Entry 01: Don't Be Fooled I Was Raised by the Wolves
Title: Don’t Be Fooled I Was Raised by the Wolves
Entry Number: 01
Author: Lynzie914
Fandom: Pretty Little Liars (Spencer-Centric)
Rating: PG
Genre: Character piece
Spoiler Warnings: Up to 3x20 “Hot Water”, with a bit of an AU take.
Word Count: 1006
People always forget she was trained for this, raised for this. Always be ready to attack, and short of that, have a counter attack on hand just in case. Her parents were lawyers and they raised her to win. Life wasn’t a competition, it was a war. And there was no such thing as draws or ties or even truces, just losing and winning sides.
And Hastings didn’t lose. It wasn’t in their nature.
Somewhere that winning mentality was drowned out bit by bit, by promises of friendship and devotion, and Toby’s warm hand on hers as he offered her things no one else ever had before. And suddenly ‘winning is everything’ faded into ‘winning isn’t everything’.
Spencer had let herself become weak.
But after the denial and the grief and all the other steps were over, Spencer was left with what she had been taught. Left with just herself, and her copy of The Art of War.
--
Wren was an easy target. He craved love and attention and affection too much and in all the wrong places (women). He was engaged to Melissa once after all.
He craved it all like a Hasting craved recognition and superiority. And lucky for her, he had craved Spencer since the moment he laid eyes on her as well.
She could use that to her advantage and she would.
--
It’s easier when you know who you’re at war against. It tells you what buttons to push and what lines to cross to get a reaction.
The Toby she knew had just been a lie, a creation made to draw her in and learn her secrets, to get close to her and those she loved. But in the process, he had let his own secrets slip, had let her in just enough for her to be able to hurt him back.
She had a list of things that could wound him now.
Wren is just one of them.
--
It was easy to get Wren to ask her to dinner again. It was in the way she flipped her hair over her shoulder as they talked and how she looked down and fidgeted when she admitted she had used him, and looked him right in the eye when he said he thought he might have taken advantage of her too.
There was a connection there, one he wanted to latch onto, had always wanted to, and she didn’t see the problem. Not anymore.
(There was no one left she cared about to stand in the way.)
She smiled when she answered yes; it was the smile of a wolf.
--
They stayed in Rosewood this time; she wanted to ‘make sure he knew this was for real’. She had promised him that it was. (It wasn’t really a lie.)
They went to dinner and then got ice cream and walked around and talked, and it almost felt normal, like they could be anyone, if it wasn’t for the eyes she could feel on them wherever they went. If wasn’t for the way shadows caught her eyes and the black hoodies were behind every corner, even if she couldn’t see them.
She smiles sometimes when he doesn’t say anything funny or amusing, because it really doesn’t have anything to do with him. She feels a little guilty for that. But she figures he once cheated on his fiancée, and maybe this was just karma catching up with him. (God knows, it had already caught up with her.) And even if it wasn’t, she didn’t feel guilty enough to consider stopping.
Spencer kisses him outside in the middle of town where anywhere could see, short and sweet, for reasons that were anything but. She kisses him again in his car parked in front of her house, this time longer, harder, needier, and she hopes that someone is watching.
She smiles as they part, but it has very little to do with Wren at all.
--
Melissa comments on her choice of company, of the mistakes she is making.
Melissa knows nothing of the life she is living, of the lies and truths so wrapped together that it’s impossible to tell one from the other. And if she did know, she didn’t care. Not anymore. Maybe she never did.
Hastings were taught to win, that life was war, and Spencer and Melissa had been battling it out for years now. Each side winning, only to lose again and make them fight harder (nastier) the next time; the cycle always continuing.
(Wren was shaping up to just be another battle fought.)
--
They lock her in the steam room, Toby, Mona, someone else left to be discovered, they leave her to die, to suffocate in her own home. (It almost works.)
She knows it’s them because they leave a note like always. Signed with an A left to mock her even more. (Anonymity somehow seems easier, better, when you learn who the true monsters are and how close they have gotten.)
This is war and the battle sides have been chosen and she and Toby are no longer on the same one. They never really were, she just hadn’t known.
--
Getting into Toby’s father’s house is surprisingly easy, even with no one home. Toby’s father and step-mother seem just as desperate as Jenna to be out of town.
(Spencer doesn’t really blame them.)
Getting the snow globes out is a bit more of a struggle, but Spencer manages, she always does. She spreads out the pieces in Toby’s apartment; the water seeping through the carpet and the glass grinding underneath her boots.
Precious memories of someone Toby had once loved broken and turned into something painful. She thinks it only seemed fair.
(Somewhere, Alison is smiling, Spencer can feel it, but would never admit to it outloud.)
She leaves a note in the middle of the glass, but doesn’t sign her name. He had never been brave enough to sign his own.
You want to play a game, let’s see who wins.
Hastings’ don’t lose. They aren’t built to.
Entry Number: 01
Author: Lynzie914
Fandom: Pretty Little Liars (Spencer-Centric)
Rating: PG
Genre: Character piece
Spoiler Warnings: Up to 3x20 “Hot Water”, with a bit of an AU take.
Word Count: 1006
People always forget she was trained for this, raised for this. Always be ready to attack, and short of that, have a counter attack on hand just in case. Her parents were lawyers and they raised her to win. Life wasn’t a competition, it was a war. And there was no such thing as draws or ties or even truces, just losing and winning sides.
And Hastings didn’t lose. It wasn’t in their nature.
Somewhere that winning mentality was drowned out bit by bit, by promises of friendship and devotion, and Toby’s warm hand on hers as he offered her things no one else ever had before. And suddenly ‘winning is everything’ faded into ‘winning isn’t everything’.
Spencer had let herself become weak.
But after the denial and the grief and all the other steps were over, Spencer was left with what she had been taught. Left with just herself, and her copy of The Art of War.
--
Wren was an easy target. He craved love and attention and affection too much and in all the wrong places (women). He was engaged to Melissa once after all.
He craved it all like a Hasting craved recognition and superiority. And lucky for her, he had craved Spencer since the moment he laid eyes on her as well.
She could use that to her advantage and she would.
--
It’s easier when you know who you’re at war against. It tells you what buttons to push and what lines to cross to get a reaction.
The Toby she knew had just been a lie, a creation made to draw her in and learn her secrets, to get close to her and those she loved. But in the process, he had let his own secrets slip, had let her in just enough for her to be able to hurt him back.
She had a list of things that could wound him now.
Wren is just one of them.
--
It was easy to get Wren to ask her to dinner again. It was in the way she flipped her hair over her shoulder as they talked and how she looked down and fidgeted when she admitted she had used him, and looked him right in the eye when he said he thought he might have taken advantage of her too.
There was a connection there, one he wanted to latch onto, had always wanted to, and she didn’t see the problem. Not anymore.
(There was no one left she cared about to stand in the way.)
She smiled when she answered yes; it was the smile of a wolf.
--
They stayed in Rosewood this time; she wanted to ‘make sure he knew this was for real’. She had promised him that it was. (It wasn’t really a lie.)
They went to dinner and then got ice cream and walked around and talked, and it almost felt normal, like they could be anyone, if it wasn’t for the eyes she could feel on them wherever they went. If wasn’t for the way shadows caught her eyes and the black hoodies were behind every corner, even if she couldn’t see them.
She smiles sometimes when he doesn’t say anything funny or amusing, because it really doesn’t have anything to do with him. She feels a little guilty for that. But she figures he once cheated on his fiancée, and maybe this was just karma catching up with him. (God knows, it had already caught up with her.) And even if it wasn’t, she didn’t feel guilty enough to consider stopping.
Spencer kisses him outside in the middle of town where anywhere could see, short and sweet, for reasons that were anything but. She kisses him again in his car parked in front of her house, this time longer, harder, needier, and she hopes that someone is watching.
She smiles as they part, but it has very little to do with Wren at all.
--
Melissa comments on her choice of company, of the mistakes she is making.
Melissa knows nothing of the life she is living, of the lies and truths so wrapped together that it’s impossible to tell one from the other. And if she did know, she didn’t care. Not anymore. Maybe she never did.
Hastings were taught to win, that life was war, and Spencer and Melissa had been battling it out for years now. Each side winning, only to lose again and make them fight harder (nastier) the next time; the cycle always continuing.
(Wren was shaping up to just be another battle fought.)
--
They lock her in the steam room, Toby, Mona, someone else left to be discovered, they leave her to die, to suffocate in her own home. (It almost works.)
She knows it’s them because they leave a note like always. Signed with an A left to mock her even more. (Anonymity somehow seems easier, better, when you learn who the true monsters are and how close they have gotten.)
This is war and the battle sides have been chosen and she and Toby are no longer on the same one. They never really were, she just hadn’t known.
--
Getting into Toby’s father’s house is surprisingly easy, even with no one home. Toby’s father and step-mother seem just as desperate as Jenna to be out of town.
(Spencer doesn’t really blame them.)
Getting the snow globes out is a bit more of a struggle, but Spencer manages, she always does. She spreads out the pieces in Toby’s apartment; the water seeping through the carpet and the glass grinding underneath her boots.
Precious memories of someone Toby had once loved broken and turned into something painful. She thinks it only seemed fair.
(Somewhere, Alison is smiling, Spencer can feel it, but would never admit to it outloud.)
She leaves a note in the middle of the glass, but doesn’t sign her name. He had never been brave enough to sign his own.
You want to play a game, let’s see who wins.
Hastings’ don’t lose. They aren’t built to.