2p!Allies X Reader- Survive

A/N- *monotone voice* Please read the description if you’re confused. Also, if any questions are not answered in the description feel free to ask.

    The scene was gray, clouds gray and covering the skies that was once a stunning blue, grass died, dirt worn and bloodied, trees and whatnot ripped out of the ground or shriveling up pathetically. But most, men in their uniforms, bloodied and shot, laid peacefully in the fields, their loose clothing slightly swishing with the unforgiving winds that once carried and drowned out the men’s cries, hiding them away from the naive and innocent people they died protecting. There was a lone figure standing in the middle of the field, head tilted up to stare up at the unforgiving heavens above.

    “I… am the last one left,” a broken voice murmured, only to be washed away by the wind blowing around her, billowing her uniform. Salty tears cascaded down her dirty, bloody face, washing away what little it could.

    “The very last one… The only one who survived,” the voice spoke again. She pulled off her torn military cap and tossed it lightly, tilting her head forward to get a better look as the cap was carried away by the harsh winds.

    “Rest in peace… my friends,” she spoke softly, glancing at the bodies of her comrades. Indeed, she had made friends among her comrades while training and being in the military. She remembered how she had to dress as a male in order to get in the military, as well as meeting her two closest friends, Allen and Matthew.

~♢~

    Fixing her collar nervously, she watched the commanding officer study the line of her fellow people, hoping, or forced, to become a part of the military. On her left was a blonde Canadian with a curious curl defying gravity, while on her right was a red brown haired American with a cowlick. The blonde was quiet, his eyes hidden behind shades that would surely get him in trouble, and he was dressed in the same exact uniform. He was way taller than her, easily towering over the young woman, and the intimidating aura surrounding him did not help one bit.

    On the other hand, the American seemed no less intimidating, but in a more of a delinquent way. The way he stood would surely get him in trouble; he had his hands in his pockets as he shifted from foot to foot, a sneer on his face. His reddish brown hair was messy, yet in a ruggedly handsome way. He had odd crimson eyes, so vibrant and full of hate and murderous intent that the young woman was surprised he was even here! Perhaps he wanted to join the military?

    Her superior reached the delinquent, which he turned out to be her age, and barked, “YOUR NAME.”

    He went unfazed by this and stated casually, “Allen Jones, sir.”

    “SALUTE.” Allen saluted sloppily and sent him a lazy, lopsided smirk. The superior sighed and shook his head, “We’ll whip you to shape, boy.” He then marched over to the young woman dressed as a man. “YOUR NAME,” he barked.

    This slightly startled her, but she put an act up as she spoke evenly and in an equally boyish voice, “(Boy Name) (Last Name), sir.” He nodded once more and marched over to the blonde haired boy.

    “SALUTE.” She saluted quickly, standing still and her face blank, yet determined. He nodded in approval. “We’ll buffen you up, but you’re a good soldier at heart.” He marched over to the blonde to her left. “YOUR NAME.”

    The Canadian shifted on his feet as he lazily replied, “Matt Williams, sir.”

    “SALUTE.” The Canadian indignantly saluted, a little late, and grimaced as the commanding officer chastised him. He sent a glare to Allen that was worthy of sending a demon to his knees and bowing. The young woman nearly rolled her eyes at the two’s antics, yet had to keep from laughing herself. They certainly were interesting.

~♦~

    Walking for a few minutes, she came across a breathing body of a certain Canadian. He was near death, his skin sickly pale, blood splattering his clothing as the cursed scarlet liquid dribbled down his chin as he coughed feebly, and his curl drooping. Kneeling down, the young woman took off her friend’s shades.

    “Hey…” he coughed out.

    “Hi…”

    “Keep living for me… and for Al… And for everyone else…” Tears flowed freely once more, sliding their way down her cheeks and dripping off their chin where they landed either on or near the near death blonde Canadian.

    “...I will. I promise,” she promised as she looked at Al’s lifeless body beside the Canadian.

    “Kuma needs to be fed daily… Can you take care of him? He’s… hard to handle… But you’re a tough w-woman…”

    “Yeah, I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry about him,” she said, hugging Matthew.

    “Also…”

    “Please…”

    “...” Matthew’s heart beat got slower and softer, until it stopped beating altogether. The young woman who had faced the horrors of war let out a strangled sob, finally letting all her pain flow freely. She gripped onto her friend’s uniform, desperately wanting to be back in the memories they shared together.

~♢~

    “So, (Boy Name). Looks like we get a cabin with some other people, huh?” Allen said, playfully punching the young (hair colour) haired woman in the shoulder as her, Allen, and Matthew headed towards their assigned cabin. Turns out she shared a cabin, with Allen, Matthew, and four other people, all from different countries. Crossing her arms over her chest, which was bandaged to reduce the possibility of being found out, she smirked.

    “Hope you’re not gay,” she snorted, earning a chuckle from Matthew.

    “H-hey! I’m not gay!”

    “Yeah right,” Matt said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. The trio entered the cabin, Allen cursing and muttering something about the other two, Matt snickering, and the young woman smiling triumphantly. They got curious stares from everyone else in the cabin.

    The first person the young woman noticed was a strawberry blond haired fellow with the biggest eyebrows she had ever seen, bright against the plain uniform. He had baby blue eyes that sparkled with naivety, curiosity, and overflowing happiness. In fact, he seemed so happy that it couldn’t be contained. It seemed he was an Englishman.

    Sitting next to him was the most tired Frenchman she had ever seen. Bags were under his lazy violet eyes. He was smoking a cigarette, puffing every so often, which would cause a cough or two from those in the cabin. His blonde locks were messy and dirty, as well as wavy, but not bouncy one bit. To the young woman, he just radiated lust.

    Sitting on a bed was a Chinese man with his black hair tied into a loose side ponytail. his eyes were crimson red, rivaling those of the grumbling American’s beside the young woman. he looked grumpy, and gave off an aura that practically screams “keep away”.

    Last, but not least, a tall male stood in the corner, leaning against the wall and observing the scene silently, with calculating, crimson eyes. His dark reddish black locks swayed as he pushed himself off the wall. He was dressed in the usual uniform, except he had a bright red scarf on, allowing you to be able to see him a mile away.

    Yep, she thought grimly, I got stuck with a bunch of weirdos.

~♦~

    Trying to reduce her hiccups and tears, she pulled away, looking at her friend’s cold, dead body. She rose from her spot and wiped her tears away with a dirty glove. Glancing around she saw the same Chinese man clutching his chest, where he had been shot. beside him, the Russian male was looking at her, the light of his eyes fading quickly. She quickly ran over to the pair, and for once, they smiled at the sight of her.

    “Glad to see you’re okay,” Xiao said shortly, agitated by his hair not in a ponytail. he coughed up blood.

    “...Me as well,” Viktor’s answer was short and simple as always.

    “W-want me to tie your hair up?” she choked out, picking up Xiao’s fallen ribbon. He only nodded, his breathing becoming shallower. She kneeled down, gathered all his silky black hair, ignoring the tangles, and tied it back into a ponytail.

    “So… how are you feeling?”

    “Tired…”

    “Hey, the pain’s… gone, now,” Viktor said casually.

    “What’s your real name?” Xiao lifted a hand up, reaching for her. She grabbed it, not even bothering to try and see through the tears.

    “We know you’re female…”

    “You guys figured me out, huh… Alright… my name’s (First Name) (Last Name).”

    “Heh…”

    “I’m pretty tired… I’m just going to close my eyes,” Xiao said. Viktor grabbed (First Name)’s free hand.

    “Can you… check on my sisters?”

    “How are my family?”

    “I will, I will check on them all. I’ll,” her voice cracked. “I’ll… make sure they’re okay and receive…”

    “Thank you,” they both muttered before the hands went slack and growing cold with each passing second.

    “Rest in peace… Viktor Braginsky and Wang Xiao,” she said, releasing her friends’ hands. She stood up after a moment of silence, remembering what they wanted. Memories washed over her again.

~♢~

    The young woman groaned quietly in annoyance as her friends Oliver, the pink haired Englishman, and Al whispered back in forth. How was she supposed to sleep in these conditions? It was only a month or two in, and she couldn’t even get used to them or some others talking!

    “I’m craving cupcakes,” Oliver whispered sorrowfully.

    “Shut the fuck up, you cupcake bastard,” Matt growled from beside you. Each soldier had to share a bed with another, which is why there could be up to six or seven, depending on their size, people sharing a cabin. The young woman was not so lucky as she had to bunk with three others because the camp was so full and there was no other cabins and she was so small that she could bunk with two other guys.

    “Some people are trying to sleep,” a Chinese accent whisper-yelled from her left. Yep, she was stuck in the middle of Xiao, her Chinese friend, and Matt, her Canadian friend… Surprisingly enough, Xiao and Matt sometimes woke up with her hugging them. Al called (First Name) gay for that as payback.

    “You guys snore too much,” she commented, looking straight at Allen.

    “Heyyyy! I don’t snore that much,” he said in defense.

    “You do, Allen,” a gruff voice laced in a French accent said. Allen and Viktor shared a bed while Francois and Oliver had to. To be honest, she felt bad for Oliver, not so much for Allen.

    Speaking of Allen, he fell to the floor with a loud thud. Viktor kicked him out of the bed (quite literally) again. Oliver squealed quietly when he was hugged from behind by the sleeping Frenchman. It wasn’t a happy squeal, more like a scared squeal.

    “Oh, Francois is gay for Oliver~!” she sang, high-fiving Matt as Xiao proceeded to squish her face cheeks together. Matt was on his side facing (First Name), where she was facing him while Xiao was facing towards her. Matt gave him the “what-the-fuck-are-you-doing?” stare.

    “What the actual fuck, Xiao?” she whispered, reaching up and trying removing Xiao’s hands from her face.

    “You’re cute,” he answered simply. She could hear the smirk in his voice, making her frustration grow.

    “Is the only here that’s actually not gay Matt and me?” she asked.

    “...I’m not gay,” Viktor stated.

    “Obviously,” Allen said, crawling back into the bed. “And, I’m not gay!”

    “Be quiet! If our s-” Just then, the door to their cabin banged open, revealing a very angry superior.

    “Now. Do tell me what’s going on here, SOLDIERS,” he said, gritting his teeth out of pure anger and frustration.

    “Allen started it,” Oliver whined childishly.

    “Shut the-”

    “Get your freaking hands off me, Xiao,” she said, trying to remove his hands off her face.

    “Nope,” he responded, popping the ‘p’.

    “Stupid hosers,” Matt muttered, turning around so that he was on his stomach, face down. (First Name) kicked Matt in the leg, getting a groan from Matt.

    “Xiao, seriously. Any longer and we’ll be in big trouble,” she said, grabbing his wrists and desperately trying to get his hands off. That didn’t work.

    “Really, if you can’t even get a weak Chinese man’s hands off your face, you must be really weak, (First Name),” Allen scoffed, getting kicked off the bed again by Viktor. Oliver squealed again as he tried to struggle out of Francois’ strong grip.

    “I am not weak,” Xiao growled before she could even speak. He let go of her and removed her hands from his wrists. “You’re lucky I’ve got two people blocking my path, or so help me, I would have came over there and choke you.”

    “Stop kicking me off the bed, Viktor!” Allen said, trying to get back on the bed.

    “You’re too close,” the Russian replied back.

    “Matt, do something! You’re strong and scary, surely you can do something!” (First Name) said, worried about her life as the superior stood their, clenching his fists and his face the very form of utmost rage. The said Canadian lifted his head out of his pillow and sent her the greatest death glare.

    “I’m sleeping,” he growled vehemently. She recoiled quickly, shock written on her face. Matt smirked and let his face fall back to his highly uncomfortable pillow.

    “Let. Go. Of. Me!” Oliver shouted, flailing wildly.

    “All of you. 45 laps, now,” the superior ordered through gritted teeth. He turned around, giving all of them the evil eye and marched out. The young woman sighed, sat up in her bed, and slammed her pillow on Matt’s head.

    “Up. Now,” she growled, tempted to kick the blonde Canadian off Viktor style. Allen, who was already off his bed, glared at Viktor and walked over to the struggling Oliver and snoring Francois. He started to slap Francois awake, muttering something about him being a deep sleeper. Viktor got up and walked to his boots and pulled them on.

    “No.”

    “Now.”

    “NO.” That settled it; she lifted her foot and kicked him in the side, sending him over the side of the bed. She smirked in triumph, getting down and using Matt as a mat.

    “Fuck you!” he yelled.

    “Thank you, Matt,” she said sarcastically, walking off of him and towards the spot where all their boots were. Before Matt could even get up, Xiao stood on top of him and smirked down at him.

    “Your fault, buddy,” he sneered, going over to where the crossdressing woman was. Oliver, who had finally been released with the help of Allen, ran over to where his boots were and pulled them on, patiently waiting by the door with (First Name), Xiao, and Viktor.

    “I’m not your buddy,” Matt growled, sitting up and rubbing his abdomen and side. He stood up and caught the pair of boots (First Name) had tossed him.

    “Thanks, (Boy Name),” he said, pulling them on, balancing on one foot each at a time. Allen dragged Francois, who was mumbling something about sleep, and literally threw him to the floor.

    “Get up, oldie,” Allen sneered.

    It was going to be one hectic day.

~♦~

    Tears freely flowed, yet she paid no heed to it. She remembered when she told Allen and Matthew, her most trusted friends, about her not being actually male. They swore they would keep it a secret, as well as her full name.

~♢~

    Matt, (First Name), and Allen were walking around chatting about nothing and everything. Mainly about sports they shared in common. Back at her home, (First Name) used to play (favourite sport) with her little sister.

    “Hey, (Boy Name), are you listening?” She looked at Al.

    “Oh, sorry. I must’ve spaced out,” she said, her voice cracking as she remembered the accident which killed her father and sister.

    “You okay?” Matt asked, noticing the sadness in her voice.

    “Yes. I’m fine,” she said, willing the memory away.

    “We’re here for ya,” Matt said, patting her lightly on the back.

    “Yeah! Don’t be afraid to tell us anything, we’ll always be sworn to secrecy if it’s important!” Al cheered. She smiled, knowing that what he said was true. She had two great friends who had her back.

    “Hmm…” She thought for a moment, mentally debating whether she should tell them or not. It was best to get it off her chest. Deciding to tell them she said, “... Well, I do have some things to say.”

    “And?” Allen pushed the subject.

    “Promise not to tell anyone?”

    “Yeah,” they both said simultaneously. She smiled lightly before her face morphed into a grim look.

    “I’m not actually male; I’ve been crossdressing this whole time,” she said bluntly, looking at her surroundings in case anyone could overhear.

    “HA! I knew it! You looked too feminine to be male!” Allen whisper-yelled, fist pumping the air.

    “Not a surprise,” Matt said, looking ahead.

    She was surprised. “W-wait… If you guys knew… then how many others know?”

    “We guessed. But anyways, people that have been in the same cabin, same squad, and so on,” Matt answered. Well, she trusted her squadmates, which happened to be her cabin mates, so she wasn’t all that bothered by it. She was pretty sure they wouldn’t say a thing. She simply shrugged.

    “Pretty sure Xiao and Oliver have guessed already,” Allen said. “Maybe even Viktor. And Francois.”

    “I get it! So I’m too womanly to act like a man, eh?” she spat.

    “They won’t say a thing. Just like us,” Matt stated, rubbing his chin which was already growing a stubble.

    “I know, Matt. I trust them.”

    “Hey, wanna race back to the cabin?” Allen suggested.

    “You always beat me, Al!” she whined.

    “Before that, what’s your real name?” Matt asked.

    “(First Name). Same last name,” she answered, waving her hand lazily.

    “Let’s race!” Al yelled.

    “Fine.”

    “Whoever is last has to do whatever the winner wants!”

    “On three…. One,” she said, ready to run.

    “Two,” Matt said lazily, stretching before getting into stance.

    “THREE!” Al yelled, taking off running. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, managing to keep up with the Canadian.

    “YOU GUYS ARE SLOW!” Al yelled back, smirking and laughing.

    “KEEP LAUGHING LIKE THAT AND YOU’LL RUN OUTTA BREATH!” Matt yelled back, his purple eyes staring at Al’s back. She laughed, ignoring the curious stares her comrades and superiors gave them. Their laughter soon joined Al’s own hearty guffaws.

    Allen won, Matt was in second, and (First Name) was in last. Figures.

    “HA! I won!” Allen yelled, breathless as he burst into the door. Soon after, he was pushed aside by a panting Canadian. Soon enough, he was pushed inside by an exhausted crossdressing female.

    “Lost… I lost,” she muttered mournfully as she wobbled over to her bed and sat down, ignoring Xiao’s obvious dislike.

    “HA!”

    “Al, shut the fuck up,” Matt said, slapping Al on the head.

    “What do you want me to do? Strip and run around naked?” she muttered, joking. Al’s eyes glazed over, as red liquid dripped down from his nose.

    “Hothothothothothot,” he said aloud. Matt’s hand connected with his face. Everyone stopped doing what they were previous doing, staring straight at Allen as he was sucked into daydreams. The silence was so heavy, only to be broken by a French accent.

    “... It’s official. Allen is gay for (Boy Name).”

~♦~

    Looking for the familiar strawberry blonde head of hair, she spotted it some distance away. She walked over and saw Oliver sitting up, struggling to breath. Beside him, Francois muttered something about wanting to sleep. His head tilted up, his baby blue eyes meeting those of her (eye colour) eyes, his lips quirking upwards in a pained smile.

    “Ah, poppet! It’s good-!” He coughed, interrupting his sentence.

    “Yeah… I’m alive,” she muttered, walking over and kneeling down in front of the pair.

    “So it seems,” Francois muttered, his tired purple orbs looking up at her tear-filled own.

    “Hey… I have this bakery at home… Can you, perhaps… take care of it?” Oliver coughed, smiling, despite the blood dribbling down his chin.

    “Yes… Ollie. I’ll take care of it.”

    “Turns out Allen isn’t gay for you, huh?” Francois asked.

    “No…,” she whispered.

    “Say, why is a beautiful lady like yourself in the military?” Francois muttered, barely audible.

    “... I wanted to fight and protect,” she said. “Not some cliche thing where a woman has to fill in for a sickly or badly injured male in the family.” She cracked a smile, as she saw Francois laugh inaudibly.

    “Give me a goodnight kiss, will you? I’m tired,” Francois requested. She leaned down and pecked him on the forehead, then the lips.

    “Goodnight, Francois,” she and Oliver said. Francois smiled, his life fading away. He had died with a smile on his face, happy.

    “That’s… the first time he had smiled… in a long, long time,” Oliver said, smiling as well.

    “...Yes.”

    “Can you bring mine and Francois’ bodies over to Ally and Mattie?” he asked. She nodded, standing up and picking up the Englishman’s near lifeless body. “They mean a lot to me, despite the fact that they were always so mean to me.” Walking the short distance to Matt’s and Al’s bodies quickly, she set the dying man down beside them. “Thank you…” Nodding, she jogged over to Francois’ body, picked him up, and half-ran over to Oliver. She set him down gently, kneeling down to Oliver’s level.

    “You are so sweet, poppet. We all have a request that some did not speak. Live. Survive for us,” he said, his voice getting lower and lower by each syllable. She nodded, unable to speak, for her voice would crack. “Thank you.. Now, go… Leave us be…” With that, Oliver fell limp, his life no more.

    “O-Ollie… Francois… Mattie… Al… Xiao… Viktor… I love you all…” she cried out, looking at the ground beneath her. “I promise… I’ll live on… I’ll keep living on…”

~10 Years Later~

    A figure, oldened with age, stumbled up, her long (hair colour) in a bun, and her (eye colour) eyes flickering with pain and sadness. Behind her trotted an old polar bear, looking ready to die. She walked up to the first grave stone, with faded words carved into its rough surface.

‘Matthew Williams

KIA

WWII’

    “Hey Mattie,” she cooed, kneeling down and brushing her shaking hand over the words. “I brought old Kuma… He’s been doing really well over the years. But… I’m afraid he’s going to die. Hey, he’s gonna come to you. He’s gonna join you up there, yeah. Ain’t that right, old boy?” she said, looking at the old bear shuffle up to the gravestone and groaned, pushing his nose against the words, recognizing his master’s name. “Yeah… He misses ya, Matt. I’m sure you miss him too.

    “I’ve been surviving though. Missing all of ya, but surviving nonetheless. See you...” She stood up, bringing a gorgeous red rose out of her pocket and setting it down. She left the bear to live its final moments in front of his dead master’s grave. She moved on to the next gravestone, kneeled down and stared at the letters engraved on it.

‘Oliver Kirkland

KIA

WWII’

    “Hey, Ollie… Are you able to make cupcakes and all those sweet treats up there? I’ve taken care for your bakery, but I never did rename it. I figured to leave it as ‘Oliver’s Bakery’ as a memo to you. I know I’m not as a great cook as you, but I try to keep the name in all its glory. Although… I suppose… I wish I could’ve tasted the treats you made yourself. Anyways, how ya holdin’ up there? Must be hectic still, if you’re with everyone. Anyways, I have to go. I’ll see you again some day.” She stood up and did the same process as she did with Matt. Walking to another gravestone, she kneeled down and read the letters engraved and old with age.

‘Allen Jones

KIA

WWII’

    “Hey, Al. how are ya doin’ up there? You know… You always said you would go to Hell. Nah, I believe you’re up there, because you died a hero, whether you like it or not. Well, I’m fine, and surviving fine. You know… I never did… see your final moments… Oh well. I’m sure it was awesome as always.” She dug in her pocket and pulled out the rose. The rose’s petals were starting to wilt, so she would have to hurry and get this over with. “I’ll see you, Al.” She dropped it in front of the stone and left, walking to the next one in line.

‘Francois Bonnefoy

KIA

WWII’

    “Hey, Francois. How are ya doin’ up there? You must enjoy being lazy up there, yeah? You never were the one for action, so I wonder why you joined… Were you forced to, or was it because your other family members, Oliver, Matt, and Allen, joined? Then again, I suppose I’ll never know.” She brought out another rose. “‘Suppose I better hurry and finish this up. I’ll see you again.” She placed the flower down in front of the gray stone, and walked down to the next grave. She kneeled down, ignoring the pain that was now begging her to stop.

‘Wang Xiao

KIA

WWII’

    “Hey, Xiao… Did you find a bunch of adorable stuff? I never did get why you obsessed over cute stuff. Always squishing my cheeks together. I bet you figured out I was a woman first outta all of ‘em… Then again it could be Francois. Hey, I’ll never know, so I’ll stop worrying about that stuff.” She pulled out another rose, twirling it in her fingers. “You’re always so quiet and almost arrogant seeming, though you always did bail me out of stuff, oftentimes drugging the superior to make him sleep. Ha! Those were good times. Speaking of which, where did you get all those poisons? You could’ve been kicked out if you weren’t careful. Eh, whatever. Oh, Kuro wasn’t too happy to receive the news that you were dead, despite him being in the opposing force. I’m sure you weren’t too happy when he went to join the … Axis countries, was it? The others had mixed emotions, but most of them were pretty sad. I’m sure Kuro’s just hiding his feelings. He must be terribly upset.

    “I’ve kept in contact with them, so they’ve been fine. Kuro’s alive, thankfully, and honestly, we’ve grown close. He wishes you well up there. He’s even, in fact, living in my house, since he has nowhere else to go. The war really did affect him though. He has a bunch of scars on him, and he never did recover from the near-death experience. I believe he almost had a heart attack when I told him about your death. That’s why I took him, looking after him, even though he keeps pushing me away. Still does in fact. Oh well. he’s warmed up to me anyways…. Heh… I sound like a mother… See ya later, Xiao.” She set down the rose and stood, walking to the last of her friends’ graves.

‘Viktor Braginsky

KIA

WWII’

    “Hey, Vik. How are you doing up there? Your sisters cried and cried over you when they had received the news as soon as I could give it to them. Your little sister, Natasha, immediately started clinging to me and sob her poor heart out. She must be a very nice little sister. So sweet and kind. Aw, man. You’ve got me jealous about the fact that such a sweet and timid girl was your little sister! I should adopt her as my own little sister,” she joked, cracking a small, sorrow filled smile. The smile never did reach her eyes, not able to light them up. She pulled out her last rose and set it down on the ground.

    “Katya… well, at first she pushed it off, but then later on, she came to my house crying. Turns out we lived really close. Anyways, we’ve kept in contact, always supporting each other. To be honest, none of them could replace you.

    “Always, so quiet and calculating. In fact, if it weren’t for you, I would’ve died many, many battles ago. Saving my butt always. I thank you for that. So… I’m just going to go now…” She stood up, letting the rose plop onto the ground with a small sound, only audible to her. She looked at the now dead polar bear, leaning against the Matt’s headstone.

    “I’ll see you all again…. I promise. Though for now… I’ll live the rest of my life, like you wanted me to… Goodbye for now, guys…”