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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 11:31:26 GMT -5
It’s winter time, and all of us are decorating the house we now have together. It is not exactly going smoothly.
Live with your friends, they said, it’ll be fun, they said.
Everest and I are a couple now, but we’re not the only ones loved up. There is a particularly disgusting scene happening on the other side of the room where Macaria has just finished putting up the mistletoe and is using the opportunity to kiss Alessandro. Holly walks in and sees the scene, raising her eyebrow before promptly making a mock retching noise.
“Get a room,” Holly comments
“We have one,” Alessandro points out
“I know,” Holly says in a mock sweet tone “use it.”
But then she notices Macaria’s outfit, and I instantly know she isn’t happy. She tilts her head as she approaches Macaria.
“Is that my shirt?” Holly asks
“Amadrya’s clothes are too big,” Macaria replies, adjusting the shirt Holly is commenting on, “plus she doesn’t care about fashion at all.”
“Watch it,” I warn absently, but she’s not wrong
“Why do you have to borrow anyone’s clothes?” Holly asks incredulously “you have a full wardrobe.”
“It’s the season of giving, isn’t it?” Macaria replies smugly
Holly doesn’t have anything to say to that, just walks away muttering about giving Macaria a punch. But secretly we know she’s not that mad. Borrowing clothes is the kind of annoying thing siblings do, after all. I watch as the black-haired girl goes back to her task, making some decorations for us. She’s the best at that kind of thing, though Burton is a close second. Being from District 8, they both have an eye for detail.
Talking or Burton, the boy has just come rushing down the stairs. He always comes down so fast he almost falls every time, not that he ever seems to care. It appears he’s wrapped some presents, which he puts under the tree I’m currently decorating with Everest helping me.
He is actually the only one of us who is wearing a Christmas jumper, though he has attempted to convince the rest of us to do so. He thinks it’d be particularly amusing if Macaria or Holly wore one, but both have refused. As far as festive dress, only I have anything else remotely resembling it, with a red ribbon in my hair, which is loose. I haven’t worn it tied up since we escaped torture. It’s too painful to have any reminders of what I went through. Only Everest is able to help me when I get flashbacks, which are not becoming less frequent. I had one only a little while ago when a picture of Louden cane up on the television.
But I turn my attention to Burton’s presents.
“Burton,” I comment, looking at the presents “don’t you want to rewrap those?”
To put it less tactfully, they’re an absolute mess. And I was just thinking about how good he is at detail and stuff, that’s kind of disappointing. But still, it doesn’t surprise me that he’s terrible at wrapping.
“What? It’s endearing!” Burton objects “it’s the thought that counts.”
We just laugh, and watch as Burton places the misshapen presents under the tree. It’s sweet that it was his idea for us all to exchange gifts. We are all giving each other gifts, but we’ve got a Secret Santa thing going too. I got Ari, and I’m planning to sneak to District 7 (which isn’t far away) and get him something special from there. Something you can only get from home that none of the others would think of. A special gift from one of the more obscure shops the others don’t know.
Ari and Halina are baking in the kitchen; they wanted to bake some festive cookies, which is fair enough I suppose. They’re probably making a mess but honestly who cares? It’s our house anyway. Besides they’re pretty good at cooking.
Everest and I have finished decorating the tree, and it’s finally time to switch the lights on. Alessandro does so, and the tree lights up. At that moment Everest draws me in by the waist, turning to give me a kiss. Holly groans again.
“It’s not Valentine’s Day,” she sighs “so many rooms in this house and the couples have to get all soppy in this one.”
Burton laughs, throwing a ribbon at her off one of the presents
“Leave them alone,” he laughs “it’s Christmas.”
The general consensus among the group is that although Burton and Holly aren’t officially together, they definitely felt something for one another at some point. None of us are sure if they’ll get together properly, but we’re all kind of hoping they will.
That’s when we hear the fire alarm beeping from the kitchen.
“Um....” comes Ari’s voice “I think the cookies are overdone!”
A smoke smell fills the room.
“Again?” I groan “we just got this house!”
And we all rush to try and save our kitchen and, more importantly, some cookies.
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 11:33:38 GMT -5
(Aww I love Catullus/Burton.
screw you Louden.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 11:40:46 GMT -5
(Aww I love Catullus/Burton. screw you Louden.)Hahaha thank you x writing him is so fun he’s like a puppy Big mood)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 11:58:06 GMT -5
(I love it.
I love it so much!)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 12:04:46 GMT -5
(I’m writing some fluff today.
I may attempt something kind of romantic for both Arlo and Holly.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 12:25:51 GMT -5
(Thank you x I’m glad you like it! I can’t wait to see what kind of fluff you write
Yeah so for Holly and Burton I kinda did a middle ground. They don’t have to actually be together, but they could always be like a will-they-won’t-they kinda thing or like they flirt occasionally (this is sounding like friends with benefits oops)
Anyway my priority for today is kid Macaria, then maybe a Lark thing, then maybe the board games)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 12:37:15 GMT -5
I am growling softly, sitting in a chair that doesn’t have any restraints, and I’m staring forward, around my black glass(by the looks of it) surround me, and I notice sensors overhead.
It’s an odd little thing, but it’s there and it bothers me, greatly.
I should have known something would happen, because suddenly, the door opens, and in comes Louden, baring a confident stride and walking in the room, alone, before closing the door.
In his arms are a set of keys, which he sets in the table between myself and him, and I stare at them a moment, before quirking an eyebrow at him.
“Why are you here?” I question, uncertain, but he simply shakes his head, clicking his tongue.
“Patience, young one, my words offer plenty, so listen-“
“I’m already getting annoyed, talk faster,” I demanded, before hearing a soft meowing.
Damnit, my weakness is in front of me, I didn’t notice the cage he had, or the soft black and white kitten he had until he set it on the table.
“I swear you kill this cat to hurt me and I’ll kill you myself.” I hissed, grabbing the kitten into my hands, already possessive and protective.
“I’m not that heartless,” I give him a glare at his words, and he shakes his head, “I’m here to offer a bargain,”
“Here we go again,” I roll my eyes, grumbling.
“We’re letting you out of here,” Wait, wait....wait wait wait....
That wasn’t Louden. That voice wasn’t Louden’s.
Louden wasn’t nice.
“Wow, they did a good job on the makeup,” I commented, before smirking deeply, “Where’s the real one?”
“With the Rebels.” Burton commented with a soft laugh, and I looked at the kitten quickly.
“Is Catastrophe okay?” I suddenly asked, worried, figures that I’d stress over my little girl.
“Uh,” he commented before laughing softly, “Yeah, that’s one of her kittens.”
I blinked, before cooing and standing up, protecting my precious cargo, “She had kittens?” I asked, before cuddling the kitten, noticing out of the corner of my eye the grin that Burton bore.
“Let’s get out of here,” he commented, grabbing my arm and starting to run.
I followed, but I glared as I heard gunshots, “Wait, why the hell did you bring a cat with you into a war zone?” I snapped, still running.
Was it just me, or did he look a little nervous for a second, “I-“ he started weakly, before sighing, “I wanted to make you happy.”
Oh.
Well, I shake my head, and run after him, happy to find my friends soon after.
And when I had a moment alone, I settled down with the kitten and stroked her fur softly, glancing at my friends behind me, before turning back, “Hey little girl,” I commented, before almost choking on my words.
“How about I name you Hope?”
(Whatever it’s not romantic but was meant to be another escape idea in which Holly gets a cat.
And then gets emotional because for the first time in years she’s actually feeling hope, and feeling loved.)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 12:41:03 GMT -5
“I have a soft spot for cats. Damnit.” - Summary of Holly and the last fic.)
If Louden offered her a cat, I could totally see her doing anything to protect it.
and their house probably has tons of strays now tbh.
Well, for the fluff I’m writing, it’s not canon(obviously), but I never write anything that’s suoer domestic and adorable, so Holly and Burton will probably be a thing in the one I write(which again, isn’t canon), Halina and Ari crushing might be in another(again, not canon).
You know, the canon ship’ll be in there though.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 12:41:35 GMT -5
Ohmygodohmygod too much cuteness in one post
Catastrophe had kittens? Yes please! I need more cat content
Calling her Hope is absolutely adorable too and so symbolic what with her mother being Catastrope. Hope coming from bad places, new beginnings. Too cute
The cute moments between her and Burton? Everything I need in life
Also I love that they made him look like Louden. Burton wearing makeup to disguise himself (especially as Louden) is so apt what with the Catullus timeline
I love it!)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 12:43:00 GMT -5
“I have a soft spot for cats. Damnit.” - Summary of Holly and the last fic.) If Louden offered her a cat, I could totally see her doing anything to protect it. and their house probably has tons of strays now tbh.Well, for the fluff I’m writing, it’s not canon(obviously), but I never write anything that’s suoer domestic and adorable, so Holly and Burton will probably be a thing in the one I write(which again, isn’t canon), Halina and Ari crushing might be in another(again, not canon). You know, the canon ship’ll be in there though.) Hahahahaha I agree with Holly when it comes to cats. And yes I bet they adopted every stray in Panem! Awww well that’s adorable! I don’t even care if it’s not canon I need it XD especially the Halina and Ari content they’d be an adorable couple) |
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 12:47:42 GMT -5
Also I can confirm you will be getting kid Macaria today, I’m about to start working on it and I’m hyped
So... how much do you want your heart broken?)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 13:02:46 GMT -5
Take it and shred it.
Yes.
I’m starting on some content soon, what do you want to see first, Arlo and Macaria or Holly and Burton.
dont worry, the Halina Ari stuff will be a side ship in either :3
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 13:06:57 GMT -5
[Hahahaha will do! I wasn't able to find a image for baby Macaria but I'm sure it's fine just use your imagination haha. Big green and brown eyes and long dark hair and she probably had dimples because adorable. Maybe the dimples are why Macaria never smiles because it's hard to look tough with dimples let's be real.
Hmmmmmmmmm okay well I absolutely adore both those couples but maybe Holly and Burton? cos they have such an entertaining dynamic and yessss[
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 13:10:28 GMT -5
Ohh my goodness, adorable :3.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 13:11:13 GMT -5
I do, however, have an abundance of images for young Amadrya XD Like this one: |
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 13:12:45 GMT -5
(Also, it’ll be up soon!)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 13:13:15 GMT -5
Oh my goodness adorable!
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 13:15:10 GMT -5
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 13:15:53 GMT -5
[Thanks x Ooh I can't wait to see  I'm working on Macaria. The first part is going to be her when she's six, then the next part I may jump to an older age, maybe eleven. Maybe even I do a younger teenager, like fourteen or fifteen. Then the grown up Macaria you know. Kind of a chronicle of her life] |
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 13:19:41 GMT -5
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 14:10:36 GMT -5
(Thanks.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 14:13:45 GMT -5
[I'm almost done with Macaria! Just one more section to do.
I've included song lyrics, each age period has a different song with it. Apart from the 18-year-old section, the final one. That one has a mixture of lines from each of the songs previously used.]
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 14:22:40 GMT -5
(Oh cool!)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 14:23:48 GMT -5
I was left to my own devices
Many days fell away with nothing to show
And the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love
Grey clouds roll over the hills
Bringing darkness from above This is the day my life begins and ends.
I am six years old. Small, with green eyes with their distinctive brown ring around the pupil. My hair is dark brown and long, and it is very unkempt. When I was at home with my mother and sister it always used to be impeccably styled in pretty buns. I'm thin, too thin. It's clear that I haven't eaten properly in some time, and my cheekbones are protruding more than they should above my hollow cheeks. My lips are dry and chapped, so much so that my bottom lip is bleeding. My eyes are starting to take on a glassy look, and I know that isn't good.
I didn't have enough to eat even at home. We were fine before the quarantine, I never went to bed hungry. But after the disease began to spread nobody wanted to deliver food to my part of the district. And the food supplies were gone very quickly, and the little food we did have was reserved for the sick, which I never was. But since Lucasta got me out, I've been on the streets, and I haven't eaten out here either. I very quickly learned that the people on my district don't care for street urchins. Nobody seems to recognize me, or they'd know I am from a respectable family. Or was, I suppose.
It's growing dark, and the air starts to take on a sudden chill - it will only deepen. It is the kind of cold that leeches the life out of you, bites down to your very bones until you ache to your core. My head is beginning to ache, and I am moving slowly. I need to do something; winter is fast approaching and I am starving. I'll freeze to death one of these nights.
Lucasta told me that if all else fails, I could go to the academy. They'd take me in, give me at least some food and a bed, and some warm clothes.
Going there, though, would mean accepting that my mother and sister really aren't coming back. I already had to do that with my dad last year, and I don't want to have to do it again. It hurts too much.
I miss them so much that it hurts far more than my shutting-down body. I love them, I need them, I can't take care of myself. They are the people I trusted with everything, the people I trusted would never leave me, would always be there to take care of me. And they're gone and I'm alone and there's nobody to care about me anymore. All my six-year-old brain can comprehend is that I miss them and I don't want them to be gone.
But they are. And I don't want to die either, I'm too scared. And if I can't take care of myself then I need to do what Lucasta said and find the academy. They won't love me but they'll keep me alive. I know the place isn't far from here.
And so I stagger onward, hindered now by growing winds. The clouds are threatening rain too, so the sooner I find shelter the better. I have to get to the academy before it gets too dark.
As I walk, tears slip down my cheeks. The wind whips my skin until the tears grow so cold in the freezing air that they feel like they burn. But I have to keep going. Something primal in me is telling me I have to keep walking. As would become a theme in my life, I know I have the choice between surviving and giving up. I choose, and always would choose, surviving. Or trying to at least.
Eventually, I reach the academy. Nobody seems to be there, or at least not awake, and so I just lie down on the doorstep. There is shelter from the rain that is about to fall, and I know they'll find me in the morning.
And, scared and cold but with the closest thing I've had to hope in a long time, I drift off to sleep._____________________ And all the people say
'You can't wake up, this is not a dream
You're part of a machine, you are not a human being
With your face all made up, living on a screen
Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline'
I'm eleven years old now. Still a little short for my age, as I would always be, but lean. My hair was falling in long straight sheets, tied up in a ponytail. When I was little my hair was curly, as it naturally is, but for the rest of my life after I was taken in by the academy I straightened it. I stopped smiling so I could hide my dimples. I kept a serious expression on my face and a sharpness behind my eyes. I didn't have anything else except the academy, so I would be everything they expected. I would be top of my class, I would be the best career the Games had ever seen, win the most spectacular victory. I'd make my district proud, finally have a house of my own. Leave the academy, and finally have a life for myself. Maybe then I'd be happy, maybe then I'd be able to find myself.
But in the meantime, I had to let emotion leave me. I had to be a robot.
I am training along with the other students at the academy. We take a few hours training every day as well as our classes on Arena techniques, what to expect in the Games, survival strategies, wooing the Capitol, creating personas. Basically a cheat sheet to prepare us for everything in the Games from staying alive in the Arena to manipulating the Capitol audience. We have classes separately, but students of all ages train together.
I'm at an archery station with my instructor, and the throwing knife station is right next to us, currently occupied by a scary-looking eighteen-year-old girl who hits the target every time. In hindsight, I now know that her amazing knife skills didn't stop her getting her throat cut in the Games that year.
So I do everything I've been taught; feet shoulder-width apart and 90 degrees to the target. Draw the bow back until the string touches my cheek. But when I let my arrow fly I still miss spectacularly.
And the instructor beside me is furious.
"This is ridiculous, Slayte! You miss every single time. God forbid you ever end up in the Games, you'll be an utter embarrassment. You're absolutely nothing like your sister, she was incredible. Best we'd ever seen. Now she, she was a girl with promise. Would have brought pride to this district."
With each word he speaks I grow more embarrassed and more angry. My cheeks redden and suddenly, before I know what I'm doing, I'm grabbing a knife from the throwing station. And I can't stop myself, my body seems to be moving on its own and I'm terrified that I'm about to hurl the blade at my instructor. But I don't. I hurl it at the target in anger, hardly looking really.
It hits the bullseye.
There's a moment of stunned silence from everyone in the area who saw what happened, but I don't stay around to check their reactions. I just turn and stalk out of the room, shoving open the doors and dissapearing as I angrily wipe the tears from my cheeks.
I only take note of one person on my way out, a boy about my own age who I know from my classes. He was at a nearby station. I know him; he is well known in the academy as one of the most promising of the eleven-year-olds. Top of his class, just as I aim to be. He makes it all look effortless, and I can see the same determination in him that resides in me.
Everest Stonewell.
________________________
And all the kids cried out
'Please stop, you're scaring me'
I can't help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?
I am fifteen years old, and it is three years before my Games. I am lean, strong, fast. Top of my class. Absolutely none of the other students can best me at throwing knives, though that is the only area in which I have natural ability. Everything else is just a lot of hard work and practise. I am miles better at throwing knives than anything else, and I'm still not good at archery. But it doesn't matter. I have distinguished myself, as was my plan. Now it isn't long before I'll be volunteering for my Games when I am eighteen, and I will win. I'll finally have a life that isn't the Games and the academy.
It is the summertime, and for a few weeks in summer the students have time off. It's time for students to make preparations for that year's Games, especially if they plan on volunteering. I won't. I plan on biding my time. The strategy I have for the Games? It rests upon people believing me to be innocent, a total airhead. Volunteering for the Games is guaranteed to mark me out. Besides, I'm not ready yet. A few more years to practise won't hurt.
It is this holiday period for the other students now, but I have nowhere to go and so I remain in the academy, mainly training as I am now, as I stand in the training room hurling a spear (an unusual choice for me, which is why I have to practise) at a target.
I'm mainly using the time to think.
I scare myself, is what I can't help thinking. I don't know who I am, and the thoughts I have terrify me. Plans for how I plan to win the Games. Bloodthirsty thoughts. I'm the killing machine the academies are designed to turn out and I hate it so much. I've lost who I am. My morals are destroyed, replaced only with a desire to win and to please the Capitol and achieve victory for myself.
I know it's propaganda, and the worst thing is I was aware of the lie even as I myself was falling for it.
Because what choice do I have? Whether I believe it or not, it won't change anything. If I don't go into the Games, I don't have any chance of getting a job after the academy because let's face it, nobody wants to hire an orphan teenager who doesn't even have a house to go to. I won't have anywhere to go, I rely upon the house in the Victor's Village.
My fate is already set in stone; I will go into the Games, and I will kill. And with any luck, I will win. So there's no room for morals or for principles. Knowing the truth, not falling for the lie, it doesn't help me. It will only make me hate myself when I become a murderer.
At least if I believe the lie I can get some sleep at night.
___________________________________________
How can I be an optimist about this?
How can I be an optimist about this?
I'm standing in the square, and every cell in my body seems electrified. This is the moment, it is everything my life has prepared me for. This is my destiny, it is my fate and my only path.
I'm about to enter into the Hunger Games.
The Capitol escort is still busy twittering on the stage, but she's about to head over to choose the female tribute. If she doesn't call out my name I will have to volunteer, even though it throws my whole strategy into jeopardy. This is the final year in which I can be in the Games, so it's now or never.
I won't let this be ruined.
The woman steps forward, and almost in slow motion I watch as she picks out a name from the bowl, returning to the microphone to read out the name of the lucky tribute.
"Macaria Slayte."
I think there's a flaw in my code
These voices won't leave me alone
Well my heart is gold and my hands are cold
Nobody moves to volunteer, probably because the other students in the academy know I have the best chance of winning and bringing glory to this district. And because they know I would personally kill them before they even got onto the stage if they tried to do that.
As I begin to move towards the stage, the images of my mother and sister flash unbidden in my mind, making my physically jolt. I know they wouldn't want me to throw away my life. But they're dead. Besides, wouldn't they be proud of me for being part of the Games? It's an honour, after all.
I push their faces out of my mind, because if I think about them know I don't know what will happen. But I certainly will not risk breaking down on the television, which would just be plain embarassing.
Finally, though, I reach the stage. I continue with the coy act I already had planned, pretending I'm all shocked and honoured and oh so humble. I even throw in a giggle to cement the whole airhead thing.
I have to do this. I will do this.
Finally, I've accepted that I'll never be who I want to be. This is my true self, and I'll never be anyone else. I'm a cold killer, and that's all there is to it.
Might as well own it.
I'm well acquainted
With villains that live in my bed
They beg me to write them
So they'll never die when I'm dead
And I've grown familiar
With villains that live in my head
They beg me to write them
So I'll never die when I'm dead |
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 14:36:21 GMT -5
(I love the songs you picked!
Pompeii, Gasoline, and Control, am I correct?)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 14:39:40 GMT -5
(I love the songs you picked! Pompeii, Gasoline, and Control, am I correct?) You’re absolutely right! I listened to Pompeii today and it’s an old favourite x and I love Halsey <3) |
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 15:24:03 GMT -5
As cheesy at the phrase is, I can’t help but remark it to Macaria, who I surprisingly have grown rather close to.
“I won’t say I’m in love,” I hissed out, wincing as soon as I said it, “Because I’m not!”
She’s been pestering me(not really, she’s been talking but it’s my narrative and it’s my choice of how I say this), and I’m annoyed.
Somehow, it went from Macaria simply talking about her and Alessandro and her having thought me and Button would have been a thing already considering our actions in the games, she literally just just, “It’s surprising, looking back, I always thought something was going on between you and Burton, but-“
So my smart brain decided I needed to become defensive, spitting out whatever was on my mind without thinkings, “I won’t say I’m in love!” I hissed, crossing my arms, and oh shit was I getting a look, so I tagged on an angry, but slightly meek, “Because I’m not!”
And now this was canon-balling out of control.
“I-“ She looked a little dumbstruck, “I never said anything?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh look at the time, I gotta go!” I glanced at my wrist, which had no watch, and bolted out the doors, already slightly panicked.
And that’s how I was reawakened to the fact that I had fallen in love with Burton, hard.
—
Luckily, Macaria only tried talking to me about it once, she wasn’t good at feelings either, other than flirting, and she didn’t comment much more than, “I’ll never understand you,” with shaking her head and a teasing tone.
So, as things do, things started to return to normal, the others seemed to be happy. Our little house was full of couples, Amadrya and Everest had been together since we escaped, Macaria and Alessandro were one as wel.
I fought back a smirk as I watched Halina and Ari talking, a small blush colored the younger girl’s cheeks, and Ari was animated and looked happy, speaking in a soft voice.
So engrossed in the two younger lovebirds, I jumped when Amadrya rested a hand on my shoulder, before glaring back.
“Are you Alright?” She questioned, raising a curious eyebrow.
“I’m peachy,” I commented, noticing as Everest approached us and he looked up.
Mistletoe, which was jokingly replaced with a spruce of Holly, and I turned a glare in Burton’s direction.
I already knew who was responsible for that, and I backed away quickly as Everest and Amadrya exchanged a glance, before staring at me like owls.
“Oh-oh-oh...” I commented raising my hands, “Hell to the no, knock yourself out, leave my out of it.”
They both snickered, sharing a quick kiss right there that had me smiling fondly, before I noticed Ari and Halina glancing my direction.
I faked a gag, rolling my eyes while hollering out, “Get a room!”
After the incident with the holly(I was still snickering to myself about this), I walked haphazardly through the house, finding one of my favorite spots easily.
I snuck in, it wasn’t my room, but Burton’s, and I nestled into a little den of blankets and pillows from his couch. It comforted me, greatly, to be in his presence. After years of loneliness and a stone-hearted view on life, it was hard to accept friendship.
When I first met Burton, at the reaping, I saw him in the crowd, glancing at me after I mouthed my words, he seemed to understand my message, understand me.
Then he was chosen, we shook hands, and he seemed to understand me, maybe not my life, what I had been through, but he understood my hate. He shared in it.
I decided at that moment, he was someone I could trust.
Our little jokes made me befriend him further, and his determination to defend those he loved made me want to protect him, because he was someone that could change everything.
I spelled his blankets encompassed in warmth, and reminded that the cozy area was not a prison. As odd as smelling his blankets was, it reminded me of him and calmed me, and the warmth from them reminded me of his hugs.
The only issue?
I didn’t realize I fell asleep there.
—
I woke up maybe an hour later. My body was rested more comfortably on the couch, tucked in with a few blankets and even a little pillow out under my head. On the ground before me, where I was when I was awake, a figure sat, staring at the television in front of him.
I cuddled in more, before my eyes widened in shock. The comforting warmth felt like a blown out flame, and I scurried up immediately.
Burton glanced back at me, raising an eyebrow.
“How did I get up here?” I asked dumbly.
He fixed me with a quizzical look, we both knew I snuck into his room, and that he, being the nice guy he is, picked me up from the floor and let me sleep on his couch.
I switched to a glare, refusing to admit that I slept better, even if only for a few hours, than I had since we got there. My nightmares kept me up, and I think maybe he knew that.
I wasn’t admitting it, and as I responded to everything, I stood up to storm or instead of facing the situation.
“Holly?” He started, but I was already out the door.
—
The differences were subtle, I didn’t even recognize them at first. One day, we decided to have a friend-family movie night(we were all family now, right?), and watched a movie. A scene came up that had Amadrya, Everest and I twisting in terror.
Alessandro changed the channel right as the group of kids in the movie were caught and kidnapped, and winced when it switched to a report of Louden and the cells underneath, people speculating on what happened.
So he turned off the TV, and left the room in darkness.
I curled in on myself, forcing memories out. They were too fresh, and I felt the beginnings of a panic attack coming, my chest feeling to heavy and tight, I could tell Everest and Amadrya were hugging one another deeply.
No one pitied me, which I was glad for, but most assumed in needed space. The two sitting beside me, Macaria and Burton, both looked concerned as I sucked in breaths, my hands shaking.
Macaria backed up, but Burton simply hummed, reminding me I was there, not in the Capital.
A little tune from District 8, and I calmed, burrowing my own head into his arms. I felt safer.
That night, many tears were shared, instead of laughs.
—
That took us the Christmas Day, all of us sitting around the tree we had placed, presents settled around us. We did a Secret Santa thing, and all of us got each other something too.
My Secret Santa was Macaria, much to my chagrin, but I dealt with it. I didn’t know much about her past life, but I knew we were uncanny in resemblance.
That’s why, along with a deluxe set of throwing knives, I also got aces through Livia to get into the District 2 Archives, finding images and tokes of the Slayte family to give to her.
I mean, I doubted she would accept a cat, after all.
Sitting down, still in my pajamas, and my hair in a messy bun, with a piece of holly tied in, I held a cup of hot coco in my hand, while Catastrophe laid on her bed set up beside me, her kittens running around the house freely, with our other strays in the room made for them, a play room, if you must, one conjoined to mine.
I even had a little present set up in front of Catastrophe, full of treats, toys, and medallions for her and the other cats. I spoiled them too, and some of the stuff was homemade.
Before me, my friends sit, and I smile. We go around, open presents, chat and laugh. I add in my snarky comments, and all in all we have fun.
When we get up to put our stuff up, I grab my new presents, hand chosen by my friends, and head to my room, which is near the cat’s room, and on the same floor as Amadrya, Everest, and Burton(below our floor is the other’s rooms).
Amadrya and Everest chat close to a door, not heading off yet, so I take the moment to go myself, frowning at the fact that Burton seems to have beat me down the hall, as I hadn’t seen him yet.
Cue my surprise when I turn the corner, open my door, and see him there cuddling into a pillow fort.
I fix him with a curious glare, but he shakes his head, and we both laugh, I walk over, deciding to entertain him, and sit.
He hands me another present, one that I eye curiously, my hand hovering above it, his wrapping is terrible, but the fact is odd. I don’t open it, staring at it.
“We’ve already given presents out,” I comment, and he turns a bit red at the comment, before shaking his head.
“This one is more personal,” He comments, before rolling his eyes, “It’s not a bomb, go ahead, open it.”
I smirk softly, “Yeah, real comforting example Burton, ‘It’s not a bomb-‘“ I mock, but the serious look on his face stops me and I softly open the present.
Inside are an assortment of items, a collage really. From a picture of my family and mom, to a picture of just me and Catastrophe, to a piece of fabric from Livia’s dress, and a token from District 8.
The thing that catches my eye is an amulet, a graceless with 8 beads. Handwoven and made, and surprisingly not sloppy. Every bead is handchosen, and I get the meaning autocomattically. A grey bead with a little dagger painted on represents Macaria, one with a sword in the color red respects Alessandro(and I noticed the two are adjacent, the color seeming the blend slightly at the tips), the next 2 include a golden on with a white spear painted on, Halina, and then a orange bead with a detail of a little little lightning bolt, Ari. Amadrya’s is a russet-yellow color, a green trees painted on, and Everest is next to it, painted in dull, soft lavender, with orange flame painted on. I note Burton’s is blue, with a golden heart on it, to represent his empathy, and my own need is a green color, with a cat painted on.
I smile at this, picking it up and placing it on my wrist, before wrapping Burton in a tight hug.
And like that every day, we became closer and closer, hugging more often, even holding hands at points.
—
I never took the bracelet off, I started to leave the amulet I used to wear up, and sometimes I got new beads for the bracelet, a little cat charm, for one.
But it never came off.
We were taking the decorations down, when me and Burton were ushered over by Macaria and Alessandro, respectively. Apparently the two of them needed something.
So when I stood shoulder to shoulder with Burton, under a bustle of mistletoe and holly, I raised an eyebrow in questioning.
“Tradition says you kiss,” Macaria commented proudly, crossing her arms.
“Yeah, sure, okay.” I commented, perching myself up and kissing Burton’s cheek like it was no big deal.
Everything went quiet for a moment. Macaria’s eyes wide,
“I didn’t expect you to actually do it,” she commented.
I smirked, rolling my eyes.
“Why not?” Burton questionen, frowning.
“Because-because she’s been crushing on you forever and has never said anything!” Macaria started, “And no fair Holly, kiss him on the lips!”
I rolled my eyes, but complied with a series of soft laughs afterwards.
Suffice to say Christmas became my favorite holiday. And if I dressed in red and green during the time of year, no one was allowed to comment on it.
—
I sat beside Burton one of these days after we were truly together, and he glanced at me.
“When did you fall in love with me?” He questioned.
“Brave of you to assume I am,” I snarked back, per usual.
He rolled his eyes, and I didn’t need to give a real answer, we both knew the time it started didn’t matter.
Just the time we had together.
(i never write romance so oops.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 15:49:02 GMT -5
(Oh my god I’m squealing okay
That was everything I needed.
Burton and Holly romance? Check!
Halina and Ari cute crushing? Check!
Adorable heartfelt gifts? Check!
Christmas? Check!
Macaria and Holly friendship? Check!
Happy domestic setting? Check!
Okay but honestly I loved that so much it was so adorable and you were so good with the romance, I know you don’t write it a lot but it worked really well.
I can confirm that when Macaria got her secret Santa, she was incredibly touched by Holly’s thoughtfulness. She also totally waited until nobody else was watching before she cried because you can bet those photos had her in floods of tears but there is no way she’d cry in front of anyone else
When she got the present she definitely actually smiled. Dimples and all
I will definitely do more of this kind of thing like I may have the board games still be at the Christmas setting)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 2, 2019 15:54:50 GMT -5
(I love these kids.
Awe, I love Macaria so much :3.
I look forward to seeing it.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 2, 2019 15:56:58 GMT -5
I love them too they’re so sweet and I can’t! Xx
Okay but imagine the couples having pet names for one another and everything? My heart
Definitely! I’ll probably do it either tonight or tomorrow)
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I'm working on Macaria. The first part is going to be her when she's six, then the next part I may jump to an older age, maybe eleven. Maybe even I do a younger teenager, like fourteen or fifteen. Then the grown up Macaria you know. Kind of a chronicle of her life]