until she almost collides with his chest.

" Jesus ! What are you doing here ?!"

John tilts his head to the side and shrugs nonchalantly.

" Wanted to check on you. You seem..distressed ?"

Eva can't believe him and answers by raising her voice.

" Distressed...DISTRESSED ?! My best friend is at the hospital because of you, John ! You, and your little associates..I can't do this anymore..We were not supposed to hurt people.."

John quickly wraps his arms around her and comforts her while she starts sobbing in his chest.

" Ssh..I know..I'm sorry you had to go through this..But, Sir Reginald wanted to send a warning to Y/N's friends. They needed to understand the cost.."

Eva raises her head and John smiles down at her.

" I love you.."

He says and she smiles too.

" I love you too.."

They kiss and Eva leads him to her bedroom. She just needs to forget and be with the one we loves right now. John understands and kisses her again, making the final steps to the bedroom.

A few moments later :

Eva wakes up and gets up to look at herself in the mirror. She stares at her reflection and can't help but feel regret. She krew what she was getting into when she fell in love with John..She knew her purpose and why she was trained to become the perfect nurse..But, she had seen many things. Things that would crumble anyone's perception on the mission. She had seen Freddy show her kindness in the most unexpected moments..She had seen you, trying so hard to help the slashers where others had failed..And now, her best friend was at the hospital. John wakes up as well and seems to read her mind.

" It was necessary.."

He says and Eva closes her eyes to take a deep breath.

" I know..It doesn't hurt any less though.."

In another part of town :

Amita is humming to herself, walking up the stairs to her apartment until she sees two familiar shoes in front of her. She looks up to find...Five ? They stare at each other in shock for a few seconds, until she sees his hands, covered in blood. She whitens in fear and looks at her apartment's door, wide open.

"What did you do ?"

Five stays silent, a dark omen of what she would find on the other side..

"WHAT DID YOU DO ?!"

She repeats, but Five can only stand there with his eyes expressing sorrow for what he had done. He can only apologize..

" I'm sorry..They needed to send a warning.."

He then runs away before she could ask what he was apologizing for. She walks inside her apartment and finds...oh no...Her grocery bags fall to the floor as she finds her daughter, blood all over her body and her heart ripped out of her ribcage..But, she still can't believe it.

" Baby..Baby wake up !"

She screams in a desperate attempt to wake her up, but her daughter doesn't move and she can only sob.

" Why...WHY ?!"

Question that is left unanswered..Finally, a thought comes to her mind. You. She runs outside and rushes to your apartment. When she arrives, she sees that your apartment is in chaos and she can see that someone was searching for something in particular. She feels the rage boil into her veins and the sorrow takes over her. She kneels and starts crying, not hearing the door open. You notice the obvious disorder before seeing Amita, sobbing over her child's body. Your hand fly up to your mouth in horror and you whisper.

" No..."

She looks up at you with rage written all over her features.

"We're going to find them..and then, I'm going to kill them.."

It's a promise and you can't do anything but nod in agreement. Amita turns back to her baby girl's lifeless body and kisses her temple lovingly, tears still running down her cheeks as she makes her a promise.

" I promise, baby..These bastards will pay."

She then stands up and glances back at you.

" I'll bury her...And then, I'll kill the d*mn Redemption and Five...Do you have anything to say against that ?"

You frown when she threatens Five and can't help but defend him.

"F..Five was certainly forced, he was not in control.."

"Bullsh*t !"

She screams, her eyes wide open with rage.

" He did it ! He killed my baby !"

You bite your lower lip and finally hug your best friend that finally crumbles in your arms as she breaks into tears. You hold her and one final thought comes to your mind : Five, I hope that you're okay ?

At the Redemption headquarters :

Five tries to get rid of the blood that seems to be imprinted on his skin and his clothes, the stubborn dark stains reminding him of what he had done...

" Fuck !"

He finally shouts before throwing his wet blazer across the room. He finally sighs and leans back on his bed, hiding his face behind his trembling hands. He killed a child. Five tries to contain the tears that still spill on his cheeks. He feels powerless. He remembers everything. He remembers entering the apartment, hearing the girl enter and ripping her heart out of her ribcage as they had instructed him to do. He remembers her scream. He remembers colliding with her mother in the stairs, the terror in her eyes and, even worse, the emptiness inside him. He had killed before, but never children..and never like that. And, the worse is ? He knows that he'll remember it forever..He could convince himself that he did it because Sir Reginald said he would kill one of his siblings if he didn't obey. But, deep down ? He knows that a part of him enjoyed the killing, felt satisfaction in it. This is when he realizes, out of all the slashers ? He may very well be the worst.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 1990 #pennywise 1990 x y/n x pennywise 2017 #pennywise 2017 #pennywise x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #jason voorhees x reader #michael myers x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #slashers au #slashers #freddy krueger x reader

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tessisawriter · 3 years

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Invisible String, Part 1 (Colton Parayko)

Request: Can you write an imagine where the reader is John Krasinski’s [niece] but she’s dating Colton Parayko and like she has to breaks the news and John acts mad or something and scares them but then he says he’s joking and he’s fine with it? Thanks

***NOTE***: I changed some details in the last scene b/c I moved the timeline up from October 7 to September 14.

A/N: I’m back! The protagonist is an OC but I decided to call her Y/N instead of giving her an actual name b/c John Krasinski has nieces and/or nephews irl. I already planned the entire plot but idk whether the series will be 2 or 3 parts—I’ll post an update when I know more. This series takes place from March 2018 to June 2019 and is loosely based on Taylor Swift’s “Invisible String.” Here is the playlist.

Warnings: Six swear words, rough breakup, alcohol, loneliness & homesickness

Word Count: 3.4k

March 21, 2018

You were impervious to the mix of pitying and derisive glances from passersby as you sat on the curb. You knew you looked like a cliché, crying in front of a restaurant because your boyfriend broke up with you on your 22nd birthday, but you didn’t care. One question gnawed at you: how had six words upended your seemingly perfect day and relationship?

Your brain was buzzing with activity, wondering if Max had given you any clues that something was amiss. This morning, you woke up in his Cambridge apartment to him singing “Happy Birthday” while kneeling at the side of the bed. As soon as Max finished singing, he kissed you before grabbing his backpack and hurrying out of the room. That didn’t mean anything, though: Max was one of the only seniors to have the misfortune of taking all morning classes because his major was Theater, Dance, and Media. He was also (as usual) running late.

The rest of the day unfolded like any other Wednesday as you followed your schedule of lounging in bed, studying for an hour, going to the sandwich shop across the street for lunch, and heading to campus at 1PM for your classes. Afterwards, you went back to the apartment to find Max waiting there, already dressed for dinner. You quickly showered, curled your long (Y/HC) hair, and changed into a dark green dress and black booties before taking his hand and going to an Italian restaurant in Boston’s North End.

There were no warning signs at dinner, either. In fact, everything was perfect until you were waiting for the check and Max said with a detached look in his eyes, “I think we should break up.”

You didn’t want to relive what happened next, but the images of you acting like Elle Woods when Warner broke up with her in Legally Blonde popped into your head unbidden. You closed your eyes in humiliation and shame as you remembered Max, the man you dated for three years, abandoning you at the table and fleeing the restaurant. The other customers stared at you, some sympathetic, others scandalized, and the rest in pure shock.

You snapped out of the flashback when you felt a large hand rest on your shoulder. You whipped your head around to find a young man with blonde hair and black rimmed glasses squatting next to you on the curb.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

The panic faded as you took in the man’s features. He was definitely in his 20s, probably a few years older than you, and his blue eyes were filled with concern. Something about that concern, though, made you snap.

“Do I look like I’m okay? I mean, come on, look at me!” you demanded while pointing at your face, which you (correctly) assumed had giant black streaks of mascara on it.

You fully expected the man to walk away and leave you be, but he sat down on the curb instead and said, “My bad, that was a stupid question. I’ve got some tissues if you want them?”

That made your attitude soften. He was only trying to help, so you nodded and he handed you a pack of tissues from his pocket. You smiled at him, took the tissues, and wiped your eyes and face. As soon as you were satisfied that they were clean, you broke the silence. “Thank you…?”

“Colton, and it’s no problem. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You held out your hand for him to shake, which he did. After a pause, you asked: “Why did you stop? Surely you have somewhere better to be tonight.”

He chuckled, and the sound of it made your heart flutter. “I was just heading back to my hotel when I saw you, and I figured I’d stop and make sure you get home safe. That is, assuming you live here?”

“Yeah, I live in Cambridge.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you realized they were no longer true, so you amended your statement. “Well, I lived in Cambridge until about 15 minutes ago when my now ex-boyfriend dumped me. On my fucking birthday.”

“Shit, that sucks. I’m really sorry.” He paused before adding, “I’m assuming he isn’t here.”

“Nope. He hightailed it out of the restaurant as soon as he got his credit card back.”

Colton shook his head. “What a jackass.”

“I know, right? I wasted three whole years with someone who not only broke up with me in a very public setting on my birthday, but also couldn’t be bothered to ask where I would go! He probably assumed I’d go to my parents’ house, but still.”

“Your parents live here?” Colton asked as he fished his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it.

“Yeah, right by Boston Common, why?”

“I’ll get an Uber and drop you off before going back to the hotel.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” you protested while going through your bag for your phone. “We just met! I’ll pay.”

“Nonsense. You’ve been through a lot tonight. Let me take care of it.”

You stared into Colton’s eyes and realized he wasn’t going to back down. It took everything in you to suppress your pride, thank him, and provide the address. Colton typed it into his phone, waited for a moment, and said, “The closest one is around the block.”

“That’s good.” Your burst of energy dissipated as quickly as it came, and you fell silent. From the corner of your eye, you saw Colton open his mouth as if to say something before the headlights of a car momentarily blinded you.

“That’s the Uber.” Colton stood up and offered his hand, and you took it. You couldn’t help but notice how well they fit together as he pulled you up and off the curb, but after regaining your balance, something else grabbed your attention: his height.

“Gee, how tall are you? No one’s ever made me feel like a dwarf before,” you joked as he led you to the car, your hands still intertwined.

He chuckled and opened the door for you. You let go of his hand and slid into the car. After Colton slid in next to you and shut the door, he replied, “I’m 6’6” and no one’s ever made me feel like I’m not a giant before. You’re what, 5’10”?”

“6 feet, actually,” you corrected him. “So, where are you from, Colton?”

“St. Albert; it’s just outside Edmonton in Canada, but I’ve been in the States for a while. I went to the University of Alaska in Fairbanks before moving to, uh, St. Louis.”

You noticed Colton’s hesitancy and the fact that he lowered his voice when saying “St. Louis,” and you were about to ask why when you thought better of it. You were protective of your privacy, too, especially whenever people commented about how funny it was that you shared the same last name as John Krasinski. It wasn’t a coincidence—he was your uncle, and the two of you were extremely close—but you went along with it and never corrected them because it wasn’t their business. So, you let it go. “And what brings you to Boston?”

“Work,” he said before changing the subject. “What do you do? Are you still in school or—”

“I’m a senior at Harvard,” you cut him off. You generally didn’t drop the “H-bomb,” as you and your friends called it, with people you didn’t know well, but this was a special case. Colton just confirmed he was hiding something, and after looking at him in better lighting, his face seemed familiar, which weirded you out. You had to get back on equal footing, and the H-bomb almost always unsettled people.

“Wow, you must be really smart,” Colton said, seeming impressed but unphased. You couldn’t help yourself from raising an eyebrow as he asked, “What’s your major?”

“Government. What was yours?”

“Business administration.”

“Ah.” You fell silent again, this time on purpose, as you racked your brain for where you might have crossed paths with Colton. He wasn’t from Boston, not even close, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d seen him before, and recently.

Colton didn’t let you ruminate for long before reviving the conversation. “What do you want to do when you graduate?”

“I’ll be a lawyer one day, but I have to be a paralegal first. I’m looking for jobs right now.”

Before Colton could reply, the car came to a stop. You looked out the window and saw your parents’ townhouse and your childhood home.Your time in the car had flown by, a sensation you rarely, if ever, experienced. And there was something between you and Colton, a connection you couldn’t quite describe, that made you want to spend more time with him. But your time was up. “This is me. It was nice to meet you, Colton, and thanks again for the ride—I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” he replied. “I’m glad I found you.”

You were overwhelmed by an intense desire to ask for his number. If only he lived in Boston or somewhere in the Northeast. But he lived in St. Louis, so you moved to open the door, only to feel Colton’s hand wrap around yours and hear him say: “Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You turned around and locked eyes with him. It was like being in a trance, and your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

It felt like years, but it was more like a few moments before Colton let go of your hand. “Good luck with the search. I’m sure you’ll find a good job.”

You wanted to let out a sigh of disappointment, but you just said, “Thanks,” and smiled at him before getting out of the car.

***************

The smell of bacon finally lured you out of your bed at noon the next day.

It had been a rough night. The reality of the breakup hit you like a ton of bricks when you rang the doorbell and all but collapsed in your mom’s arms when she answered the door. She brought you over to the couch, where your dad was waiting anxiously. As soon as you sat down, you grabbed your mom and cried for an hour straight as she held you and stroked your hair. You knew Max wasn’t worth your tears, but it had more to do with you. Despite his major, he wasn’t that good of an actor, and yet, he fooled you into thinking he could be your person. You took immense pride in your instincts, but they failed you with Max. How could you have possibly fallen in love with such a heartless person? More terrifying, would you have ended up marrying him a few years down the road if he hadn’t broken up with you?

You didn’t know the answer to either question, so you stopped crying and began venting about how the breakup went down. Your dad almost hit the ceiling after hearing that Max left you at the restaurant, and you had to talk him out of driving to Cambridge to “give that little shit a piece of my mind!” That wasn’t to say you weren’t thinking about revenge, but your dad potentially getting arrested was not helpful. After that, you started crying again, only this time out of frustration, and didn’t stop until you practically passed out on the couch. The last thing you remembered was your parents guiding you up the stairs to your bed.

Thankfully, you had no classes on Thursdays, so you were able to sleep in and be, if nothing else, well-rested. Your stomach rumbled when you smelled the bacon, so you got out of bed and made your way down the stairs to the kitchen, where your parents were sitting at the table and watching the television.

“Ugh, why are you watching the news?” you said as a way of greeting while making a beeline for the bacon.

“Good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” your dad replied. “I’m waiting for the sports report. I missed the game last night and Uncle John wouldn’t tell me the score. He said he’s sorry about, I quote, ‘the scumbag’ and he’ll call you tonight.”

“God, I miss him. And you,” you addressed your mom as you shoveled a load of bacon onto your plate, “are the best.”

“See, honey? I knew bacon would cheer her up,” she said to your dad.

“I didn’t doubt it. Y/N, we have to figure out a time to get your stuff from that piece of shit’s apartment. I’m not letting you go by yourself, but do you want to let him know ahead of time or just show up?”

“Who did the B’s play?” you sat down at the table and changed the subject immediately. You didn’t care about sports, but your dad and Uncle John were major Bruins fans and the mere mention of Max gave you a headache.

“The Blues.”

“Where do they play again?” you asked as you ate your bacon. It had to be a team from the Western Conference, but the only teams you knew there were the Canucks and Blackhawks because they were on your dad’s shit list.

“St. Louis.”

You almost choked on your food. “What?”

“St. Louis, sweetie. You know, the Gateway Arch—”

“Yeah, I know, Mom,” you recovered. “That’s the team Jenna likes, right, Dad?”

“Yes. Shh, here it is!” He didn’t need to tell you twice; you doubted Colton was a professional hockey player, but your curiosity won out as you intently watched the television.

The score flashed on the screen—an OT loss for the Bruins—and your dad groaned. “Ugh, I’ve got to turn this garbage off.”

And suddenly, a few Blues players, including one that looked awfully similar to Colton (albeit without glasses), flashed onto the screen. You didn’t get a good enough look at him to be sure, though, because your dad changed the channel. You let out a noise of frustration.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” your mom asked, and your dad looked like he had the same question when he turned away from the television.

“I’ll text the scumbag and tell him I’m coming this afternoon, if that’s okay with you, Dad,” you said. “I want to get it over with and besides, I need my laptop and textbooks.”

“That’s perfect, sweetheart. The office doesn’t need me today, anyway.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back; my phone’s upstairs,” you called out behind you as you raced back up the stairs. You did not want to text Max, but it was better than telling your dad that the man he praised for making sure you got home last night was potentially part of the team responsible for his beloved Bruins’ loss.

You locked your bedroom door and grabbed your phone to pull up Google and the St. Louis Blues roster. Part of you thought there was no way a professional hockey player actually cared enough to bring you home, but the Blues being in town and one of its members resembling Colton were too many coincidences for your liking. You tapped your foot impatiently as the phone loaded the roster, and you scrolled through the list until you found a name of interest.

“C. Parayko, 55, R, 6’6’’…”

It cut off after that, so you scrolled sideways to see the other information. It left you without a shadow of doubt, but you clicked on the name anyway to view a picture. Colton’s headshot and full first name stared back at you as if they were looking into your soul.

It really was him. You had to have seen him on the little television at the sandwich shop’s register yesterday.

But what did this information mean for you, really, besides discovering his identity? It was nice to know his full name because it confirmed that he was a real person instead of a delusion your reeling mind made up, but it didn’t change one important fact: you lived in Boston and he lived in St. Louis. Barring a radical change in one of your lives, which you didn’t see happening, that was the reality of the situation. It was time to stop dreaming and confront your immediate future.

You pulled up Max’s number and began composing the text which, after several drafts, read: “I’ll be at the apartment today from 3 to 5. My dad’s coming with me, so make yourself scarce. I want my shit back.”

***************

6 months later: September 14, 2018

You were miserable only two weeks after relocating to St. Louis.

It was funny how one phone call could completely change someone’s life. In your case, said phone call involved an extremely attractive job offer with a clear path for advancement within one year. The offers you had received from legal firms in Boston, New York, D.C., and Philadelphia were underwhelming, to say the least, and you were only a week away from graduation. You had already endured a lot of change this year, so why not one more?

After nearly giving your parents a heart attack but ultimately receiving their blessing, you accepted the offer and moved to St. Louis on September 1st. Uncle John had been especially supportive, enlisting Jenna (known by the rest of the world as Pam from The Office) to fly out from L.A. and show you around the city last week. She made sure you knew the ins and outs of the city, which you really appreciated. You also loved your job. You were doing important work every day, and your boss was already hinting at giving you the promotion you wanted.

So, why were you unhappy? It was your social life, or rather, lack of one. You didn’t know anyone in St. Louis, and while your coworkers weren’t mean, they didn’t make you feel welcome, either.

That seemed to have changed earlier today when two of your desk neighbors who were around your age, Harper and Ellie, invited you out for drinks after work. You couldn’t have been happier. You went home after work, did your hair and makeup, put on your favorite royal blue mini dress, and met them at the dive bar you recommended. You were so excited on the way over that you could barely sit still; maybe you’d make friends with these girls and finally feel like you fit in in this city.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. Harper and Ellie abandoned you within less than five minutes after two guys came over and asked them to dance. You were now sitting at the bar alone, nursing a cocktail and despairing over your situation.

It was times like these when you thought about Colton. It had been six months since you’d met him in Boston, and you didn’t want to risk looking like a lunatic by slipping into his DMs on Instagram, but you were getting desperate. It was bad enough that being from the Northeast made you stick out like a sore thumb, but the loneliness was eating you alive, and the combination made you feel unmoored. Maybe a familiar and friendly face could change that.

As if God had answered your prayers, you heard a commotion near the entrance. You swiveled your stool in that direction and saw a group of tall, good-looking men in their 20s entering the bar. The tallest one had blonde hair and black rimmed glasses.

It was Colton.

Your brain screamed at you to look away and approach him after he settled in, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he laughed at something one of his friends said. It was as if he felt your stare because he suddenly looked in your direction and appeared to gasp.

It was only then that you turned away and faced the bar, drinking the rest of your cocktail in a few gulps. You were so embarrassed; he probably thought you were a stalker or something. You were about to flag down the bartender for another drink when you felt that familiar large hand rest on your shoulder.

You turned your head and found Colton staring at you, his blue eyes full of incredulity and…happiness?

“Y/N. It’s really you,” he breathed.

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