#he knows he's fallen now and that really puts him at a disadvantage too

[cherubchoirs]

I had a funny thought, what if during the inevitable Gabriel vs Micheal fight, Micheal is winning, Gabe's on the ropes, helmet smashed open but during Mike's hate monologue the coin V1 flicked into the Gabe void flings out, terminal velocity, nailing Micheal and giving Gabe time to turn the tables and get his first real coin combo.

even better if this is like, decades later after v1 flicked it in there, where has it been? who knows! Anyway, how would the sibling scuffle work out anyway because the only way I can see Micheal actually listening to what Gabe has to say is after a beatdown so great that he cant run away from the truth.

UUGUHTHHUHGH THE COIN KNEW WHEN IT WAS NEEDED. and i love this bc i also definitely see gabriel adapting some of v1's strategies in his technique, the mannerisms just evolving naturally like others might copy speech or habits from their partner. he will utilize the hell out of that thing and be doubly grateful that he. now knows where it is lol but otherwise you're absolutely right in the sense that this is the only way michael could be reasoned with - he would need to be left so exhausted the meager threads of his light won't allow him to teleport in retreat. gabriel knows it's not the easiest solution since michael is just about as accustomed to loss as he once was, but he can't imagine any other way to get him to actually listen. unfortunately, he needs to be brought low before gabriel can make an earnest appeal - and he figures he has one chance to do it.

in all honesty, gabriel isn't hopeful about michael's reception to anything he has to say - michael became deeply ingrained in his ways a long time ago and his life has only served to solidify an unwavering adherence to god's will. gabriel knows, better than any of them, that he is fighting against the trauma seeded by lucifer's fall and now grown into the fruit of what michael's desperation has wrought in his decaying body. that's not. conducive to gabriel's position, because it has fostered a mental schema fortified against all collapse as that would destroy michael from the inside out. it MUST maintain, or everything he's done since the war in heaven to now tearing apart his own soul is rendered pointless in his eyes. but that's way gabriel deliberates on exactly how to approach it, and he digs deep into the messenger he once was. this was his job, to not just speak of joy but of so much evil too, and now it's imperative he frames the latter in a way michael can hear and let in. it's all been leading to this, he thinks.

so gabriel approaches him as the servant of god that he is, so staunch in his devotion that even other angels in heaven cannot understand him. he gave everything, his body and his soul, into service to the lord, and he loved so deeply that it devoured him whole. gabriel calls on him to stop his hatred then, to finally bleed the infected wound that's never gotten the chance to breathe because he so feared it would corrupt his mind. he has done enough, he has done so much more than anyone would ever even try - it's not his fault that god is gone, and it is not his fault he won't come back. michael did what no one else was willing to do, so the work is done. god poured so much of his wrath onto michael that in his return he forgot he could do so much more, and gabriel firmly reminds him of heaven's current status. he is not just some jailer, his entire existence isn't meant to be so wrapped up in the punishment of sinners and the demons of hell. michael sees souls upon their death and offers them a chance at repentance, michael is the prince of the angels and he leads their brothers in his fairness and wisdom. there is a heaven where he's needed, two remaining archangels that still look to him for guidance, and there can be peace if he chooses it. peace within himself. he is needed and he is loved, but gabriel demands that he must rid himself of all the hatred he harbors for his own sin and how it manifests into his treatment now of those in hell. because michael would HATE to hear it, but gabriel knows this is the most important point he has - his crusade now is not fought for god, but to preserve his legacy, to prove to himself and all others that he is still michael. it's a risk to shove it in his face so plainly, but gabriel knows he responds much better to tough love than walking on eggshells. and if one thing could FINALLY break him out of his rampage against hell, it would be gabriel, inhabiting the role of god's messenger, telling him in no uncertain terms that his motivation now are purely selfish. he has put god's name on a personal vitriol, and that would at least make him think.

[zaczenemiji]

I really wanted to ask if you could do like a GN! It can be fem too it doesn’t really matter—

The Reader where like Ultraman can transform bigger too but they're more inspired by Mothra (like a mothra suit). I think it would've been like so cute to see Emi go all awe and clingy to the reader because how bright and heavenly they look💕

Kenji gets all jealous seeing his kajju daughter prefer the reader over him a lil bit. tall parents raising baby monster

Emi’s Favorite

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 1,546

Genre/Warning: Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Jealousy (very slight)

Author’s Note: Loved this idea so much, thank you for this first request! Emi with a moth mommy ⋆˚ʚɞ

MASTERLIST

Something about your boyfriend changed the night after Gigantron’s “attack” on Tokyo Dome. That night, you were supposed to help him fend the kaiju off but he insisted he’d do it on his own.

For some reason, you were glad you did not join in because (1) their fight became a pursuit in the sky, and (2) you could not zoom in the air the same way Ultraman does. The only reason you’re able to fly is because of your wings—moth wings on your suit, which would put you at a disadvantage in the case of an air chase.

You were supposed to come over to his place that night to check on him because you were sure that the skirmish had caused more damage to his already injured shoulder. However, your calls were left answered by Mina, telling you that Kenji had already fallen asleep.

Deciding not to disturb him, you simply let him be. But in the days that followed, something surely wasn’t right. He couldn’t focus on his games, he looked so fatigued and restless all the time, and oh good gracious, there were now dark circles under his eyes.

He just looks so stressed and you were so upset with the fact that he didn’t want to tell you what’s going on with him. The time he got into a fight with the other players was the end of the line for you.

You barged into his house, finding him by his bathtub, in front of a TV, watching the news about him. The usually peaceful atmosphere in his house was now charged with tension as you made your way towards him. At that moment, Kenji was praying so hard the kaiju in his basement would keep still.

He still wouldn’t tell you what’s wrong. “It’s not about us. It’s about…” he said, “…something bigger. Something I’m not ready to share yet.”

Your eyes softened at his response, though the ache in your chest remained. You made him promise to talk to you when he’s ready and he agreed. You can’t stand seeing the love of your life like that but at the same time, you didn’t want to force him to do anything against his will. Taking up Ultraman was already enough of that.

Almost two months, after the incident, he seemed back to his old shape. Better, even. And thank heavens, finally, he could now tell you about what happened.

“There’s a what below?!” You asked in disbelief. The two of you were standing in front of the elevator and for a moment, you think your ears are playing tricks on you.

“A baby kaiju,” he replied and went on to explain everything. Still in disbelief, you took in everything with a nod. He placed his hand on the small of your back as he guided you into the elevator.

The moment you saw the big pink baby, you gasped. Emi made happy noises as you approached. However, upon noticing you, she suddenly began to cry.

Kenji was tapping on the glass containment in an attempt to shush her. But to no avail, Emi just cried harder.

“I’m sorry, she doesn’t know you yet,” Kenji apologized. “But I assure you, she’s a sweet big baby.”

Remembering how, at first, Emi only recognized Kenji when he was Ultraman, you decided to try something.

“(Y/n), what are you—“ Before Kenji finished, a soft glow enveloped you, and moments later, you emerged in your giant form. Your wings spread wide, shimmering with black patterns and warm tones of yellow and orange.

Emi’s cries slowed, her curiosity piqued by the sudden change. She opened her eyes, sobs turning to soft hiccups as she stared up at you in wonder. Her claws tapped the glass as she reached out, trying to grasp your wings.

Kenji watched in awe as Emi’s distress melted away. “I think it’s working,” he whispered.

“May I?” You asked, gesturing to the lid of the containment unit. Kenji gave a nod of approval. Carefully, you turned it before lifting it off.

You lowered yourself closer to Emi, your wings fluttering softly as she climbed up her containment. The gentle breeze they created seemed to soothe her further.

Emi let out a delighted squeal, her earlier tears forgotten. She toddled closer to you, her claws gently touching the edge of your wing. She let out a happy chirp, eyes sparkling with joy.

Kenji stepped closer, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “Wow, she loves you in this form,” he said.

You smiled down at him. “She’s just like her dad,” you replied. “She knows a good thing when she sees it.”

Kenji chuckled before he himself transformed into Ultraman. He sat beside you with Emi in between the two of you.

Your wings gently enveloped Emi in a comforting embrace. She was now calm and happy as she traced the pattern of your wings with her claw.

“Gentle, baby,” Kenji said as he rubbed her head.

She continued walking around you and playing with your wings until she tired herself out. She walked in front of you and climbed on your lap, nestling her head on your stomach.

“Awww, baby,” you cooed. You gently picked her up into your arms and gently swayed.

Kenji moved close to you, wrapping an arm around you. You nestled into his arm, head resting on the junction of his neck and shoulders. The three of you slept like that for the night.

The next morning when Emi awoke, she immediately looked for you. Realizing that the moth lady was missing, she cried. Mina was quick to assist her, playing videos of cartoons and Kenji to calm her. To Mina’s surprise, none of them worked.

“Who’s making my baby cry?” Kenji asked as he approached. He expected her crying to cease once she saw him. However, that is not the case.

“Huh?” He questioned. Emi always calms when she sees him. “Mina, try showing her pictures of (y/n).”

Mina did as told and as miraculously as yesterday, Emi stopped crying. “It seems like she got herself a new mother,” Mina commented.

With Emi’s growing fondness of you, you found yourself frequenting at Kenji’s house more than ever. She was just so cute; like a live plushie when you’re in your giant form.

“Hi babyyyy,” you cooed as you transformed into your giant form. You scooped her up, her head nuzzling against you. Her earlier play was abandoned in favor of your presence.

You walked in on Kenji and Emi playing baseball together. And you didn’t mean to interrupt but when you saw her walking towards you, you knew you had to transform.

Kenji smiled at the scene. “She really loves you, you know,” he said.

You smiled back, feeling a warm glow inside. “I love her too,” you replied. “She’s such a sweetheart.”

Emi chirped happily as she climbed up your torso and onto your shoulder where she could watch and touch your wings.

Kenji watched the interaction, his smile fading slightly as a twinge of jealousy crept in. His baby kaiju shows a different kind of joy when you’re around.

He loved Emi dearly, but lately, it seemed like she preferred your company over his. He couldn’t help but feel a bit sidelined.

“She really lights up when you’re here,” Kenji said, trying to keep his tone light.

You glanced at him, noticing the slight edge in his voice. “She lights up when you’re here too, Kenji,” you replied. “She loves you.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, but… it feels like she’s more excited to see you than me sometimes.”

You tapped the space on the floor beside you, gesturing for him to switch to Ultraman. Thankfully, he did not resist.

You moved close to him as he sat beside you, his hand finding its way to your thigh. Your head automatically rested on his shoulder.

“You’re her dad, Kenji,” you said. “She loves you so much. Maybe she’s just fascinated by my wings right now.”

You felt Kenji nod, although the jealousy still lingered within him. “Yeah, maybe,” he replied. “I just want to be enough for her.”

You leaned back to look at him. Your other hand which was not holding Emi on your shoulder, moved up to hold his face. “You are enough. You’re everything to her,” you said. “And to me.”

Emi squirmed out of your hand, gently jumping off your shoulder and landing on your lap. She toddled over to Kenji. He looked down at her, his heart melting as she reached up, wanting to be held. He picked her up, and she nuzzled against his chest, purring softly.

“See?” You asked with a smile. “She adores you.”

Kenji hugged Emi close, his jealousy fading into thin air. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess you’re right.”

You spent the rest of the day playing with Emi, taking turns holding her and making her laugh. By the time evening rolled around, she was content and sleepy in Kenji’s arms.

Before reverting to your original form, you kissed Emi’s head and then leaned in to kiss Kenji. “I’ll be back soon,” you said. “Take care of our little one.”

Kenji smiled, his earlier worries forgotten. “We’ll be here, waiting.”

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@scribble0rat

[2-dsimp]

Hey, can you do Yandere! Villain! Diluc x Citizen! Y/N

Please? Because I think is a interesting idea (in my point of view)

Here some context idea how Yandere!Villain! Diluc meet Y/N: *Y/N saw Diluc harm after he fought against the hero, Y/N knew that Diluc was a villain but they felt bad for Diluc, so Y/N treat his wounds and Diluc felt the need to have Y/N on his side no matter what*

I hope this helps you! (^^)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: That helped me a lot I love it when there’s details in request. It helps to really flush things out! o(≧v≦)o

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My villainous Admirer

|Yandere villain! Diluc x Citizen! reader|

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Dark knight was terribly wounded in battling an Hero who specializes in ice elemental magic. Managing to become victorious but at the cost of his physical condition worsening as time past due to the strain of using his powers. Taking what he needed from the hero’s suit, Diluc managed to find solace within the sleaziest parts of town where it’s a no law zone in its own right. The people in the abandoned district within Teyvat the land of freedom. follow a single rule; Pay no mind to the business of others that don’t concern you and you’ll be left alone.

Which means that someone could be bleeding out to death in the middle of the street and no one would bat an eye nor utter a single word at the display. The Dark Knight was currently slumped down against the grimy concrete walls of the shady alleyway. His breathing was hoarse and unsteady as he tried to recuperate himself, pressing down against the ice knife that was planted within his side. Desperately trying not to pass out from the backlash of using his powers and from potential blood loss if he happened to loosen up on the knife that was implanted deep in his abdominal side.

But he was struggling with keeping his eyelids open as black splotches ensnared his vision. He knew that if he were to fall unconscious then he’d undoubtedly be at a disadvantage since there are a hefty sum of individuals who held grudges against him from the past and are waiting like vultures to pick at him when at his weakest.

But just when he was about to begrudgingly accept any cruel fate that was waiting for him once he had fallen prey to his subconscious. He witnessed a blurry figure of a person offering his hand down to him. Diluc had half the mind to tell them to fuck off but from what he could see, he instantly knew that you were fresh meat. An unfortunate soul who happened to unknowingly move into this unlawful town due to the drastic low prices he assumed.

Plus the way you looked at him with such warmth in your eyes mixed with concern and slight fear? He couldn’t tell if you were in fear of him or afraid of what state he’s been reduced to. Either way Diluc couldn’t properly fathom why someone would go out of their way to help a villain. Perhaps you didn’t know him? Letting his thoughts swarm his hand on reflex reached for yours, trusting in his instincts he let you guide him to the safe haven of your apartment too tired to act rationally.

You were oh so attentive towards him, your touch felt like a mellow spring breeze which wafted over him so pleasantly that it put him under a trance. And before he knew it he was tucked comfortably in your bed, wounds dressed properly, and now he was currently being hand fed some rice porridge by yours truly.

Was he dead?

Did he happen to die and become swept off his feet by an absolute angel?

Diluc couldn’t comprehend it fully. Constantly questioning why you were so relentless in nursing him, a stranger, and even worse a well known villain to society like himself, back to health. He crossed out the possibility of you not knowing him when he peeped up at the tv which showed him on the news getting into an altercation with the Hero.

You knew who he was.

“Why did you bother saving me?”

He uttered in a raspy voice, his once dull dead eyes which now resembled the colorful embers of a blazing fire. Were staring dead into yours with a heavy sense of conflicting emotions. And the response he got from you left him speechless, he watched you in silence once you left the room to get him a glass of water. After you were out of earshot he began letting out a small hoarse chuckles of disbelief that heaved from his abdomen painfully but he couldn’t care less.

“You saved me because you couldn’t help yourself? What are you some kind of saint? What if it was all an act and I was just pretending to be weak?”

When you show kindness to a man shrouded in whispy flames of darkness, who has lost what was precious to him time and time again. You can’t expect for everything to be just as it was before. Now that you’ve saved him, and showed him how naive and gullible you are. I’m afraid he’ll take it upon himself to become the protector you’ve never asked for but needed. Now that he’s gotten a taste of the generous hand that graciously bestowed upon him an refreshing sense of fulfillment and newfound purpose.

He just had to have you no matter what.

“You really are careless my angel…But don’t worry because now you have me.”

[verosikastrikerstellaexcuser]

It would be so nice to know more about Stella and her daily life! She seems to care about royal duties a lot more than Stolass who uses their heirloom for prostitution. He behaves more like a rebellious teenager than even Via does. Throwing banquets and maintaining good relations with the rest of the aristocracy may seem boring or petty but is actually a hugely important part of being a member of monarchy.

The fact she is friends with some of her peers and stolas only socialises with imps who he can boss around or succubi he can take advantage of and command, says quite a lot about these two people. I know it’s meant to show how “not like other royals” stolas is. But he really isn’t. He just comes across as a chaser. If Stella was the ‘Prince’ and stolas left, she’d be in her element.

I agree! And wow yeah now that I think about it the fact Stella is able to make friends with other royals but St*las never has is, yeah that says a lot. I agree that its probably supposed to portray him as being soooooo #notlikeotherichpeople but the alternative in St*las' life has been seeking out relationships with those with less power than him by leveraging that power to force them.... sooooo yeah pretty ugly. There are nicer rich people like Ozzie in hell too. He really couldn't find any other Goetia or other elite that he could stand, at all?

I think in Stella's case shes not afraid to have relationships with those equal to and above her, which is of course largely classism on her part, but also says a cool thing about her in that shes bold. She will put herself out there. And honestly, I fail to hate her like I'm supposed to when actively seeking someone out because they're disadvantaged like St*las did is at least equally bad, imo...

I feel like seeing Via's daily life more as well as Stella's would be nice as well honestly. Both Stella and Via are so so interesting. I want to see their opinions on Stolas' work, what they want for their lives - maybe in Stella's case what she would have done with her life if not arranged married. While in Via's, how she even feels about her inheritance and the extent to which she does and doesn't know about it. I want to see Helluva Boss more through their eyes and not just St*las', they should get to be more than "St*las' wife" and "St*las' daughter".

I feel like this is a problem with the show generally in that we know the female characters like or dislike another character greatly, usually a male one. But aside from that, we see not a lot. Like what do they want out of life? Loona wants to have other hellhound friends/a social life and has a mixed relationship with Blitz, yet the focus on that has fallen to the wayside lately -_-. Millie seems to exist to be supportive and to kick ass and love Moxxie, but outside that, we so rarely hear her opinions on anything or goals she wants for herself... I really just want to actually peer into and see the female characters lives like we have gotten to with Blitz and Moxxie, so so much. Even little things like those two loving horses and musical theater, can we please have that but for our ladies?

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Battle Of The Knights Alt Ending 3: And The Winner Is Marc

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: technically none still but Jake is a bit volatile here

Genre: fluff, what else would it be

Summary: "So let me get this straight, you all like me, so you each want to take me on a date and let me decide what to do after?" You can't believe the words you're hearing even as you repeat them back.

What happens when the relationships you've built with Marc and his two alters are turned on their heads by a proposition that is anything but simple? How can they expect you to risk blowing up the carefully crafted dynamic you've worked so hard to create? And why do you agree to such an insane suggestion?

***

You didn't really need to ask for three weeks to consider things. You knew the moment Marc left your apartment who you were going to choose. Hell, you might've known before this whole thing started honestly. It's why you had them go in the order you did. You've always cared for Marc in a way you didn't want to admit even to yourself, but everyone deserved a fair shot. You didn't want your less than simple feelings for Marc to win out by default. You love Jake and Steven and genuinely believed one of them could sweep you off your feet unexpectedly, but not if Marc went first. Even with your efforts, even though you enjoyed your dates with all of them, Marc wormed his way into your heart long before Steven and Jake could, there was no question about that. Still, you waited over a week to message them. Even if your decision was made before you'd even fallen asleep that day, you didn't want them to think you were rushing the choice. You weren't, you'd been thinking about it since this all started, pros and cons lists for each date are scattered about your desk to prove just that.

Hey guys, I've made a decision.

You send the text before you can talk yourself out of it.

Great! I'm at work right now, but if you'd like to swing by this evening we can discuss it! I get off at 5 :) -Steven

Going to their place means you're not in neutral territory which on one hand puts you at a slight disadvantage despite being pretty familiar with their place but on the other hand, they'll be more comfortable which is good since they're at your mercy in this conversation.

Sounds good! I can come over around 6?

You shouldn't prolong this. You've already sat on your choice for like 8 days.

That works! See you then! -Steven

You glance at the clock on your wall, it's only after 3 now. You've got a couple of hours before you have to head over there during which you actually manage to get some things done before you head over there just before 6. When you knock on their apartment door it's about ten past and the door swings open after a couple of moments.

"Y/n! Hi! You're here!" Steven breathes out.

"Hi Steven, good to see you." You smile.

"Good to see you too! Glad you came by." Steven gestures for you to enter the apartment.

"Of course, how was work by the way?" You ask following him in.

"Oh it was fine. My boss is awful but, that's certainly not new." He shrugs.

"You know Steven I really think someone should say something to that woman she's horrendous to you and I don't like-"

"No! No. I know she's like the worst but I just want to keep my head down and do my job. No antagonizing her, low profile, you know the deal." Steven cuts off the vaguely threatening thing he knows you're about to say.

"Fine. If you insist. Still- she should get a taste of her own medicine." You roll your eyes.

"Maybe one day." He chuckles.

"If there's any justice in this world." You smirk taking a seat on the couch.

"If so. Can I get you anything by the way? Something to drink or perhaps a snack? I can make something quickly if you're hungry." Steven walks over to his kitchen as he makes the offer.

"I'm alright Steven thank you, darling- but is um- Marc around? Or I guess rather, is he like prepared to have this conversation?" You ask.

"You want to talk to Marc?" Steven whirls around to look at you.

"I think it would be easiest to start by speaking to him yes, if he's in the place to have this discussion." You nod.

"Of course! Just hang on a second." Steven says. You watch from the couch as you notice the switch between Steven and Marc. It's subtle but after seeing it so many times and being so familiar with them as individuals it's easy to know that it's Marc when their eyes pop open again.

"You called?" A small grin appears as Marc greets you.

"I did. Hi Marc." You say as he plops down onto the couch beside you.

"So you've made a decision. Rip off the band-aid." Marc says.

"Don't make it sound so dreadful Marc." You laugh.

"The dreadful part was the waiting." He snorts.

"Well now I wanna make this more dramatic since you're gonna be like that." You poke him.

"I feel like you're stalling now and like if you're not ready to-"

"I'm picking you." You cut him off. You would lose your nerve if you let him go on whatever rant about you stalling he was thinking of.

"What?" He frowns.

"You wanted the band-aid ripped off. I'm picking you." You say.

"Oh-" Marc blinks at you. "I'll admit I'm kind of surprised."

"Why?" Now it's your turn to frown.

"Oh come on, you've always had a soft spot for Steven and I mean Jake is- Jake." Marc scoffs.

"Well- yeah I guess. I mean don't get me wrong I do care for them, a lot. Of course, I do, but- it's different with you. The way I feel for them it- it isn't the same." You say.

"We never stood a chance did we?" You didn't exactly notice the switch but the difference in their voices is obvious.

"Jake?" You're surprised he's here so suddenly.

"You were always going to choose Marc. Makes sense I mean you have known him the longest but-"

"You have to go." Marc's voice cuts off whatever Jake was going to say.

"Wait- what?" You shake your head.

"It's not that I want you to go. They're upset and clearly, we need to have a little system chat."

"Don't be too hard on them, okay? Rejection isn't easy for anyone hm? As long as they aren't hurting anyone allow them to process their feelings in whatever ways work best for them." You warn Marc.

"Sure sure, I'll call you, okay babe?"

"Babe?" You quirk an eyebrow up at him.

"Oh, I guess I didn't ask- does this make us an item? Am I your boyfriend?"

"Would you like to be?" You ask.

"Of course." He nods.

"Then yes. You are."

"Cool. So- I'll call you later babe."

"Sounds good." You nod. You pause for a moment, should you kiss him? You want to but it's probably not a good idea with Jake as upset as he seems. You turn to leave but Marc grabs your wrist before you can get far.

"What was that look?" He asks as he pulls you back towards him.

"Nothing I just- I was debating on if I was going to kiss you, but given the... internal conflict now doesn't seem like a good time for that." You say.

"You're probably right." Marc huffs out his annoyance.

"I'll make it up to you. Good luck and try to enjoy your evening."

"You too." Marc says. With that, you leave Marc to whatever discussion he's going to have with Jake and Steven- here's hoping your choice doesn't backfire.

***

Taglist: @queerponcho @avengersinitiative2012 @stressed-cherry

[kjwings-blog]

Azriel/reader in Battle of Hybern

This is a one shot of the reader in the Battle of Hybern. The reader is Azriel's mate. The reader is critically injured in battle and the whole piece is about them suffering injuries and him finding them. I have never written fanfic but the hurt/comfort trope is fascinating to me.

*TW for violence, injuries, war

It was the final battle against Hybern. Rhys was amidst the fighting, as was Mor and Azriel. Feyre and Amren and her sisters had long since disappeared. Cassian's entire regiment had been reduced to ashes, and he had since rejoined the slaughter.

You know Azriel shouldn't be fighting. He had been injured saving Elaine and Feyre and wasn't fully recovered. His wings, his beautiful wings had been shredded and patched and there was no way he was strong enough to last throughout this fight.

As a seasoned warrior you know you need to focus on the fight. Any slip in concentration would get you or your fellow warriors killed. But at the back of your mind you were constantly thinking of Azriel. Azriel, his strong body and quiet soul and Azriel, your mate, your mate your mate....

He was supposed to be safe and out of battle, but you knew that there was no way that he would tolerate standing on the sidelines while his family fought. This morning, when everyone said goodbye to each other, you stood to the side with him while he rested his forehead against yours, closed his eyes and caressed your cheek. He begged you to be careful, to be safe, and almost didn't let go of your hand as everyone took their respective places amidst the army. His dark eyes, full of grief were the last thing you saw as you winnowed down into battle.

Now there is slaughter on all sides. You have two sleek swords, one in each hand as you fight and fight the Hybern foot soldiers. This is where you excel, you are a master warrior. But you are getting tired. You and everyone on all sides. Hybern is endless and it seems there is no end in site.

You finish taking down the a particularly large Hybern beast when you feel a sharp, slicing pain through your side. You whirl around and meet the next strike from a crazed Hybern soldier, striking his sword arm with one of your own and ending his life with the other.

You take quick inventory of the injury. It is a deep laceration across the right side of your lower ribs and it is bleeding but doesn't seem to be too deep. You've had worse, but your right side is your strong side and you know that this will likely put you at a disadvantage. And it hurts, it really fucking hurts.

You take a shuddering breath, keeping your right arm against your body and raising your left sword again. You let a fleeting image of Azriel into your head, praying for his safety and knowing you will likely die before the end of the battle. Maybe he won't make it through the battle either. You pray you're wrong.

Despite your wound you fight and fight. You were made to never quit. You fight for your family and friends and Prythian. You pray Feyre can end this soon. You will not quit; you will not yield.

At some point in the battle, giants from Hybern's army appear. You do not see them coming from behind. But you hear the shrieking of fellow soldiers as they begin to die. You turn at the first increase in screams, and see a giant bowl a boulder in your direction. You are lucky enough to dodge and just make it out of the way. You stumble at the last minute though, and an incomprehensibly large hand wraps around you from behind. There is no escape, it's grip is crushing. Just as fast as it grabs you you are hurled throughout space, striking the ground with immense speed, bouncing and then rolling. You come to a stop in the field amidst your fellow fallen soldiers.

The words rocks and you struggle to catch your breath. You are nauseous and you cannot see clearly. Your ears are ringing and you are pretty sure several of your bones are broken. You can't get your body to cooperate with you, and you are pretty sure you are dying.

You cannot move from where you have landed, prone on the muddy field, your left arm trapped underneath you, your left cheek on the ground. You manage to somewhat catch your breath, but breathing remains difficult. You know you have broken ribs, you feel them grind together with every breath.

You do not know how long you lie there, fighting to breathe, to move. You lie there listening to the sounds of war, the whimpers of your fellow soldiers. After what feels like years, you know something has happened with the cauldron. You felt immense power, the soldiers of Hybern have since disappeared. The sounds of the injured around have started to quiet.

The sun has begun to set, and you are cold but are not shivering. You escape into your memories of Azriel, praying that he remains unhurt. You think of waking up with him in a warm bed, your head on his chest, his hand lazily caressing your back. You remember the beat of his steady heart, his soft smile, his face and body at peace, and you pray he can find peace again as you let darkness overcome you.

You are awakened by someone grabbing you by the shoulders and being roughly turned over. The hands are shaking, and you hear deep, gut wrenching sobs as you hear the voice say your name over and over. It is night time, and it is cold. You feel so, so weak. You try and speak, but all that comes out is a soft and agonized moan.

After a moment you recognize that it is Azriel who has found you. Your mate, who of course would find you. You open your eyes to slits and see his face is covered in blood and there are tracks from tears running down his cheeks. You can see his mouth moving but cannot comprehend the words. Blue light from his siphons, weaker than normal, wraps around your chest, covering the wound and stabilizing your ribs somewhat. You feel the blue light wrap around your leg. He straightens your head and slightly tilts your head back to help you breath easier. His hands are on your face, stroking your hair from your face. He looks up and seems to be shouting at someone. As his eyes move back to you the darkness claims you once more.

Next you remember is being set down on a hard surface. You are in a tent, and you hear the wailing of injured and shouting around you. There are hands removing your armor and clothing. You open your eyes to see two healers you recognize as apprentices of Madja. To your left you see Cassian wrap an arm around Azriels chest and pull Azriel backwards out of the way. Azriel does not fight. You know Feyre and Rhys must be somewhere nearby because you hear Feyre ask Rhys to take the pain away. You feel dark claws at the edge of your mind, giving one loving caress before you feel a blanket settle over your mind and you loss consciousness again.

The first thing you are aware of when you wake up is the steady stroking of the back of your hand. There are birds chirping in the distance. There is quiet speaking, and soft sobs and moans around you. Your eyes open to see your beautiful mate staring at you. There is grief etched in every angle of his strong body. He is covered in mud and blood and grime. He does not not appear to be injured, however, and you feel light with the relief that you both have made it through together. He murmurs your name and begins to silently weep. You recognize you are in a field infirmary, and there are dozens of injured warriors around you. Azriel's hand is in yours, and the other comes to cup your cheek. He struggles to find words, but manages to say "I love you, I love you" over and over.

It was early morning when you awoke in the infirmary. Azriel could not find the words to describe to you how the war had ended. He just wanted to make sure you were comfortable and ok, and explained that you would be bedridden for several days, but that you would be ok.

After some time Rhys and Feyre come in. Feyre talks and talks, explaining how Amren had gone into the Cauldron, how Rhys had sacrificed himself to fix it. How the other High Lords and brought him back to life, and how her sisters had killed the King of Hybern. You notice Rhys is leaning slightly against Feyre, but he does not give any other sign to indicate he was very recently dead. Rhys asks for your account of the war, and you show him. You are both silent for a few minutes as you show him a fast-forwarded version of your memories. You realize that your experience could be condensed down to fighting soldiers for hours and then lying injured and waiting to die. You show him your memories up until him helping you into unconsciousness while being healed.

He is quiet for a time, lost in thought and then tells you he is proud to have fought with you, and that you fought exceptionally well. He shows you a condensed version of Azriel's memories with Azriel's associated emotions filtered out. At the end of the battle while Cassian and Rhys where being healed, Azriel was searching for you on the battlefield. He and his soldiers combed through the dead in search of the living, and his focus was only on finding you. You stay in the memory long enough to see Azriel finding you and turning you over. You pull out back to the present just as you see yourself slowly gasping for air, as the memory is the pain is still so, so fresh.

Azriel refuses to leave your side. Rhys grants him temporary leave from his duties until he is sure Azriel can focus safely. After several days, when the injured are healed enough to move, the camp is taken down. Azriel and his shadows winnow you back to the House of Wind to your room. You spend several more days recovering, spending lazy days together talking, reading, and basking in each other's company.

[bitebackbaby]

Loved your Fox fics, especially the last one! I was wondering if you’ve got fully fleshed out characterizations for the rest of his batch, and if you’d ever write for them? I love the idea of Fox being the baby for once 😭

(I truly mean this without the intention of any pressure but if it comes across that way please ignore)

yes… YES!!

pressure? my friend, you’ve activated my trap card. you’ll never get me to shut up now.

Fox as baby is just way too much fun, especially since I write him as one of the oldest CC’s in general, which means that no one else sees him as a baby lmao, so when his batch rolls up and starts asking fox where his bib is and if he’s been napping enough (b/c baby get cranky 😔) the reaction is just 😦

(info under the cut, as this turned out pretty long lmao)

I have the most info on CC-1009, aka “Vulture”, b/c i have created an entire battalion and separate storyline for him, haha ^^’ but i won’t go into that much detail right here!

(Content warning! Small talk about self-harm below. Jump to the next paragraph to skip it.)

Vulture is a crybaby, and cares deeply about others, but because he has a nasty scar on his face and is a little taller / more solidly built than other CC clones, nobody expects it from him. His scar is gouge marks over his left eye, which he covers with a patch — no cybernetics. He got this scar from an incident when he was still a cadet. After the inital batches were separated into their own training batches (ie, fox w/Cody, Wolfe, etc), Vulture had a really hard time connecting with his new companions and ended up having a dangerous mental spiral. He already had the habit of picking and other tiny, nervous habits, but around this time he had a complete breakdown, and believed that he was seeing the ghosts of dead clone cadets (which, who knows? maybe he was) walking the halls of kamino, so he attempted to scratch his own eyes out to make it stop. He was stopped, thankfully, but only one eye recovered, and he is now blind in his left eye.

Obviously, this incident did nothing to help his reputation, and he was on his way to decommissioning before one of the trainers (an unrelated OC, i wont discuss them here) stepped in and took him on as one of their personal students. Vulture managed to graduate and become the Commander of Battalion 444 (or Triple 4), housed with similarly-disadvantaged clones. They’re the clean up crew, following along after battles to recover bodies left behind and assess damages. Not a glorious position by any means, but a necessary one.

Since they rarely get leave and never close to the Core, Vulture has largely fallen out of contact with Fox, but he still misses him dearly, and has helped the Guard out whenever he could — like when guard trooper Tooka, renamed Rosary, was grabbed by a sentient trafficking ring. Vulture and Triple Four busted that criminal enterprise and returned Rosary back home.

CC-1007 is AiAi, which is short for Aiwha, because everybody gets an animal name in this bunch lmao. It’s also a reference to the AyeAye monkey with their big ol’ eyes <3

AiAi has a mild genetic mutation — they have heterochromia, with one eye being a pale shade of blue. Other than that, AiAi is a fairly average trooper; they had Commander training but not much aptitude for it, and instead shined when it came to piloting. They probably would have been deployed as auxiliary command for a search and rescue battalion, were it not for what happened next.

One of the trainers, an unrelated OC who i won’t go into detail on, was fascinated by AiAi’s mutation, and took a special interest in the cadet because of it. (All of this was non-sexual, in case of any worries — the trainer was interested in taking AiAi as an apprentice, but did not actually care about the cadet as a person, rather than an asset, so these intentions were unwanted, to say the least.) AiAi, understandably nervous and unsure of what to do, put up with their attention and became increasingly casual with the trainer, which they took as an excuse to abduct AiAi from Kamino shortly before he should have been deployed. The trainer was under the impression that AiAi would be grateful for this, and was quite shocked when he protested. Violently.

After escaping their abductor, AiAi wandered the galaxy, unwilling to return to the GAR and possibly be charged with desertion regardless of their willingness in the matter. In a happy AU, he would just pop up on Coruscant after the war to live on Fox’s couch for a while and catch up lol.

CC-1005 is Coyote (pronounced coy-oh-tay), the oldest of the group, and lords it over them constantly. he’s also (objectively, in his opinion) the most book-smart, and is the type who learns every single minutiae of law and policy just so that he can throw it back in your face when you try to argue about him breaking the rules. the kind of guy who would be a great lawyer, but because clones don’t have rights, he goes for the next best thing — Coyote is a medic.

He is well aware of the power structures in place on Kamino, and figured that this was his best way to take advantage of them. by sucking up to the right people, appearing eager and helpful (but not too much, which becomes suspicious), and being willing to bury his pride in an unmarked grave when necessary, Coyote has steadily climbed the ladder in Kamino’s medical community, which is rather more sparse than the bioengineering department. Despite taking leadership training with the other CCs, he continued with the medic track and stayed on Kamino after deployment as the lord of his castle.

Now, does he use that privilege and expertise to help his fellow troopers? …Sometimes. Usually. If he feels like it. Coyote, frankly, just has a mean personality and rarely does anything for free — his batchmates are the sole exceptions. they get discounts <3

There should be six other members of Fox’s batch. One of the clones was not viable upon being decanted, but the other five survived. I tend to shift what happened to them based on the story I’m trying to tell, but I generally keep it as all of them flunking out of training — whether that leads to decommissioning or not depends on how nasty im feeling lmao. This leads into the issues that the rest of the batch have, including Fox’s need to be In Control and always the best, strongest, most competent clone around — because he’s seen, five times over, what happens to those who can’t keep up. It’s an impossible standard, because this whole damn thing is a plot built by a sith to encourage as much suffering as possible, but Fox is just doing his best.

luckily, despite it all, he still has three batchers who love him dearly <3

thanks for asking, and thanks for reading!! quite a rant here, but i hope you enjoyed! and if you ever have any more questions / ocs anyone wants to learn about, feel free to let me know! if nothing else, i love me some exposition lmao

[queenaryastark]

Next time someone tries to play the “Stark Sisters uwu” or “Sansa and Arya LOVE each other” BS, just quote Sansa I AGOT where Sansa watches Joffrey attempt to murder Arya in front of her and her only issue with it is that her beautiful day is now “spoiled”. Sansa even takes issue with Arya gaining the upper hand to defend herself since it puts Joff at a disadvantage and means that Arya will remain alive. I mean seriously:

Sansa slid off her mare, but she was too slow. Arya swung with both hands. There was a loud crack as the wood split against the back of the prince's head, and then everything happened at once before Sansa's horrified eyes. Joffrey staggered and whirled around, roaring curses. Mycah ran for the trees as fast as his legs would take him. Arya swung at the prince again, but this time Joffrey caught the blow on Lion's Tooth and sent her broken stick flying from her hands. The back of his head was all bloody and his eyes were on fire. Sansa was shrieking, "No, no, stop it, stop it, both of you, you're spoiling it," but no one was listening. Arya scooped up a rock and hurled it at Joffrey's head. She hit his horse instead, and the blood bay reared and went galloping off after Mycah. "Stop it, don't, stop it!" Sansa screamed. Joffrey slashed at Arya with his sword, screaming obscenities, terrible words, filthy words. Arya darted back, frightened now, but Joffrey followed, hounding her toward the woods, backing her up against a tree. Sansa didn't know what to do. She watched helplessly, almost blind from her tears. Then a grey blur flashed past her, and suddenly Nymeria was there, leaping, jaws closing around Joffrey's sword arm. The steel fell from his fingers as the wolf knocked him off his feet, and they rolled in the grass, the wolf snarling and ripping at him, the prince shrieking in pain. "Get it off," he screamed. "Get it off!" Arya's voice cracked like a whip. "Nymeria!" The direwolf let go of Joffrey and moved to Arya's side. The prince lay in the grass, whimpering, cradling his mangled arm. His shirt was soaked in blood. Arya said, "She didn't hurt you … much." She picked up Lion's Tooth where it had fallen, and stood over him, holding the sword with both hands. Joffrey made a scared whimpery sound as he looked up at her. "No," he said, "don't hurt me. I'll tell my mother." "You leave him alone!" Sansa screamed at her sister. Arya whirled and heaved the sword into the air, putting her whole body into the throw. The blue steel flashed in the sun as the sword spun out over the river. It hit the water and vanished with a splash. Joffrey moaned. Arya ran off to her horse, Nymeria loping at her heels. After they had gone, Sansa went to Prince Joffrey. His eyes were closed in pain, his breath ragged. Sansa knelt beside him. "Joffrey," she sobbed. "Oh, look what they did, look what they did. My poor prince. Don't be afraid. I'll ride to the holdfast and bring help for you." Tenderly she reached out and brushed back his soft blond hair. -- Sansa I, AGOT

Take note at how again, Sansa is upset that her day has been spoiled. No mention of any concern at Mycah being tortured or Arya possibly being murdered. The issue is initially that her lovely day is now ruined. 

The first time she grows concerned for someone other than herself is when the tables turn and Arya/Nymeria get the upper hand over Joff. Again, Arya almost being killed meant nothing to Sansa. Joffrey being disarmed by Arya and Nymeria... oh, that’s an issue for Sansa. She never screams “You leave Arya alone!” But she does scream “You leave HIM(Joffrey) alone!” When Arya flees into the wilderness for safety, Sansa even comforts Arya’s attempted murderer. It really doesn’t get any clearer than this. Sansa does not love/like/care about Arya. Her interest in Joff is also hollow since it’s rooted in him fitting into her fairytale. So her concern and defense of him is more about promoting her own interests and desires for herself. 

I would also argue that Sansa’s “You leave him alone!” is meant to juxtapose Arya saying the same thing a few paragraphs before while defending Mycah. 

"He's the butcher's boy," Sansa said.

"He's my friend," Arya said sharply. "You leave him alone."

It’s not a coincidence that GRRM has Arya and Sansa saying the exact line about two different boys and with very different motives. Arya and Mycah were minding their  own business when Joff decided to assault him. So Arya defended Mycah. On Sansa’s side, she saw Arya defending Mycah and herself from Joff and decided to defend Joff, the personification of her fairytale life. 

Just to sum it up, Sansa is an overtly bad person who does not love her sister or anyone who doesn’t promote her self-interest. It’s not subtle. GRRM makes it clear and unambiguous from her own POV chapters that she is a terrible person who only cares about having nice things and good experiences for herself at the expense of others. Even if it means others get tortured and murdered. So long as she’s happy and living her dream, everything is good.

The Stark sisters do not love each other. Arya cares about Sansa as part of the pack not as an individual while Sansa doesn’t care about her at all. 

[misschifuyu]

General relationship headcanons with Inui and Hakkai

requested

characters: inui seishu + hakkai shiba

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Inui

inui is someone who is very careful when it comes to expressing his feelings. he much prefers to keep a neutral stance whenever speaking to those he cares most about, simply because it helps him not develop too strong of a bond with the other person. he's afraid to follow the path of koko, so he's especially careful when it comes to love

so it came as quite the shock when you came into his life. no doubt, he found you attractive at first glance, but even after just a few words exchanged here and there, he had started to wonder - and, frankly, worry - why he wanted to continue listening to you, to get to know you better

as he started to connect the dots, he quickly recalled just how his friend would act with his sister. and it frightened him.

he was falling and he had nothing to grab onto, to stop himself from sinking into the one emotion he had been running away from - love

when you confessed, since he most definitely not put himself in that situation seeing as he was trying to control his growing affection towards you, he would be left absolutely stunned. of course, he reciprocated your words, but it would take him a few minutes to explain to you that he was scared of a relationship

but, don't worry. you understood him, and were willing to take things as slow as he needed. after all, there was no need to rush into everything all at once

give him a few weeks, let's say two. during this time, he would visit you much more often, hold your hand when he knew no prying eyes were around and, all around, start warming up to you. of course, he knew you well enough by that point, but it still took him a little to get used to the whole relationship status

he will, undoubtedly, come to koko whenever he had any doubts. he wants to improve himself for you, trying his best to become the partner you deserve. his friend may be not always be of the best help, but anything was better than nothing

once he has fallen into a comfortable state around you, you will quickly notice what he had been deprived of all these years. he turns into a very affection person whenever he's around you, mostly when you're either at his house or yours. expect to be followed around quietly by this softie

hugs from behind are his personal favourite. feeling you so close to him, your arms holding onto his as he bring you into his chest and rests his head on yours. it's very comforting for him, so expect him to do so quite often. he may be silent as he does so, but the way his heartbeat will slow down will be enough to tell you that he feels safe with you

play with his hair whenever the two of you are cuddling, trust me. your fingers running through his soft locks will be enough to send him off into a good, hour-long nap, no questions ask. he's a pretty deep sleeper, so you can tie his hair up into a bun. he will be oblivious to it all until he walks past a mirror upon waking up, groggy eyes fixating on the little mass of hair on the top of his head

one thing that will truly make his heart flutter is whenever you pepper his face with kisses. although he may not mention it, he's a little insecure about his scar. but this will quickly change when you tell him how all his features are absolutely beautiful, placing little, butterfly kisses on his soft skin as he lays on your lap, facing you from below

you truly are his source of comfort, of love. he won't brag about you, but by the way his lips would turn up into a smile when he knows he'll see you after a meeting is more than enough to let the other members of the gang know just how much he loves you

a closeted lover boy, let's say

he will, on occasions, turn up at your house during the late hours of the evening with a a flower or two he picked up on his way to your place, or even a box of your favourite snacks. anything that reminds him of you, really. and if you gift him something, you best believe he will treasure it as though his life depended on it

one thing that you hadn't expected from him was his liking towards taking pictures. he's always been fond of snapping pictures of sceneries here and there, and he just so happens to have one of these polaroid cameras

your wall - and his, for that matter - will be filled with selfies, random pictures of him you'd take and some of yourself that he'd keep on his bedside table. he deemed it a way to remind him of how much the two of you have been through and the importance you held in his life

of course, his phone wallpaper is a picture of the two of you when you went to a summer fair, where he most definitely didn't spend the best part of half his change on trying to win you a prize that had caught your eye

afterwards, you had insisted on trying to win him something too; however, he had assured you that there was no need, he was more than content with seeing you get a prize instead

inui will be very cautious when it comes to your involvement with anything related to the gang. if you happen to be also member, he will stick by your side just as much as he does with koko, and will not hesitate to throw himself into a dangerous situation if you were ever at a disadvantage

he's a little reckless when it comes to this. he acts without thinking when it comes to your safety, so more often than not, others will have to get involved if things get ugly. he may not look like much of a threat, but he will completely change his demeanour whenever those he loved were involved

he just can't afford to lose another person again. having found someone he could fully trust in, and show love to, he isn't about to let some punk take it all away from him. so he will put his own life on the line

but it's mutual, between the two of you. undoubtedly made for each other, it would take some doing from the enemy to actually knock one of you out. truly a couple that any gangster would wish for, that is an indisputable fact

Hakkai

the baby of the shibas. he may act all tough and strong when with toman, but it's a given fact that he has a very soft, vulnerable side. it's really what comes with such a conflictive childhood; but he will constantly try to put all of that behind him, building himself up to stand up to those who looked down upon him

this strategy of his, however, won't be very effective when he was introduced to you. a close friend of mitsuya's, he had thought the two of you might get along quite well. right off the bat, hakkai had to take a few seconds before actually coming to the decision of what to say to you upon first seeing you

he couldn't exactly tell you how attractive you were on the first day, now could he?

as the two of you would get to know you better - fulfilling mitsuya's expectations - he would start to notice that he looked forward to seeing you each time there was a meeting. this would lead to a timid suggestion of hanging out either before or after the next meeting, receiving a content response from your behalf

his crush will go anything but unnoticed by his sister. yuzuha will quickly notice how he would come home a little quiet, lost in his thoughts although not in a gloomy state. he actually seemed to be a little happier now

she would be the one to push him to confess to you, after having heard his considerably long rant about you that he accidentally came out with whilst he was talking to her. she was over the moon to hear that her little brother was finally crushing on someone, and would walk him through all the key points to not scare you off or come off as weird when he told you about his feelings

luckily enough, her strategies proved to be successful, and before he could even register it in his mind, hakkai had achieved a relationship with the one that had been flooding his thoughts for a good few months now

although he may not be entirely experienced in the whole dating area, he will be anything but shy when trying his best to be the perfect boyfriend. he may not show much pda, mainly because he still tries to upkeep his strong persona even around you, but his lingering will not go unnoticed by the other members. wherever you were, hakkai was never too behind

he just loves being around you, to be able to call you his partner. you're like a little - since this guy is ridiculously tall - beam of light that he wished he could keep by his side at all times. behind closed doors he will be much more affectionate, to the point you would actually wonder if this was the same person you would attend toman meetings with

being the soft giant he is, he absolutely loves engulfing you in his arms. spooning you, hugs from behind, laying you on his chest, you name it. he can be awfully cheesy at times, too, so expect to be showered with the most sappy comments ever. you're convinced he keeps a list of them.

"you wanna know what's the best thing in my life? it's the first word of this sentence"

"hakkai...you realise that just works better written down, right?"

definitely an avid enthusiast of making you think over why you were with him in the first place. of course, you loved him and everything that came with the youngest shiba, but sometimes you truly wondered where he got his personality from

speaking of family, meeting his siblings will be an experience in itself, to say the least. yuzuha will be ever so welcoming when you first went over to their house, offering you food and sitting you down to get to know you better. she knew you were a perfect match for her brother, and she's delighted to have you as a sister-in-law

now...taiju may be a little different. just by appearance, he's quite intimidating. you did know about him, but you had never actually spoken to him in the entirety of your life. hakkai will stand nearby when you eventually meet him, just in case something got out of hand.

however, surprisingly enough, the eldest sibling gave you a friendly pat on your shoulder, thanking you for finally giving his brother a chance at a relationship. the way it came off sounded like he believed hakkai to be almost unlovable, but you supposed it was pretty good coming from such a scary individual

needless to say, your boyfriend had a few things to murmur about when his brother left. you reassure him that it was alright, though. truthfully, you had expected it to go another way even

dates with hakkai will be quite an often occurrence. apart from his duties in toman, he doesn't have much to do. he attends online school, so as soon as he slaps his laptop closed, he's usually on his way over to your house. he will always take you out on a ride on his motorbike, around the busy city filled with people and commotion

you want to go out for lunch? he knows the best places. want to go shopping? the guy brought his wallet for a reason. he's such a sucker for you that he will drive across the city for even the smallest thing for you, he didn't mind. if it meant he could see that smile of yours, he's absolutely willing to do anything

he's also a perfect shopping partner. he hangs out with mitsuya a lot, so he's picked up on some knowledge on fashion and is more than happy to help you pick out outfits. he will always offer to carry your bags, too. truly the perfect boyfriend, wouldn't you agree?

just be sure to shower him in love and kisses once you get back home. he will happily receive each and every one with a wide smile, lifting you up into his arms as he tells you, once more, how much he loves you

some may say the two of you are too soft and sappy for a couple involved in the gangster world, but neither of you could care less. not everyone could say they fought alongside their partner that they would, afterwards, spend quality time with, no matter how bruised up you were

you always had a laugh after a fight with other gangs; both of you would always mock the rivals, saying how they never really stood a chance in the first place

the two of you are like a pair of old women when it came to judging people neither of you liked; if anyone happened to listen in, they would automatically think you were simply best friends by the way you would speak

needless to say, hakkai will be both an amazing boyfriend as much as a friend, and you can always count on him if you're ever in need of a mood booster, because he will rush over to your place as fast as he can

[superhero--imagines]

Part 12

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here!

* You stare at the blank ceiling, the smooth unblemished surface like freshly fallen snow

* you should really put some nudie posters up there or something to lighten the mood a little. 

* Light notes from the piano float around your room

* You sigh, so these are the facts as you know them:

* Edward is your best friend who has occasional bouts of brooding and flirtatious behavior.

* Bella is not albino, she has a lovely peach undertone, and a lovely grilled peach scent

* The entire coven has treated your attraction to this young lady’s blood like you got caught masturbating or wetting the bed or something

* “You don’t need to be embarrassed it’s a perfectly natural feeling.” Esme tells you while rubbing your shoulders

* “We’ve all been there” Rosalie reassures

* “Totally not a big deal, it happens to me everyday!” Jasper chimes in

* You wish sunlight hurt you so you could combust into flames on the spot

* The piano notes get louder, and you feel your mouth pinch into a frown.

* “Oh my god Edward! Read the room, I want brooding music!”

* Edward stops, up until then he had been playing a pretty cheerful Mozart piece

* You can tell he wants to ask why, you’ve been radiating joy non-stop since biology. But he decides against it

* “You really shouldn’t eat lying down.” He says as you sip blood while lying flat on your bed.

* “Okay dad.” You snort

* Edward starts to imagine what it would be like if you called him ‘daddy’

* All needy on top of him, your hands curled in fists against his chest, the breathy “daddy please” that leaves your mouth

* All of a sudden he’s ugly turned on

* “Ugh you’re no fun, I’m going to hang out with Rosalie”

* You leave the room and Edward has a total meltdown, is this what a kink is? Is he discovering a kink?!? At 100 years of age?!?!?!?

* Edward.exe is broken

* You don’t even make it to Rosalie’s room, you can smell them a mile away

* Broccoli, sugar and fat, and axe body spray. No peaches you realize with a sigh.

* They’ve only just barely rung the door bell when you open the door

* “Hey what are you guys doing here?”

* Jessica’s standing in front, looking pretty at ease, while Mike and Angela look equally uncomfortable.

* Makes sense, Jessica’s here all the time now either for homework or to watch TV.

* Mike and Angela haven’t been back since your sweet sixteen

* “How did you get down here so fast?”

* “I saw your car from upstairs” you say with a sheepish smile.

* You wish Alice would have given you a heads up, you weren’t planning on pretending to be human right now. Still you probably look raggedy enough right now in sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt

* You can probably pull this sick thing off

* “We just wanted to check up on you, I heard from Mike and Angela you got sick during class.” And then in a more annoyed tone Jessica adds “And I guess you’re too sick to respond to all my texts and calls”

* Oh crap, where is your phone.

* You pat your pockets, and think when you saw it last

* “I left it in my locker” you smack your head. You told Edward to go grab your bag from class but you forgot your phone.

* “Hey don’t worry about it, I can get it for you tomorrow if you want.” Jessica rushes to your side and pats your arm. You shake your head

* “No I can get it myself, I’m fine I just ate something bad.” You mumble.

* You’re not missing school tomorrow. You would literally risk murder to smell Bella again.

* It’s not insatiable thirst like described in the books, more like a craving, like someone might have for nachos.

* It itches at you for a while, but if you just distract yourself long enough you can move on

* “Would you like to come in? I think Esme just baked cookies or scones or something.”

* Esme likes to bake for the smell and donate the food to the local shelter. That, or take it for her employees at her architectural firm in town.

* Firm is a loose word, she has maybe four employees, and they get one job a month, but it seems to make her happy.

* Angela and Mike give each other looks but Jessica perks up

* “Is she making those delicious earl grey scones again?” You sniff the air

* “I think she made some of that orange zest butter too”

* “Omg I am so happy you left your phone at school” Jessica giggles walking inside past you, you hear her greet Esme with a squeal

* “They really are good.” You tell them and your remaining human friends enter the house carefully

* “Soooo where is everyone?” Mike asks taking a look around your living room.

* “Ummm Rosalie’s in the garage, Alice is probably meditating on the roof, Emmett’s at swim practice, and Jasper’s probably at the barn.”

* “What about Edward?” Angela asks before Mike can ask about the barn

* Last you saw him he was playing the piano in your room, but it’s been a while since then

* “He’s probably in his room monologuing about the degradation of the American dream or something.”

* You lead them into the kitchen where Esme and Jessica are already deep in conversation about the wonder of her baking

* “-side is so light and fluffy, how do you get the tea flavor though”

* “Witchcraft.” Esme jokes, giving a full smile before putting another tray in the oven. Only Jessica laughs, the other two are too nervous to even sit down

* “Why don’t I teach you how when you come over next week.”

* Yeah you’re pretty sure Jessica is really only a fan of the “eating” and not of the “baking”

* You’re half surprised when she seems happy at the invitation. 

* “Oh that sounds great, I can’t wait for it!” Jessica’s practically beaming

* Where’s Edward when you need him? You wonder what her motivations are. 

* Jasper is not going to like this. He’s already irritated enough that he’s kicked out of his own house every Friday when Jessica comes over to watch arrested development

* Before you can say anything to Esme the conversation moves forward

* “Did you guys hear about that security guard that died in Mason county?”

* She’s just making small talk, you know that. But you and Esme instantly tense at the mention

* Carlisle had mentioned he thought there was a nomad wandering through, they were still far enough not to cause the coven immediate trouble, but anything that brought more attention to them was a disadvantage

* “My Dad says he heard from Chief Swan it was probably a wild animal attack” Mike mumbles over a bite of scone, you figured he would be the easiest to win over with food

* You hide a smile behind your hand, he really is like a golden retriever

* “What kind of a wild animal climbs stairs into a building” Jessica mumbles over another bite of scone. And maybe to fit in, or maybe because she’s always been a nervous eater, Angela takes a bite too.

* “Oh wow, these are really good” she murmurs

* Esme Cullen ladies and gentleman, winning the hearts of teenagers with baked goods since 19XX

* “Well you kids stay safe, stay together if you can.” She pats your head and you nod.

* You don’t know the details of the attack, you get the feeling Carlisle still see’s you as a kid and he doesn’t want to burden you.

* But assuming the small changes that have happened have nothing to do with the large changes, that means Laurent, James and Victoria will be passing through soon.

* Maybe it’s for the best Bella doesn’t get involved with Edward until later.

* You’d really like to not get all mixed up in the whole “James Thing” if you can help it.

* “Are you staying for dinner? I’m thinking of whipping up some pasta, maybe a chicken?” Esme looks to you, yeah you have no idea how she’s going to manage that. Besides the baking basics there’s no actually food in this kitchen. And the one upstairs is just for your blood bags.

* “(Y/N), do you think...Carlisle would mind if we used one of... his chickens?”

* His chickens? The only chickens in the house-

* “No Esme! My chickens are only for love and chicken snuggles” and their blood which tastes very leans yet rich. “Not to eat!”

* “It would just be one-we’ll eat your least favorite!”

* You’re really hoping this is her way of chasing the humans out because she doesn’t want to cook.

* “No- oh my god- we’re going to the diner come on!” You say tugging Jessica and Angela to stand.

* “It was great seeing you again Mrs. Cullen, see you next week!” Jessica shouts as the three of them follow you out.

* “Going out? Is that such a good idea it’s late and a school night.” Edward says as he descends down the stairs

* “Oh my god, yes Dad I’ll be home before my curfew.” You say before leaving, cue Edward crumbling onto the stairs as he imagines you calling him “daddy” again

* “I’m going to hell, I’m definitely going to hell.” He mumbles, his face in his hand.

* It’s a really short drive to the diner, also known as the only place to eat in Forks in the mid 2000’s. 

*There’s not even a McDonald’s. It’s almost sad

* And when you get there, while everyone moves ahead to the table you see a familiar face.

* “Oh, Hey Bella”

* Your eyes met and you figured it would be rude not to say anything. It looks like she’s here having dinner with her Dad. 

*She really does look like her dad, same eyes, same cheekbones.

* “Nice to see you again Chief Swan”

* “Nice to see you too, how’s Carlisle doing? Heard it’s been busy at the hospital.”

* “Yeah, it’s like he doesn’t sleep anymore.” You grin at your own joke.

* “Are you feeling alright now?” Bella asks, she looks genuinely concerned

* “Yeah, I um, made some questionable food choices at lunch.”

* There’s an awkward moment of silence. You get the impression that Chief Swan and his daughter are both the “strong silent” types.

* It looks like they’ve both finished eating already

* If you had known she was going to be here you would have made Edward come with you. 

* “Oh hey, do you want to join us for dinner?” It just seems like the friendly thing to do for the new girl, something on-brand with human character

* Definitely not because if you get on her good side now, maybe she won’t kick you out once her and Edward get married. 

*Father and daughter exchange a glance and the familiar connection they have makes you nervous. 

*“Of course you don’t have to, I know you’re here with your dad so-“

* “I’m sure Bella would love to join-“ Charlie says at the same time Bella says:

* “Wouldn’t it be kind of weird since I already ate.”

* Ah, so they’re not as in sync as you thought. 

* You give your best “Golden Girl - You can totally trust me with your daughter” smile.

* “I’m actually not eating either,” you place a hand over your stomach like a human might. “The uh, Clam Linguine is still haunting me, so I’m sticking to broth and sprite.”

* Why did you say Clam? You don’t even eat meat, it’s how you’ve been getting away with eating so little at lunch. 

* “not a lot of vegetarian choices” You say to your human friends who nod solemnly. 

* Father and Daughter exchange another look likening telepathic communication and they both move to stand

* “I’m going to finish up some paperwork at the precinct, don’t stay out to late.” Charlie says, leaning down to kiss his daughter on the forehead

* You watch with warm eyes and a small smile twitching onto your lips

* Bella is so loved.

* You can’t believe she’s willing to break her dad’s heart just so she can be 19 forever.

* Which, as you are 19 forever, you can fairly say is overrated

* “Hey guys Bella’s joining us.”

* Your female friends offer her a polite smile, you see Angela gaze flick from the menu to Bella’s face. Silently calculating the worth of this opportunity

* Any intel on this new girl would be pretty valuable

* Same old Angela

* Mike sits up straight so fast that he actually knocks his silverware off the table.

* “H-hey Bella, Hi, w-what, what are you doing here?”

* “Eating.” Bella says it so bluntly that you can’t help but laugh.

* Mike flushes bright red and Jessica and Angela exchange a look before giggling.

* “I thought it would be cool if she came over since I didn’t get to talk to her much.” You take a seat next to Jessica and Bella follows by taking the last seat between you and Mike.

* You still catch whiffs of her scent her and there, especially when she’s sitting so close to you.

* But it’s not so bad, the peachy smell is making you a little lightheaded, but you can handle it.

* At least you’re not fantascizing about killing her and everyone in this room like a certain dork you know.

* “Do you guys want to do that promotion where we get the basket of fries for the table?” Jessica asks

* “I don’t like sharing fries with Mike he eats them all.” Angela mumbles

* Yeah you remember last time when after a football game the three of them actually sat down and divided the plate in three equal portions

* They even measured out each fry dividing up the extra long ones 

* “Says the person who basically eats ketchup with a spoon.” Mike retorts and Angela scoffs

* “It’s America’s best condiment for a reason Mike.” Angela snaps back

* “I think we’re getting off track, I say Mike buys us all french fries to make up for all the times he hogged the joint basket” Jessica’s teasing but Mike takes it seriously

* “What so I’m a French fry monster now?”

* “Yes” Both Angela and Jessica respond in unison without looking up from their menu cards

* “What do you think Bella?” You’re surprised that Jessica’s the one asking. You get the feeling she’s not very happy about Mike’s crush on Bella.

* “I think Mike should buy everyone their own basket since he has such a bad history with sharing.”

* “You traitor!” Mike mocks hurt and you all laugh.

* You look at Bella through the corner of your eye, maybe it’s just the lighting but she looks pinker when she’s laughing.

* She looks happy as she starts contributing to the conversation.

* “I will say the pie here is really good, I wouldn’t share even if someone paid me to.”

* “Omg yes, the cheery icebox pie is out of this world” Jessica responds

* “I’m partial to chess pie” Mike pipes in and Angela laughs

* “You guys are crazy, the fruit custard they make is the best”

* You grin as your four new friends argue about the superior dessert, watching Bella laugh beside you.

* Welcome to team human Bella

Tags:  @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @xxxmuxxx @puritanicalhypocrite

[osakaso5]

IDOLiSH7 End Of Year Story 2021: Idol Werewolf

~LIVE or HEAVEN~ Part 13: Nighttime Stategy Meetings ~Day 5~

Chapter Index

Yamato Nikaido: You've gotta be kidding me, Riku..! Uooohhh...!!!

Yamato Nikaido: You guys had better execute Kujo after this!!!

Yamato Nikaido: He's the wolf..! You have to believe me..! 

- - - -

Iori Izumi: We were saved by Nanase-san's nonsensical little skits...

Tenn Kujo: Right...

Iori Izumi: What's wrong? You seem concerned.

Tenn Kujo: ...I think Ryu's onto me.

Iori Izumi: Tsunashi-san...

Tenn Kujo: At least that's what I think. He's too nice to start interrogating me until he's confirmed his hunch to be true.

Iori Izumi: He isn't the type to fall under suspicion and get executed, so I'd like to attack him... But now is not the time for that.

Tenn Kujo: Right. I'll get executed tomorrow, so let's stick with the plan and attack Nanase-san.

Iori Izumi: Right. You should accuse someone of being a wolf tomorrow, though.

Iori Izumi: If that person gets executed before you, victory is ours.

Tenn Kujo: Got it. Who should I accuse? I've already "read" Ryu's fortune.

Iori Izumi: Well, as far as the others go... Him.

Iori Izumi: Inumaru-san suspected me. You should accuse him.

Iori Izumi: Keeping him around for too long will put me at a disadvantage.

Tenn Kujo: Fine. We just need Ryu, your brother, and Isumi-san on our side.

Iori Izumi: No, we don't. If even one of them sides with us, we'll have just enough votes for a draw.

Iori Izumi: If we're forced to  revote, then it's just a matter of which one of you will be more convincing.

Tenn Kujo: So if we manage to delay the vote, we'll win.

Iori Izumi: That's right.

Tenn Kujo: Public opinion can be a very scary thing.

Iori Izumi: Agreed.

Iori Izumi: It won't be long before we fall under suspicion. If possible, we should try to win by tomorrow night... 

- - - -

Tamaki Yotsuba: Hang in there, Iorin and Tenten..!

Gaku Yaotome: Ryu! Izumi Senior! Inumaru! Isumi! Don't let these wolves fool you!

Nagi Rokuya: Hm... How very educational.

Minami Natsume: What is?

Nagi Rokuya: Without clear suspects, a community that has fallen victim to paranoia...

Nagi Rokuya: Will be easily overtaken by two, very confident adversaries.

Momo: Sure seems that way.

Torao Mido: They're full of openings, too. They keep falling for distractions.

Torao Mido: Then again, once you're in the thick of things, it might be harder to notice that.

Gaku Yaotome: And voicing your doubts might risk you being targeted next.

Minami Natsume: Because none of them speak up, the wolves are able to shape their view of the situation.

Momo: Watching this makes me think that if you say something, no matter how wrong you might be...

Momo: The people who know you will stick by you. And I think that's really important.

Gaku Yaotome: Right.

Sogo Osaka: But if you don't have anyone's trust, people are quick to turn on you. I got executed on the very first day, after all...

Tamaki Yotsuba: I said I was sorry..!

Sogo Osaka: I'm not mad. That vote was the result of a very small incident.

Sogo Osaka: You apologized to me, then someone else took that to mean that we were on the same side...

Nagi Rokuya: It was Iori.

Sogo Osaka: Huh..? Oh, wow... So it was all planned out by him...

Nagi Rokuya: This game is most exciting. I would love to play it again!

Yuki: Oh, it's about time.

[Creak...]

Yamato Nikaido: .........

Audience: Kyaaaaaa..!

Yamato Nikaido: What the...

Yamato Nikaido: This must be heaven.

Audience: Kyaaaaaa..!

Yamato Nikaido: Happy New Year!

Audience: Happy New Year!

Yamato Nikaido: Were you guys watching me?

Audience: We were!

Audience: You were so cool!

Audience: I believed in you..!

Yamato Nikaido: Thanks!

Yamato Nikaido: I feel a lot better after hearing that.

Audience: Kyaaaaaa..!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Hey, Yama-san!

Nagi Rokuya: Welcome, Yamato!

Yamato Nikaido: They've got food, and beer! You guys have been having a feast!

Sogo Osaka: Hehe. Yes we have.

Yamato Nikaido: Wow... I should've ended up here sooner.

Momo: The real fortune-teller can't leave too early! Let me get you some beer for all your hard work!

Yamato Nikaido: Yeah, hard work is right! Take you, for example. You were way too good out there, Momo-san..!

Yuki: He was scary good.

Yamato Nikaido: Ahaha, says the partner he sold out.

Yuki: Don't wag your finger at me.

Sogo Osaka: Tamaki-kun and Momo-san are forming a "Traitors to Their Partner" unit.

Yamato Nikaido: That's a hell of a unit name... Literally.

Minami Natsume: Oh..? Could it be that this game might conclude tomorrow?

Torao Mido: One, two... Yep. There's gonna be an equal number of wolves and villagers, unless one of the wolves gets executed tomorrow.

Yamato Nikaido: Wait, do the villagers know?

Gaku Yaotome: I'm not sure if Ryu even remembers the rules...

Minami Natsume: Inumaru-san and the others seem content to leave minding the small details to Iori Izumi.

Minami Natsume: If none of them speaks up, they could lose by virtue of carelessness.

Yuki: I still don't get all this number business, myself.

Momo: Once Riku gets attacked tonight, that leaves six people, including two wolves, right?

Yuki: Right.

Momo: If one villager gets executed tomorrow, and another attacked the following night, there'll be two wolves and two villagers left.

Momo: And if there's an equal number on both sides, the villagers lose.

Yuki: Oh, crap.

Nagi Rokuya: OH! Fight, villagers! Mitsuki, remember to count the wolves!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Iorin, Tenten! Hang on for just a little longer!

Momo: I believe in you, my dear wolfies!

Gaku Yaotome: As the fox, which side are you rooting for, Natsume?

Minami Natsume: Well... As a fellow monster, I suppose I should be casting  my lot with the wolves.

Torao Mido: That makes us enemies. Toma, Haruka, you've got this!

Sogo Osaka: Mitsuki-san! Don't let go of your suspicions of Iori-kun just yet!

Yamato Nikaido: He was doubting Ichi? And whose fortunes did he think were real?

Sogo Osaka: Yours, I think?

Yamato Nikaido: Mitsu..! I believe in you, too!

Gaku Yaotome: Ryu! Take 'em down! 

- - - -

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: ...Tenn... He might be a wolf...

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I know he said he just got excited and blurted out his results, but...

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: He's not really the type to speak without thinking. I know  how much self-restraint he has. 

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: He doesn't so much as yelp if he gets hurt while working. Do you really think someone like him would suddenly fail to control himself?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: ...I don't know. Maybe he was trying to play up his reactions to keep the show interesting?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Nah...

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: That's unlikely.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: We had already established that fortune results get announced at the same time.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: He wouldn't break an agreement between all of us and act on his own without a reason.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: He had to have  some sort of specific goal... Such as...

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: .........

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: ...Is Tenn a wolf, after all?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: What do you think, Gaku!? 

- - - -

Mitsuki Izumi: ...Yamato-san got got. And I still don't know which one is the real fortune-teller.

Mitsuki Izumi: I wanna believe that it was Yamato-san, but Kujo's awfully calm for someone who could be faking it...

Mitsuki Izumi: We're gonna execute Kujo next. Then we have to figure out who the remaining wolf is.

Mitsuki Izumi: Tsunashi-san's reaction seemed genuine back there, so maybe it's Inumaru?

Mitsuki Izumi: If it's not Tsunashi-san, Iori, or Isumi, then it has to be him.

Mitsuki Izumi: I forget why, but I remember thinking it was weird that he didn't get attacked.

Mitsuki Izumi: I guess it's Kujo, then Inumaru... 

- - - -

Haruka Isumi: I can't believe I trusted Minami...

Haruka Isumi: He, Kujo-san, and Nanase were kinda my fave villagers and everything. Hmm. Maybe I've got it all wrong.

Haruka Isumi: Kujo-san's still gotta be real, right? I mean, we has all excited this morning and everything.

Haruka Isumi: Probably because he got the fox. It all seemed pretty authentic to me.

Haruka Isumi: And there's no way the wolf's Izumi. The younger one, I mean.

Haruka Isumi: He kept telling us to kill off Yotsuba. He wouldn't tell us to do that if they were allies.

Haruka Isumi: So that leaves... ...Toma..?

Haruka Isumi: But when I said I suspected him, he seemed shocked! I don't think he was acting, either.

Haruka Isumi: Or maybe he was. Hmm... Ah, I guess I'm just being a pessimist.

Haruka Isumi: I think up a worst-case scenario, and then I start believing it's real because of how bad it is.

Haruka Isumi: Like, the less I want Toma to be lying to me, the more I'm convinced that that's what he's doing.

Haruka Isumi: Maybe that's why he seems like a wolf to me? Should I trust him, Torao?

Haruka Isumi: Tsunashi-san seems like a pretty nice guy. And so does Izumi's big brother!

Haruka Isumi: That's why they don't seem like liars to me... ...They also do acting on the side, though. So in the end, they could be just like Minami.

Haruka Isumi: .........

Haruka Isumi: Uugh, I've had enough of this...

Haruka Isumi: I hope I get killed before I have to start actually figuring stuff out... 

- - - -

Toma Inumaru: So, Mina was the fox spirit...

Toma Inumaru: I have no idea which fortune-teller's what. But we're still executing Kujo tomorrow, right?

Toma Inumaru: That means we'll have gotten rid of a wolf for sure.

Toma Inumaru: That's gonna leave us with five people, one of whom is a wolf...

Toma Inumaru: We have two more days left. That means we can still make one miss.

Toma Inumaru: I bet they're all gonna suspect me... I guess Haru already is, actually. Is it because of my face?

Toma Inumaru: I'm still worried about the younger Izumi... I'd hate for someone like him to be a wolf.

Toma Inumaru: If I was a wolf, he'd be the first person I'd get rid of.

Toma Inumaru: Still, it's true that the wolves could've been prioritizing the hunter and medium over him...

Toma Inumaru: Hmm...

Toma Inumaru: I guess we should take him out after Kujo. 

- - - -

Torao Mido: None of them have noticed that tomorrow's potentially their last chance.

Nagi Rokuya: OH... I pray for the village's safety.

Momo: You've got this! I only have eyes for you!!!

Yuki: For me?

Momo: You too, of course! 

To be continued...

[robininthelabyrinth]

Meng Yao manages to follow Nie Mingjue after the whole torture incident and it results in sad frantic banging where Mingjue is actually at a physical disadvantage and they both know it.

ao3

Meng Yao didn’t know why he was here.

It was dangerous, approaching Nie Mingjue now – the man had very nearly killed him in the hall of the Sun Palace just the day before, life-debt or no life-debt from saving him from Wen Ruohan, and it was only Lan Xichen’s timely intervention that had stopped him from killing Meng Yao and then himself. To come here to his rooms now, in the late evening, when Lan Xichen was asleep and could not act as a shield was unbelievely stupid.

It was also pointless.

There was nothing more he needed from Nie Mingjue: he had already achieved all of his desires, his father having promised him a new name, the private ceremony welcoming him into the Jin family scheduled for the week’s end, and he had already traded the life-debt Nie Mingjue owed him for the man’s agreement to swear brotherhood with him – that ceremony, too, would be in only a few days, following right after the one with his family, but public, their oaths to each other be sworn for all to see.

Meng Yao had no illusions that Nie Mingjue’s agreement meant forgiveness, or even fondness – he hadn't yielded at all to Lan Xichen's excited suggestion, and Meng Yao had been forced to 'graciously' offer up that life-debt when he really would've preferred to keep it in reserve for a later time – but it didn’t matter; the man was honorable, painfully so, and having given his word he would fulfill his oath in the spirit in which it was meant. Having Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen as his backing would give Meng Yao the foundation he needed to be secure in Lanling City, to make himself valuable enough so that his father wouldn’t have him conveniently murdered the second they were out of sight.

So, being as coming here was stupid, pointless, and dangerous – why was he here, lingering outside Nie Mingjue’s door in restless anticipation?

Before he could talk himself into leaving, the door abruptly jerked open, and Nie Mingjue’s tall form filled the entranceway.

“Either come inside or don’t,” Nie Mingjue said, voice harsh as always. “Lack of resolve was never one of your faults.”

Implying, of course, that Meng Yao had others. Which he supposed was fair – he had many.

He followed Nie Mingjue into the room he had been given.

A few lanterns still burned, their light low but enough; the table was messy with papers, suggesting that Nie Mingjue had fallen back on the bad habits of cannibalizing his sleep to carve out sufficient time to run his sect. It was such a familiar sight that Meng Yao briefly felt the urge to go and arrange the papers, to gently scold Nie Mingjue for letting them, and him, get in such a state…but of course such inclinations were mere nostalgia, as demonstrated by the way Nie Mingjue swept the papers away into a box. Nie Mingjue would not allow Meng Yao to touch his sect’s secrets now.

Meng Yao was no longer Nie Mingjue’s trusted deputy, nor his friend or even his lover – not even, yet, his sworn brother. He had no role here, no purpose here.

And yet it seemed that Nie Mingjue was not surprised to see him there.

He finished arranging the papers, closing the box, and then started to remove his clothing.

Meng Yao started, surprised.

“What?” Nie Mingjue asked over his shoulder. “Don’t pretend that this isn’t why you’re here.”

Meng Yao supposed he deserved that.

The last time they had been intimate was before he had departed the Nie sect’s base camp at Hejian, heading towards Langya – or perhaps more accurately, that had been the last time they had had sex. There was a certain intimacy in the way Nie Mingjue had rushed to save him, even after he had seen him murder a man in cold blood; an intimacy in the way Meng Yao had used the affection of the lover he had had to work hard to coax into bed despite his reservations to his own advantage, to cut off his spiritual energy using the same technique Nie Mingjue had himself taught him in order to protect himself from any among the armies he led – many of them imperfect men, Nie Mingjue conceded, but war against a larger, more well-armed foe was not a time when they could afford to be picky – that might think themselves permitted to take liberties.

There was intimacy, too, in their interaction in the Nightless City just the day before, when Meng Yao’s hands had run across Baxia in implicit threat, knowing that he was verbalizing his lover’s worst fears, the ones that tormented him in his darkest nightmares.

He had come here –

Yes, he supposed he had come here for this.

Nie Mingjue’s body had always been beautiful to him, strong and powerful – muscles meant for use rather than show, skin and sinews toughed by the power of his shining golden core, cultivation so strong that Meng Yao sometimes imagined he could feel the very heat of it radiating out of him. It had always been a thing of wonder to him that Nie Mingjue entrusted him with his body, that he let him have whatever control he wanted in order to feel safe – and Meng Yao craved control, craved power, with the endless greed of a man who would never be satisfied.

It was still beautiful now, even – as it was.

There was a bruise in the center of Nie Mingjue’s chest, still purple; Meng Yao did not need to measure it to know that it matched the size of Wen Ruohan’s foot, from when he had stepped on him, crushing him to the floor, the mark burned in deeper over the mark of Wen Ruohan’s fist – perhaps somewhere in that mess of tortured flesh there was even the mark of his own foot, which had first kicked Nie Mingjue down. There was a cut on his collarbone from where he had been hit by one of the pieces of the sword Meng Yao had tried to stab him with, which Nie Mingjue had shattered in the nick of time; all up and down his torso there were the marks of how Wen Ruohan had dragged him across the floor of the throne room.

Beneath those injuries, there were still more.

The marks of Yangquan: the frenzied battle fought to a loss, Wen cultivators throwing away their lives by the dozen to bring Nie Mingjue down alive. The transit back to the Nightless City afterwards, with Nie Mingjue bound and gagged and blindfolded, a helpless prisoner for any of the survivors to abuse as they would – Wen Ruohan had pretended to be above it all, both as they traveled and in the throne room, but Meng Yao had been his right hand; he had seen his erstwhile master disappear late in the night, only to return with blood on his hands, radiating satisfaction, and he had known the blood was Nie Mingjue’s.

The Sun Palace had only been the day before.

Even with Nie Mingjue’s strength, he would be a long time healing these wounds – and his strength was nowhere in evidence, still exhausted from the battle, from his rage, from everything that had happened. His bright and shining golden core was dull from strain and over-use; Nie Mingjue had used reserves that should not be touched to fight Wen Ruohan, drawing recklessly upon his future life, undoubtedly thinking that if he didn’t act at that time then he wouldn’t ever get a chance.

He was as weak now as he had been on that day in the battlefield in Langya, when Meng Yao had sealed his spiritual energy and frozen his body, when he had left him behind, left him kneeling there, utterly helpless before any enemy that might have found him.

Meng Yao had never found him more beautiful.

“Do as you will,” Nie Mingjue said once he was naked, even though Meng Yao was not – Meng Yao had liked that, before; he’d liked having Nie Mingjue unclothed and vulnerable before him while he remained garbed. It’d been a game they’d played.

This wasn’t a game.

Meng Yao stepped forward and reached out a hand, and Nie Mingjue did nothing to stop him. Might not be able to do anything to stop him, even if he wanted to. Maybe he did.

His hand hovered above the dark bruise in the center of Nie Mingjue’s chest, not yet touching. If he did, it would hurt.

“Are you sure?” he asked. He didn’t know why he asked it – Nie Mingjue had been the one to start this. And yet…

“Do it or don’t,” Nie Mingjue said, and his words could almost be said to be indifferent if it wasn’t for the agonizing pain apparent beneath them. Lack of resolve was never one of your faults.

Meng Yao suddenly became aware of a sudden feeling in his chest: that there was a choice ahead of him, but he couldn’t see what the options were. Couldn’t use his logical brain to decide between them, to coldly weigh the options both good and bad, the gains and the losses – he didn’t even know what the choice was, only that whatever that choice was, it was why he had come here tonight.

He let his hand touch Nie Mingjue’s chest.

The bruise was hot under his palm. Boiling blood, running through Nie Mingjue’s body – he’d choked on it during the battle, coughing it up in spurts.

The Sun Palace had been only the day before.

Meng Yao wondered if he would still taste the blood when he kissed him.

He didn’t get a chance to find out until the very end. Nie Mingjue allowed him to do as he liked to him, allowed him to touch him and move him, to fuck him and be fucked by him; he didn’t close his eyes once the entire time, and even when Meng Yao put him on his hands and knees to get away from that too-intense gaze, he only turned to regard him over his shoulder – but he didn’t lean forward to kiss him, not once, even though that had always been the thing that Meng Yao had always let Nie Mingjue take the lead on.

It was only at the very end, when they were both drained, that Nie Mingjue rolled over and leaned down and kissed him.

It was a softer kiss than Meng Yao had been expecting.

Maybe if it had been earlier it would have been different: more teeth, more passion, wet and sticky and filthy. Love and hate, rolled up into one.

This was gentle. A press of Nie Mingjue’s lips to his, neither questioning nor demanding – a stolen breath shared between them.

And then Nie Mingjue pulled away.

“I’ll see you at the ceremony at the end of the week,” he said, and got out of bed, starting to dress himself.

Meng Yao rolled over and looked at him, the ruined body that was so damaged that he had been unable to leave any further marks disappearing underneath clothing that left him looking as composed as he’d ever been. The cuts from the injuries to his head were hidden by his hairline, and the rest – torn lips, bruised cheek, marks on his neck in the shape of fingers – were easily overlooked as the unfortunate sequelae of battle and little more.

“Mingjue-xiong,” he said, a closeness he'd only allowed himself to use when it was just the two of them. He did not know what he meant to say after that.

Nie Mingjue didn’t stop. He always used to stop when Meng Yao said his name like that, intimate; he would always look a little soft, a little vulnerable – he would always listen intently.

He wasn’t listening now.

He was getting dressed, and once dressed, he picked up his box of papers and his saber and he slipped out of the room without a word, as if he’d been the one who had come to Meng Yao’s room rather than the other way around.

At the end of the week, Meng Yao got the name he’d always wanted, the sworn brotherhood oath he’d schemed for, the position in the Jin family that had been the pinnacle of his ambitions.

Nie Mingjue’s gaze went straight through him.

There hadn’t been a choice after all, he realized. By the time they got to that night, the choice had already been made.

It had only ever been a goodbye.

[mochegato]

Shut Up and Dance

“Gotta keep your eyes on me,” Ladybug taunted as she launched herself at Red X.

“Not a problem, Pixie,” he answered quickly, jumping just out of her reach so her fingers only grazed his sides.  But, while they missed his body, they were close enough to grab his cape and yank.  He yelped as he fell backwards towards her.  He recovered enough at the last second to kick back, forcing her to jump away to avoid him.

“You sure?  Because you’re looking around an awful lot for someone who has no problem keeping their eyes on me.”  She smirked at him.

He examined his partially ripped off cape and looked back at her.  If she could see his disappointed glare, he was sure she would feel at least a little guilty.  “Just making sure we were alone.”  He jumped to deliver a roundhouse kick that she easily dodged by leaning back into a back flip.

“Why?  You embarrassed to get your ass kicked in front of others?”  She gave him a fake sympathetic look.

“Naw, I’m always looking to show off my moves.”

“I can’t wait to see how you dance.” She swiped at his leg to knock him off balance.  She followed up with a kick to his chest, but the kick was just short of enough force to knock him off the roof without his grappling hook.

He landed in a fighting stance.  He warily eyed the ground from the skyscraper they were on, that he almost fell off of.  He’d survive it, probably, but she had no way of knowing that and it would take more resources than he wanted to use.  Thankfully, she hadn’t actually knocked him over.  She was damn close though.  If she had just moved her leg a fraction faster, she would have done it.  And she could do it too.  He’s been watching her… for research on his enemies... and she could definitely move faster.  He suddenly cocked his head to the side.   After a second he straightened up, his arms relaxed at his side.  “You’re holding back.”

She furrowed her brow and jumped at him.  “Shut up and dance.”  

Her feet connected with his chest.  The force from the impact knocked him to the side, away from the edge he had almost fallen over before.  It had definitely cracked at least two ribs and breathing was already a bit harder, but he could tell she was pulling it.  “Why are you holding back?”

“What makes you think I am?” she asked while throwing a punch he was able to easily deflect.

He trapped her arm between his arm and his chest.  “I’ve studied you.  You can fight better than this.”

“So you’ve been watching me for a while,” she smirked at him before twirling quickly to elbow him in the neck.  He instantly released her.  His hands flew up to his throat as he gasped for breath.

As soon as he was able to catch his breath, he faced back toward her.  “I study all my… enemies.”  The last word came out awkwardly.

She raised an eyebrow at him.  “Is that what we are?”  She gave him a condescending smile and shrugged.  “Maybe I don’t think you’re that much of a threat.”

Red X let out an offended scoff.  “I think you’ve forgotten who the villain is here.”

“Villain,” she scoffed back.  “I’ve fought megalomaniacs who tortured babies and turned them into weapons to terrorize millions of people.”

“What the fuck,” he sputtered, rising out of his fighting stance.

“So, you’ll understand how someone stealing secrets from corrupt corporations doesn’t inspire my need to cause more damage than necessary to stop you, like say killing you, even if their entire goal in life appears to be to embarrass me and my team.”

He stared at her uncertain how to react to that so he went with his default; deflect.  He launched at her.  He looked down as he moved.  Ladybug jumped to flip over him, but he straightened up and caught her arms instead. He slammed her into the wall, pinning her hands above her head.  “Don’t let the other Titans hear you being soft on me,” he said thickly.

She groaned in annoyance.  “Can’t believe I fell for that.”  She banged her head lightly against the wall and gave him an annoyed glare. “Bold of you to assume they haven’t heard this entire conversation, and they aren’t on their way now.”

He looked her up and down and hummed in appreciation. “Thanks for the warning.  Guess we better wrap this up then.  I’m leaving.  You going to finally put effort into this?”

“Make no mistake, if I wasn’t holding back?  You’d be splattered all over that building over there.”  She nodded toward a skyscraper a few miles away.  “But don’t worry.  I’ll put in enough effort to impress you.”

“I’d love to see it, Cupcake.  But later.”  He ripped off the rest of his cape off and threw it in her face as he pushed off against her and rushed toward the edge of the building.

Did he really think she didn’t know how to get out from under fabric that had fallen on her?  That was her specialty.  She ripped the cape off in 1.7 seconds flat.  “Does that mean we won’t be dancing, Sweetheart?” she asked as she threw her yoyo at him.  The yoyo wrapped around him, pinning his arms at his sides and tying his legs together. He fell with an inelegant thud. “Shame.  I was looking forward to it.”  She gave him a mock pout.

“Not today, Pixie.”  He worked his hands slowly up to his belt as he spoke.  He angled his head to look up at her.  “And you’re wrong, I’ve never tried to embarrass you.”  He pushed the switch on his belt, allowing him to teleport out of her yoyo string and disappear.

Ladybug cursed under her breath.  Clearly not enough effort after all.  She had just started to pull her yoyo back when the rest of the Titans arrived.

“Red X?” Robin growled.

“Can teleport, so that’s good to know,” Ladybug noted with a hint of annoyance.  “Note for future interactions, don’t let him touch his belt buckle.”

“Planning on interacting with him in the future, are you?” Beast Boy asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Ladybug narrowed her eyes at him and grabbed his discarded cape as she turned to get on the jet.  “Hopefully,” she whispered just loud enough for her own ears.

<><><><><> 

“Well look at that.  It’s our friendly neighborhood Red Hood.  Except you’re not so friendly, are you?” Ladybug observed mockingly with a pout as she landed in front of Red Hood, blocking his path forward.

“Oh, I’m more than willing to be friendly to you,” he waggled his eyebrows at her, which admittedly would have been more effective without the helmet.

She cocked her head to the side and raised an amused eyebrow at him.  “And I don’t really live in this neighborhood either,” she noted casually.  “And, you know, I never did ask, why do you call yourself Red Hood if you don’t have a hood?”

Red Hood made a facial expression she couldn’t see under his helmet, but his pause and cocked head let her know he was thinking about his answer.  “The Joker used to call himself the Red Hood.”

Ladybug stopped and stared at him.  “Why would you call yourself after the Joker?”

“Because I took it away from him.  I’m planning on taking so many things away from him, but the name is just the first.  It’s my name now.  It doesn’t represent him anymore.  When people think of Red Hood, they think of me, not him,” Red Hood announced.  His voice was fragile and determined at the same time.

“Razing his legacy to the ground.  Nice.”  She nodded in understanding.  Her eyes softened at him for a few moments before sharpening again.  “But, I can’t let you do this.”

“You can’t stop me,” Red Hood scoffed.

“That sounds like a challenge.”  She cricked her neck to the side to stretch.  “Something you should know about me, I am extremely competitive.”

Red Hood let out an annoyed sigh and got into a fighting position.  “Something you should know about me, I don’t back down from a fight.”

“It’s only backing down if there’s already a fight. There doesn’t have to be,” she said softly, her eyes almost pleading.

“If you’re standing between me and him, there does.” His eyes had taken on a harsh edge, determined and cold.

“I can’t let you go in there.  You won’t survive.  I know you’re good, but there’s more going on in there than you know.”

“Oh Pixie, I have moves you haven’t even seen yet.”

Ladybug’s brow furrowed at him.  “You don’t get to call me that.”

“Special name, is it?”  His voice was mocking, but there was something more behind it that Ladybug couldn’t quite define.

She scowled at him and started swinging her yoyo around. “You know what, show me.  Show me your moves.  Show me I’m wrong.”

“Or we can do it together,” he offered.  He relaxed his pose slightly to show her he was sincere. “Come on, working as partners to take out the Joker.  Think of how many people it would help.  Think how much better Gotham would be with him gone.  And we could do it… together.”

Ladybug stared at him contemplatively for a few seconds.  Red Hood’s heart started racing.  She was considering it, they could work together to clean up Gotham’s streets. His hope was short-lived.  It died as soon as she shook her head.  “I won’t mourn the death of the Joker, but I can’t. I just… I can’t go in intending to kill.”

“Fine,” he huffed and settled back into his fight stance.  “Let’s do this.”

Ladybug pursed her lips and pulled her yoyo out. She swung it around in preparation. “That’s cheating, don’t you think?” he deadpanned.

“Oh?” she raised an eyebrow at him.  “You think they’re not going to use weapons?”  He cocked his head to the side and stared at her. “Fiiiine,” she groaned.  “Keep your eyes on me.”  She made a show of reeling her yoyo back in and placing it on the half wall running around the roof.  “Happy now, you big baby?”

“Ecstatic,” Red Hood nodded.  He launched at her, reaching out at the same time to grab her around the midsection.  She jumped over his arm, landing in a summersault.  He moved to kick her in the chest, but she bent back twisting just under his leg; the advantages of fighting a significantly bigger opponent. She could dodge his kicks without much effort.  It was harder for him to kick low enough to make it difficult for her to dodge.

She elbowed him from behind, catching him in his side. He grunted and elbowed her back, catching her in the back of the head; the disadvantage of fighting a significantly bigger opponent.  If they were closer in size, it would have hit her shoulder instead of her head. She fell forward from the impact, but kicked back as she fell, catching the back of his knee.  She turned and waited for him to stand and face her again.

“You’re holding back,” he tutted, a smirk on his lips she couldn’t see.

“You’re the one that said you had new moves,” she shrugged.

“So?”

“So, shut up and dance,” she grunted as she lunged at him. He easily sidestepped her, twisting as he moved so he was facing her back.  He kicked at her, intending to send her sprawling on the ground, but she twisted at the last second and shoved his leg hard enough to set him off balance.

She kicked him in the back of the helmet hard enough to knock him off center.  She jumped on his shoulders and threw herself back, twisting and squeezing as she did, bringing him down with her.  She summersaulted off of him as soon as she touched ground.  He jumped back up and punched before his feet landed.  She braced against the hit, redirecting it, but he grabbed her hand instead and used it to twist her arm behind her.  She twisted with the arm and swung her other arm wildly attempting to connect with his chin, but he grabbed it too.  He wrapped both arms in front of her, trapping her against his chest.  He lowered his head to whisper into her ear.  “Not the kind of dancing I’d like to do with you, gotta be honest.”

She turned her head just enough to look at him.  The helmet made it impossible to tell if he was teasing her or if he meant it, or if it was both.  She furrowed her brow and reeled her head back to head-butt him. She braced herself for the impact, vaguely wondering how well her magic would protect her head against slamming into the helmet designed to withstand getting shot.  But before she could make contact they felt a rumble below them. Red Hood let go of her to let them both brace themselves.

She stumbled over to the edge of the building so she could look over the side.  She let out a surprised cry as the wall started collapsing on itself.  She didn’t have time to move before the ground she was standing on followed suit, crumbling down at the loss of support. She scrambled to get above the wreckage, but couldn’t get above it.  She reached for her yoyo and let out a frustrated groan as the realization that she had set it on the other side of the roof earlier set in.

Red Hood staggered toward her, but fell backward as his side of the building started to collapse too.  He grabbed his grappling hook and tried to run toward where Ladybug had fallen, grabbing her yoyo as he ran, but the ground fell through under him and the grappling hook fell away somewhere.  He crashed through the roof, landing two floors down with an unceremonious thump.  He groaned and tried to push himself back up.  He rubbed the spot where he had landed on the yoyo.  That bruise was going to last for weeks.

He pocketed the yoyo and limped to the window to assess the damage.  His heart stuttered at the sight.  The side of the building Ladybug had been on was completely destroyed and he couldn’t see any sign of her.  He moved to a different window and looked again.  He felt an ice cold blast surge through his veins.  The Joker’s henchmen had dragged her out of the wreckage and were dragging her to a waiting van.

“Son of a b…” Red Hood ran toward the stairs only to find them gone.  “Oh, fuck you,” he grumbled.  He ran back to the window and gauged the fall.  He was eight stories up.  He couldn’t just make that fall.  He pulled out the yoyo and examined it.  It was essentially a magic grappling hook, right?  He threw it out and gaped when it hooked on a roof a block away.  He gave an experimental tug and let out a surprised scream when it pulled him in toward the connection point and momentum allowed him to continue, sending him in an arc that lasted another half a block before he started to fall.

He quickly tugged on the yoyo again, already seeing where this was going; if he didn’t get another connection point quick he was going to hit the ground at a deadly velocity.  The yoyo retracted quickly.  He threw it again and vowed to never return it to Ladybug.  It was a hundred times better than a grappling hook.  He felt like Spiderman.  He looked for the van and was finally able to spot it a few blocks ahead.  It was only outpacing him by a little.  At this rate, he should be able to at least keep eyes on them even if he couldn’t keep up.

He was proved right when the van pulled into a warehouse about twenty minutes later.  He took a breath and sent a message to Dick, the first message he’d sent him in over five years.  ‘You might want to check your little bird’s tracker.  Joker’s not going to wait until you finally realize she’s gone before he starts torturing her.’  Dick might not recognize the number, but he would check.  That should be enough to tell him he needed to act.

Red Hood took his guns off safety in preparation. He wound up the yoyo again and threw it at the warehouse above the window he’d chosen to crash through.  He flew through the air and braced to crash through the glass.  He landed on a metal walkway near Joker who was holding a rope with a barely conscious Ladybug tied up on the other end, hovering above a vat of acid.

“Oh come on.  You couldn’t have given me five more minutes to get this set up?  That’s the problem with you new rogues, no patience. No respect for your superiors,” the Joker chastised him.

Red Hood scoffed.  “The only thing you’re superior to is Egghead and that’s only because your puns aren’t egg related.”

The Joker growled at him.  “Well, Red Hood, it seems like you have a choice to make don’t you? Because if you shoot me, I drop the rope and she dies.  You get closer to me, I drop the rope and she dies.  The only way to save her is to grab her,” he gave him a mock sympathetic pout, “but then you don’t get to shoot me.”  He shrugged emotionlessly, letting Ladybug’s rope slip down a bit as he did.  “But then again, maybe you’d get the shot off.  I don’t know Robin, how good is your aim?

“So,” he continued without waiting for Red Hood to answer, “what are you going to choose?  Well, I say choose.  It isn’t much of a choice is it?  If you kill me, you not only get me dead, you get to be directly responsible for the death of one of Batman’s little birds.  You get to hurt the big, bad Bat in a way nobody else can.  And let’s be honest, that’s the real prize isn’t it?  Hurting the Bat.”

Red Hood growled at him, but waited where he was. If they could hold out for Batman to get there, one of his little sidekicks could save her and he could get the Joker.  He tightened and loosened his grip on the yoyo, trying to come up with contingency plans. He couldn’t let the Joker get away. He was right there.  He was so close he could almost smell his bad breath. He couldn’t just let him get away.

The Joker suddenly groaned in frustration and hummed as if in thought.  “I’m already bored of this.  Time to make your decision.”  He let go of the rope and backed away, a malicious look in his eyes.  His mouth widened into a revolting smile as he waited for Red Hood to act.  He frowned and let out a disappointed snarl when Red Hood immediately threw out the yoyo and dove for Ladybug.  He caught her a few inches above the acid.

They crashed onto the metal walkway on the other side. Red Hood checked to see where the Joker was, but he had escaped during the rescue.  Red Hood growled, but focused back on Ladybug and started checking her over for injuries and freeing her from the ropes.  Ladybug let him check her over, focusing on staying awake. She tried to bring her hand to her head, but it dropped midway there falling on her chest instead.  “Easy there, tiger.  Don’t know how you managed to get a concussion in your magic suit, but I think it’s a pretty safe assumption that’s what you got.  Little worried about what happens when you get out of it actually.  Make sure you’re careful when you take it off.”

Ladybug stared at him intently, or as intently as she could.  Finally speaking after he had removed the last of the ropes.  “Why did you choose me?”

“I’ll always choose you,” he said gently.  He brushed her hair out of her eyes and cupped her face. He stared into her eyes for a few seconds before looking away.  “You said that to me before, you know.”

“What?” she asked hazily.  She leaned into his touch more than she probably should considering he was their enemy.

“Shut up and dance,” he elaborated as he lightly traced her jaw.  “You said that to me once before, Pixie.”

She froze at his words, suddenly considerably more awake. There was only one person she’d said that to.  The same person who called her Pixie.  “Red X?” she breathed out, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the bats and police arriving on the scene.

He cocked his head to the side marginally and started backing away from her, but kept his eyes on her until the sounds were coming from the next room.  He gave her a two finger salute and jumped through the window.  She watched the spot frozen.  It was Red X.  Red X became Red Hood.  Was that comforting?  Or terrifying?  She laid her head back down to let it rest and smiled as she closed her eyes.  One thing was for certain, he was alive, which is more than she knew five minutes ago.

<><><><><> 

This was exactly what Marinette needed.  She could admit that, even if it meant admitting Alya was right, which she was loathe to do considering she had teamed up with Artemis and Cissie to trick Marinette into it.  But feeling the rhythm of the salsa that was almost finished and the eyes of the ungodly handsome man that had asked her to dance immediately after getting to the club and the several drinks the four of them had before going out, she couldn’t deny how good it all felt.

Even the depraved jerks that had just tried to feel her up could ruin her night.  She kneed one in the balls and Hot Dance Partner… she should maybe find out his name, but then again, she didn’t plan on seeing him again once they left this club… had glared the other man into running away with his tail tucked firmly between his legs.

Even after the two had disappeared, he continued to glare after them.  “Hey,” she whispered.  She cupped his cheek to redirect his face back to her.  “Ignore them.  I came here to dance.  Just keep your eyes on me.”

His eyes immediately snapped to hers.  He smiled at her.  “My pleasure, Pixie.”

She cocked her head to the side for a second and gave him a strange look until another dancer bumped into her, knocking her out of her stupor.  She gave him a hesitant smile and a nod before she started dancing with him again. She twirled away from him and grabbed his hand to twirl back into him.  He guided her through a few more turns until the end of the song.  He dipped her into a low dip, but her body was stiff, like she was unsure about him.

“You’re holding back,” he chuckled.  She stared at him with curiosity that turned into surprise when he pulled her back up, her face close enough to feel his breath.  “This is where you tell me shut up and dance,” he whispered to her.

“What?”  She looked up at him wide eyed.

He smirked at her.  “That’s what you usually tell me.”

Her eyes darted over his face.  Her hand reached up to touch his uncovered face.  Her fingers traced his cheekbones before moving lightly along his jaw.  “Red X,” she whispered out.  “It’s you.”

“Not anymore,” he whispered back.  He cradled her face.  He’d seen her out of costume from a distance before, but this was his first time seeing her civilian self out of costume up close.  The first time she’d let him get this close.  He really had no idea how she was going to react now that she knew who he was, so if this was the last time he’d have the opportunity, he was going to take it.   He was going to relish finally being able to feel her skin free from gloves, feel how soft her skin felt, how his fingers tingled after each touch.  

“Red Hood,” she said a bit more gravitas in her voice. She swiped her thumb over his lips. It was the first time she’d seen them. They were as soft as she had always imagined they would be.

He looked at her for a few seconds.  “Not right now.”

“And who are you right now?”

“Jason Todd.”  He took a breath before continuing.  “And you’re Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Her eyes widened in surprise.  She should have figured out he knew who she was considering everything he had said so far, but she had been too caught up in seeing his face for the first time to connect those dots.  “How did you know?”

“Because of your affiliation with Bruce,” he admitted. “I think I can count on one hand the number of people in his life that aren’t associated with this life in some way.”

“How did you…”  She moved away from him, her expression morphing into a hurt scowl.  “So this is your way to get back at him?  By seducing and betraying one of his allies?”

“No, this isn’t about him.  This has nothing to do with him.”  She scoffed at the apparent lie.  “I think this might be one of the few things in my life that has nothing to do with him,” he growled.  He moved closer to her again.  “This is just for me.  I want you just for me.”  

He rested his hands back on her hips, waiting to see how she reacted.  When she didn’t pull away, he pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her and keeping her close with a grip strong enough to hold her in place, but not keep her there if she didn’t want to stay.  “And I promise you, if you give me a chance, I’ll never betray you.”

She shook her head unsure.  “Why?  If not to stick it to Bruce, why?”

“Have you really not noticed?”  His voice was gentle as he searched her eyes.  “I’ve been watching you since before you started working with Bruce, since the Teen Titan days.  Since the first time I saw you.”

“Why?  I need to know why.”  She was searching his eyes almost desperately.

He sighed and lowered his forehead to hers.  “Because you’re good.  Because you’re kind.  Because you’re strong and fierce.  Because you’re brave.  Because you genuinely want to help, but don’t get stuck on rigid right or wrong. Things aren’t wrong because they’re illegal.  They’re wrong if they hurt people.  Because you look at the big picture, but don’t forget about the details.  Most heroes can’t do that.  They focus on one or the other, but you keep your eye on both.”

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, slowly kissing each knuckle and looking at her from under his lashes.  “Because you’re beautiful and graceful.  Because your smile blinds me.  Because even when I was your enemy, you still treated me with respect, you still saw me.  Because that’s who you are.”

“You forgot funny.”  He looked at her questioningly.  “I’m funny too.”  She smirked at him.  “I’m hilarious.”

He grinned at her and brushed a strand of hair over her shoulder before returning his hand around her waist.  “I’d really love to find out for myself.”

She looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You once told me you have amazing dance moves.”

“Yes?”

“So… shut up and dance,” she whispered next to his lips. He grinned and pushed down to kiss her, but she moved just out of his range.  She smiled up at him and giggled.  She pulled his arm back toward the music, swaying her hips to the beat as she walked.  He growled lightly and pulled her back against him and moved his hips in rhythm with hers.  He wrapped his arms around her to keep as much contact between them as possible as they danced.

He lowered his head to run his nose along her neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.  She moaned lightly and reached up behind her to wrap her arms around his neck. He took advantage of the newly exposed skin to run his hands over her sides.

She ran her hands into his hair and he was gone.  He turned her around and leaned down until his lips were a few centimeters away from hers.  “May I?”  His voice was husky and deep like he was barely able to stop himself but would if she asked and the sound alone was enough to cause shivers up and down her spine. She nodded and pushed up to close the gap.

Their lips slid against each other in an electric symphony. She could feel the current all the way down to her toes.  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders for support when her knees suddenly weren’t strong enough to support her any longer.  He wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her closer.  His other hand cupped her face, his fingers wound into her hair.  The symphony continued until they reluctantly pulled away, gasping for breath.

“Why don’t we move this somewhere else?” he whispered into her ear.

She shivered from the sensation of his breath against her neck and ear.  She looked up at him and bit her lip shyly.  She examined his eyes for a second before nodding.  

Jason beamed back at her, relief and excitement pushing through.  He wrapped his arm protectively around her waist as he guided her out of the club.

<><><><><> 

The roses were in full bloom and their fragrance drifted across the garden with the breeze.  It was almost like Marinette had planned it that way, made sure the roses bloomed in full force the day before and invited the breeze to gently blow as they gathered.  And maybe she had.  She did have miniature gods at her disposal.  But then again, they could have done it on their own to make her day perfect.  God knows she deserved it, not only for all she does for everyone around her, but for being able to deal with him.  And she agreed to be with him until death.  She deserved a goddamned parade in celebration of her patience and determination.

Jason smiled down at Marinette as she laughed and gushed with their best friends, a mix of Parisian and American heroes, vigilantes, and antiheroes.  He ran his fingers over her back, exposed in her white, backless dress.  He would never not relish the sensation of feeling her skin with his after years of only touching her with gloves on.  He would never not relish the small, intimate, delicate touches after the years of punches and strikes and kicks.  And while he did enjoy sparring with her, he lived for these touches, the touches only he was allowed, the touches she only wanted him to feel.

He chuckled as her friends pulled her onto the dancefloor with them.  She leaned close to him and whispered, “Keep your eyes on me.”

“Nothing else I’d rather watch,” he whispered back. He gave her a chaste peck on the lips before she disappeared.  

He watched her in a peaceful quiet for a few moments before he felt a pat on his shoulder.  “You look happy, Jaylad.  I’m happy for you.”  Bruce stood next to him and watched the group dancing rather than looking in Jason’s eyes. “And… I’m proud of you, Jason.”

Jason scoffed.  “Managing to get someone like her to look at me, let alone marry me is definitely deserving of praise.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed slightly but he quickly smoothed it out.  “I wasn’t talking about this.  You… It took a lot of strength to decide to change, to not let it consume you.  You were always stronger than me like that.” A ghost of a smile passed onto his lips. “But yeah, you did good today.”

Jason turned to stare at him, unsure how to respond. He was saved from having to respond by Marinette bouncing over and collapsing into Jason and wrapping her arms around his waist.  “Hey, Love. How are you doing?”

Bruce smiled at her and kissed her on the cheek. “Congratulations again to you both.” He gave them one last smile before moving back to speak with her parents.

Jason watched him walk away for a second before returning his gaze to Marinette.  A bright smile made its way onto his face and he wrapped an arm around her waist.  With his other hand, he traced the edge of her face with his fingers.  “Did I ever tell you I knew we were bound to be together the first time I saw you?”

Marinette scoffed.  “The first time you saw me you tried to throat punch me.”

Jason shrugged.  “It was easy to avoid and I knew you would.  I wanted to see you dodge.  Watching you fight is like watching a ballet, but a much more interesting one with blood and black eyes and broken bones.  And I could usually taunt you into a smirk or into getting that playful look in your eyes.  It was worth the bruises.”  He smiled when Marinette let out a peel of poorly concealed laughter.  “You know, some of the break-ins and thefts were just so you would come to fight me.”  

Marinette blinked at him.  “No way.”

“Sometimes I would watch the fights you had with other rogues.”

She gave him a dubious look.  “I think I’d remember seeing Red X watching us.  One of us would have noticed.”

“I’d watch as a civilian and not out in the open, obviously.  Couldn’t have Dick seeing me or Batman when we were in Gotham.  I liked watching you, especially after the fights, after helping someone.  Seeing the way you treated everyone, the way you help.  You’ve always had the biggest heart I’ve ever seen.”

Marinette smiled lovingly at him.  “That’s extremely creepy.  You realize that, right?”

Jason barked out a laugh and pressed his forehead into her neck for a second until he stopped laughing.  “Villain, remember?”  He shrugged.  Marinette rolled her eyes at him.  “You never smiled like that with anyone else.  Your eyes never lit up like that, not even with your teammates.  I could see the future in your eyes.  I knew then it wasn’t just me.  I knew then you were my destiny.”

He stroked her cheek and she nuzzled into his touch. “Those were always my most and least hated fights.  I knew you had a good heart.  I liked playing with you, but I hated hurting you when one of my hits landed.”  She cuddled in closer to him.  “Felt even worse about it after I saw your face.” She grinned up at him and patted his cheek.

Jason gave her a smug smile.  “I would sometimes do it when I knew Dick was out of town so he wouldn’t interfere because I knew he liked to and I wanted to have you all to myself.”

“I knew it!” she exclaimed and slapped his shoulder. “I knew you were doing it when Robin wasn’t around.”  Jason grinned proudly.  Marinette shrugged casually, but her eyes sparkled with mirth.  “I thought it was because you were afraid of Robin.”  Jason gasped dramatically.  “We all did.”

Jason narrowed his eyes playfully.  He leveled a warning finger at her.  “Bullshit and slander.”  Marinette laughed and hugged him closer.  “I take it all back.,” he groused.  “I was wrong about everything.”

“Jason,” she interrupted.

“Yeah, Pixie?”

She pulled him down for a passionate kiss.  They heard a round of cat calls rise up around them and decidedly ignored them. “Shut up and dance with me,” she whispered against his lips.

He grinned down at her.  “Whatever you want, wife.”

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver

[theartofdreaming1]

Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch are slowly becoming a proper team! No more secrets! (for the most part)

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 4-6 are below the cut.

heart

Losing that comfort of sleeping in each other’s arms after the Victory Tour must have been hard for Katniss and Peeta! Up until Katniss hurts her ankle, they probably didn’t really do much about it, just trying to make it through on their own... After she hurt her ankle and Peeta’s spending more time over at her place, I can easily imagine him staying over, at least until she’s fallen asleep, which might help a little... Since they are living only three houses apart from each other, I like to imagine that they can see each other’s bedroom windows from their bedroom (how else would Katniss know that Peeta sleeps with the windows open? I can’t really imagine that they would be able to open the windows of the train they were on - y’know, for “safety reasons” (i.e. making sure nobody can escape)); maybe they’d both light a candle and put it by their window, as a signal they are going to sleep... It’s not the same, but it helps a little 

mind

I mean, aside from the systemic rigging of the reaping system (i.e. poorer people generally having more entries, so they can have some food), I can easily imagine there being a manipulation of the “odds” when someone becomes too vocal or troublesome for the local authorities, such as someone trying to unionize a district’s workforce, for example

soul

In the districts, their impact has to be big - their win alone was a huge defiance of the Games as they used to be... sticking together and sticking up for each other ultimately led to them defeating the Capitol’s rules! In-between the Games and the Victory Tour I don’t think there was much noteworthy going on (although maybe the fact that, so far, none of the new victors’ loved ones had been hurt - Prim, Mrs. E., but also Gale and his family would be visible during the celebrations, I’m sure, same probably goes for the Mellark’s - might tell the people in the district that Snow and his cronies were aware of the attention any assassination attempt would gather and that this, in turn, might actually could become the last straw that would spark a revolution. In a way, that was proof that the people on top were at least a little afraid of what the people in the districts would do...) And then, especially during the visit of D11, with Katniss expressing her thanks and Peeta reaching out to share their winnings with the people from D11, another district than their own - it must have provided a lot of inspiration, I’m sure. 

As for the Capitolites, maybe some of them would notice for once how unhappy/riled up the people in some of the districts were... or at least stop to think about how this time, a show of love and companionship actually provided more “entertainment” and intrigue than the brutal gore and bloodshed from previous Games (also, longer lasting - there is actually much more “story” to be had from the star-crossed lovers from D12 than from any individual winner of previous Games, if you think about it... Their “love story” is still on-going, with an upcoming wedding and the promise of a family... it’s still creepy and voyeuristic as hell, though)

Chapter 4

Everything he [Haymitch] said was true about the Capitol’s expectations, my future with Peeta, even his last comment. Of course, I could do a lot worse than Peeta. That isn’t really the point, though, is it? One of the few freedoms we have in District 12 is the right to marry who we want or not marry at all. And now even that has been taken away from me. - God, this sucks so much! As Katniss rightly points out, her misery isn’t about Peeta at all - it’s about her (and also his, just pointing that out) agency being taken away! She’s being stripped even of that little sliver of agency that inhabitants of D12 usually have (choice of whom to marry, or whether to marry at all)

I wonder if President Snow will insist we have children. - Eugh, just the idea of Snow being the one to have the last word on that subject... 🤢 The invasion of privacy here... - The only person who should get to decide whether Katniss should have children or not is Katniss herself! Period!

My mind searches frantically for a way out. I can’t let President Snow condemn me to this. Even if it means taking my own life. Before that, though, I’d try to run away. - Boy, Katniss is even contemplating taking her own life, rather than to submit to the life the Capitol wants to force on her; it’s not her first choice (she’d rather run away), but it shows the desperation she’s feeling

Could I even manage to take everyone I love with me, start a new life deep in the wild? Highly unlikely but not impossible. - Later we will see that Peeta and Haymitch also belong into the category of “people Katniss loves” 😊(as well as her family, Gale, and his fam, of course)

“And Peeta’s team is probably still asleep.” “Doesn’t he need prepping?” I ask. “Not the way you do,” Effie replies. What does this mean? It means I get to spend the morning having the hair ripped off my body while Peeta sleeps in. I hadn’t thought about it much, but in the arena at least some of the boys got to keep their body hair whereas none of the girls did. - Gotta love that everlasting sexism that, even far into the future, still won’t allow women to have frickin’ body hair (y’know, like most humans do 🙄)

I can remember Peeta’s now, as I bathed him by the stream. Very blond in the sunlight, once the mud and blood had been washed away. Only his face remained completely smooth. Not one of the boys grew a beard, and many were old enough to. I wonder what they did to them. - Katniss seems to have committed every single detail about Peeta to her memory, including how his body hair looked when she cleaned him in the last Games... okay 👀😏 On a more somber note, what is it that the Capitol is doing to these poor kids?! The boys couldn’t grow beards and - I’m assuming - the girls wouldn’t get their periods while in the arena (since the Games can last for weeks, it would be a huge disadvantage if any of the girls also had to content with cramps + periods  - aside from worrying about getting murdered, I mean); it’s such a violation of one’s autonomy over one’s own body, yikes

Flavius tilts up my chin and sighs. “It’s a shame Cinna said no alterations on you.” “Yes, we could really make you something special,” says Octavia. “When she’s older,” says Venia almost grimly. “Then he’ll have to let us.” - Eeek, no thanks!😦 And frankly, it really shouldn’t be Cinna’s call to make but, y’know, Katniss’s!!! I don’t know, I get real panick-y just reading this exchange (I have never even gotten my ears pierced - my mom wouldn’t let them be pierced until I could make my own decision on that subject matter and as someone with skin issues and bad experiences with needles, I really don’t feel the need to have any unnecessary metal inserted into my body, so... I’m good)

His [Peeta’s] apology takes me by surprise. It’s true that Peeta froze me out after I confessed that my love for him during the Game was something of an act. But I don’t hold it against him. [...] “I’m sorry, too,” I say. [...] “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. You were keeping us alive.” - That apology of Peeta’s... *chef’s kiss*; it was totally understandable that Peeta was upset and needed some time apart from Katniss after her confession, which had caught him completely by surprise, not even Katniss blames him for that... But his apology shows that he really made use of their time apart to work out his emotions and to reflect on both their situations - that’s some emotional maturity to be envious of! Plus, his apology is a good move to get their communication channel opened up again

It would be nice if he’d come to me with this earlier, before I knew that President Snow had other plans and just being friends was not an option for us anymore. But either way, I’m glad we’re speaking again. - Come on, Katniss, cut this boy some slack! He can’t read minds - how is he supposed to know about these things if you don’t tell him anything? It’s nice that you’re glad that you guys are on speaking terms again, but communication isn’t a one-way street, y’know?

I remember the tiger lily cookie and, now that Peeta is talking to me again, it’s all I can do not to recount the whole story about President Snow. But I know Haymitch wouldn’t want me to. I’d better stick to small talk. - Katniss really should have listened to her instincts here - Haymitch might have a better idea of how the Games/Capitol works, but he knows little about teamwork, which is an important factor in their specific (and unprecedented!) situation; I’m not blaming Katniss for relying on her mentor here, but this entire approach is going to crash and burn in the next chapter

It’s good to feel his fingers entwined with mine again, not for show but in actual friendship. We walk back to the train hand in hand. - Not to say that you can’t have friendships where you frequently hold hands - you totally can - but it is noteworthy that I don’t think I can recall Katniss holding hands with any of her other friends... (somehow, I can’t really picture Katniss holding hands with Gale casually like that... nor with Madge or Finnick later on) 

At the door, I remember, “I’ve got to apologize to Effie first.” “Don’t be afraid to lay it on thick,” Peeta tells me.- There is something about this exchange that speaks to me... maybe because it reads like some sort of an inside joke between them? Or because it shows that, despite being on good terms with Effie, Peeta’s totally aware of how high-maintenance/over the top Effie is... I dunno ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Peeta has painted the Games. Some you wouldn’t get right away, if you hadn’t been with him in the arena yourself. Water dripping through the cracks in our cave. The dry pond bed. [...] Others any viewer would recognize. The golden horn called the Cornucopia. [...] And me. I am everywhere. [...] “What do you think?” he asks. “I hate them,” I say. I can almost smell the blood, the dirt, the unnatural breath of the mutt. - These are the pieces Peeta meant to exhibit in the Capitol, right? I wonder if he hoped that these paintings of his impressions/memories of the Games might actually connect with some Capitolites and might even move them to feel some empathy for the Tributes? Maybe he hoped that they would be more receptive for that kind of thing if he packaged it in art?

“All I do is go around trying to forget the arena and you’ve brought it back to life. How do you remember these things so exactly?” “I see them every night,” he says. [...] “Me too. Does it help? To paint them out?” “I don’t know. I think I’m a little less afraid of going to sleep at night, or I tell myself I am,” he says. “But they haven’t gone anywhere.” - I do wonder, whether and how painting out these moments could have therapeutic value for Peeta - on the one hand, the act of painting out specific intrusions/flashbacks might be helpful because he’d end up focusing on the more technical side of painting, y’know? Focussing on mixing the right shade of a certain color might help create some emotional distance from the moment itself... also, since painting usually takes some time, Peeta would actually spend a considerable amount of time facing these moments head on, rather than trying to avoid them (avoidance tends to increase the frequency of flashback/intrusions) and maybe spending so much time on them could also help him contextualize them within the broader narrative of his life, which is the basic principle behind Narrative Exposure Therapy, which is said to be pretty effective at treating PTSD... just my two cents

I can’t believe the size of District 11. “How many people do you think live here?” Peeta asks. I shake my head. In school they refer to it as a large district, that’s all. No actual figures on the population. - Perfect example of how tightly the Capitol controls the information the people in the districts have about the other districts... which is basically nothing. Let’s keep them in the dark so they are less likely to connect with each other and band together...

Cinna comes in with a pretty orange frock patterned with autumn leaves. I think how much Peeta will like the color. - Lol, Katniss bringing everything back to Peeta because she definitely hasn’t a crush on the guy, I see 😉

And then he [Peeta] hesitates before adding something that wasn’t written on the card. Maybe because he thought Effie might make him remove it. “It can in no way replace your losses, but as a token of our thanks we’d like for each of the tributes’ families from District Eleven to receive one month of our winnings every year for the duration of our lives.” - Peeta, the rebel! Talk about an act of radical kindness! I’m so proud of him. But also, I think this is another excellent example of how he and Katniss are on the same wavelength (this took me some time to find, but here you go): I silently say good-bye to Thresh and thank him for my life. I promise to remember him and, if I can, do something to help his family and Rue’s, if I win. (Ch. 23, THG)

I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch’s voice. “You could do a lot worse.” At this moment, it’s impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift... it is perfect. So when I rise up on tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn’t seem forced at all. - Peeta: does anything that exemplifies his sense of morality; Katniss: *swoons* - but honestly, it is so beautiful how Katniss is so attracted to Peeta’s goodness and kind heart - it also tells us a lot about her (she is quite pure, as Peeta will point out later in this book) and what she values

“Wait, please.” I don’t know how to start, but once I do, the words rush from my lips as if they’ve been forming in the back of my mind for a long time. - And then Katniss launches into one of her spontaneous, heart-felt, and inspiring speeches/acts, expressing her thanks, sympathy, and a sense of kinship with people beyond the borders of her district, beyond the superficial barriers the Capitol has been trying to maintain in order to weaken the ‘common folk‘ and keep the exploitation going

The full impact of what I’ve done hits me. It was not intentional - I only meant to express my thanks - but I have elicited something dangerous. An act of dissent from the people of District 11. - Again, Katniss has done something that will solidify her as a symbol of the revolution without intending to do so and that’s the point, I think - she inspires people through her genuine displays of caring for others (which, in Panem, is already rebellious on its own)

Chapter 5

“We’re going!” says Peeta, shoving the Peacekeeper who’s pressing on me. “We get it, all right? Come on, Katniss.” His arm encircles me and guides me back into the Justice Building. - Protective Peeta! Also, I think it’s interesting to note the wording of Peeta’s arms “encircling” Katniss and then “guiding” her - his arms surround her, and he’s leading her away from harm (at least to the extent that is in his power - can’t really be safe from harm in Panem, can you?), but it doesn’t seem smothering or oppressive  to Katniss in any way -”guide” has more of a connotation of giving direction without force, imo; in contrast, when Katniss talked about her kiss with Gale she mentions she’d never imagined how those hands [...] could as easily entrap me. (Ch. 2, CF); granted, these are two very different situations - the phrasing just stood out to me

“What happened?” Effie hurries over. “We lost the feed just after Katniss’s beautiful speech, and then Haymitch said he thought he heard gun fire, and I said it was ridiculous, but who knows? There are lunatics everywhere!” - Very telling how a clueless Capitolite like Effie wouldn’t register the rebellious aspect of Katniss’s speech; by keeping the Capitolites in the depths of sweet, sweet ignorance while simultaneously harshly trying to curb any spark of rebellion by cutting off the feed, the government is actually drawing the attention of the ignorant Capitolites to the act of rebellion itself (and also letting the people in the districts know that there was something censor-worthy going on); kind of shooting themselves in the foot here

As far as I know, Haymitch has only been here once, when he was on his Victory Tour decades ago. But he must have a remarkable memory or reliable instincts, because he leads us up through a maze of twisting staricases and increasingly narrow halls. [...] Eventually we climb a ladder to a trapdoor. When Haymitch pushes it aside, we find ourselves in the dome of the Justice Building. - I wonder how Haymitch has come to know this part of the Justice Building? Has he been to District 11 more often than Katniss supposes (he is friends with Chaff, after all), did his mentor take him there for some private conversation, or was there a moment during Haymitch’s Victory Tour where he felt so overwhelmed by feelings of guilt and powerlessness that he fled to the most desolate, solitary place he could find?

“I was supposed to fix things on this tour. [...] Calm things down. But obviously, all I’ve done today is get three people killed, and now everyone in the square will be punished.” I feel so sick that I have to sit down on a couch, despite the exposed springs and stuffing. - Obviously, all of this is awful and no one - especially a traumatized, 16-year old girl - should have to suffer carrying such a burden... But also, here we see one of the downsides of Katniss taking sole responsibility for everything - she totally forgot that Peeta might feel responsible too, only that he didn’t even know what’s at stake - which leads us to-

“Then I made things worse, too. By giving the money,” says Peeta. Suddenly he strikes out at a lamp that sits precariously on a crate and knocks it across the room, where it shatters against the floor. “This has to stop. Right now. This - this - game you two play, where you tell each other secrets but keep them from me like I’m too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them.”"It's not like that, Peeta-" I begin. "It's exactly like that!" he yells at me. - When kind, gentle Peeta’s mad, you know shit has hit the fan 😳 But also, being passed over/kept out of the loop seems to hit pretty close to home for Peeta (while I would like to know what his home life looked like before the Games, I have to admit that at this point, I’m somewhat afraid I might not be able to handle the truth...). I just think this scene is an important moment that leads to an end of (most of) their detrimental secrecy (hello end-of-CF-Haymitch!) and establishes their little team as such (hence the drawing)

“You’re always so reliably good, Peeta,” says Haymitch. “So smart about how you present yourself before the cameras. I didn’t want to disrupt that.” “Well, you overestimated me. Because I really screwed up today.” - Remember the last time someone overestimated Peeta (Foxface and the berries)? That ended in someone’s death as well... And, Haymitch? ‘Never assume’ applies to you, too!

“Do you think I gave them [Rue’s and Thresh’s families] a bright future? Because I think they’ll be lucky if they survive the day!” Peeta sends something else flying, a statue. I’ve never seen him like this. - Considering that his rebellious act of kindness is now threatening to become a sword of Damocles, hanging over those towards which he wanted to extend his kindness - simply because he’s been kept out of the loop (again)- Peeta’s anger is quite understandable

“Look, boy-” Haymitch begins. “Don’t bother, Haymitch. I know you had to choose one of us. And I’d have wanted it to be her. But this is something different. People are dead out there. More will follow unless we’re very good.” - Peeta doesn’t really care if it’s just his life on the line, but if other people’s lives are at risk? He takes no shit (it’s admirable in one way and deeply concerning in another); also, Peeta is right - while there still is a game to play, it’s not the Games, so different circumstances and rules apply

“From now on, you’ll be fully informed,” Haymitch promises. “I better be,” says Peeta. - Peeta generally is a very cooperative fellow, but don’t ever think he can’t be forceful and stand his ground when it matters!

“Did you choose me, Haymitch?” I ask. “Yeah,” he says. “Why? You like him better,” I say. “That’s true. But remember, until they changed the rules, I could only hope to get one of you out of there alive,” he says. “I thought since he was determined to protect you, well, between the three of us, we might be able to bring you home.” “Oh,” is all I can think to say. - This is such a quiet, sweet moment and also shows that Katniss, Haymitch and Peeta have been some sort of team from the start (also, in their team effort they actually managed to get the both of them back home!)

Everything is happening too fast for me to process it. The warning, the shootings, the recognition that I may have set something of great consequence in motion. The whole thing is so improbable. And it would be one thing if I had planned to stir things up, but given the circumstances... how on earth did I cause so much trouble? - Lol, you’re giving yourself a little too much credit here, Katniss ;) Frankly, the Capitol has been the one to create this powder-keg they are sitting on in the first place - all it needed was a little spark... All these injustices, the humilitation, the pain inflicted... it’s like an elastic rubber band that’s been stretched and stretched - until it snaps

“I’m something of an expert in architectural design, you know?” “Oh yes, I’ve heard that,” says Portia before the pause gets too long. - Bless Portia’s heart, making sure they avoid that awkward silence 😂

Effie looks so distressed that I spontaneously give her a hug. “That’s awful, Effie. Maybe we shouldn’t go to the dinner at all. At least until they’ve apologized.” - Aww, Katniss doing something nice for Effie!😊

Peeta and I join hands. “Haymitch says I was wrong to yell at you. You were only operating under his instructions,” says Peeta. “And it isn’t as if I haven’t kept things from you in the past.” - Peeta sorta apologizing, even acknowledging that he also had kept secrets from Katniss? We love to see it👍 - [...] “I think I broke a few things myself after that interview.” “Just an urn,” he says. - Peetaaa... stop diminishing your own physical injuries! Good thing that Katniss won’t let him: - “And your hands. There’s no point to it anymore though, is there? Not being straight with each other?” I say. “No point,” says Peeta. - Gasp! Honest, open communication as a good basis for a successful relationship? It’s more likely than you think!

“Was that really the only time you kissed Gale?” I’m so startled I answer. “Yes.” With all that has happened today, has that question actually been preying on him? - Peeta, you sly dog! Your priorities 😂

Some crowds have the weary-cattle feel that I know District 12 usually projects at the victors’ ceremonies. But in others - particularly 8, 4, and 3 - there is genuine elation in the faces of the people at the sight of us, and under the elation, fury. - I do think that it’s interesting how D4 is one of the districts being elated to see Peeta + Katniss and displaying such fury, despite being a Career district; just goes to show that, just because their odds are better at winning the Games, doesn’t have to make them more simpatico with the Capitol’s cruelty... (Considering how Finnick knows how to perform CPR, it’s highly likely that people in D4 are also used to awful and precarious working + living situations... maybe that’s exactly why they generally are so robust and do well in the Games; and maybe they are simply not that above joining the other Careers as long as it improves their chances of survival, like Katniss or Thresh had been... worked for a while for Peeta, too)

Effie starts giving me pills to sleep, but they don’t work. [...] Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. After that, I refuse the pills. But every night I let him into my bed. We manage the darkness as we did in the arena, wrapped in each other’s arms. - 😭 Also: Very telling how Capitolite Effie just throws pills at the problem (with the best of intentions, I’m sure), which is an immediate, unpersonal, and superficial solution at best, whereas Peeta holding Katniss, offering comfort, understanding, a sense of safety, and human connection is so much more personal, intimate, and effective (for both of them!)

I personally killed the girl, Glimmer, and the boy from District 1. As I try to avoid looking at his family, I learn that his name was Marvel. How did I never know that? - You know why, Katniss -  I suppose that before the Games I didn’t pay attention and afterward I didn’t want to know. - Still, not knowing his name didn’t stop you from humanizing him, Katniss, and that’s important, too

Whatever we do seems too little, too late. Back in our old quarters in the Training Center, I’m the one who suggests the public marriage proposal. Peeta agrees to do it but then disappears to his room for a long time. Haymitch tells me to leave him alone. “I thought he wanted it, anyway,” I say. “Not like this,” Haymitch says. “He wanted it to be real.” - Come on, Katniss, don’t be so callous; Peeta’s just as much of a prisoner here as you! Also, it’s all about being real or not real with these two, isn’t it?

Chapter 6

... you would think that at this moment, I would be in utter despair. Here’s what’s strange. The main thing I feel is a sense of relief. That I can give up this game. [...] That if desperate times call for desperate measures, then I am free to act as desperately as I wish. - Honestly, I think it was pretty short-sighted of Snow to let Katniss know so clearly that she didn’t succeed in her task; she did her utmost and it wasn’t enough - might as well fling caution to the wind now. All bets are off. If there had been still some small chance she could have ‘made things right’, she probably would have been trying harder to comply to his expectations. (I’m sure Snow thought the upcoming implementations of his stricter regime would be enough to keep Katniss in check, but pride comes before a fall ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

It’s essential to get back to District 12, because the main part of any plan will include my mother and sister, Gale and his family. And Peeta, If I can get him to come with us. I add Haymitch to the list. - For such a ‘loner’, Katniss sure has a lot of people that are important to her... And how ironic that Peeta, who she isn’t sure she’ll be able to convince in following her will be a much more willing participant that Gale, who Katniss is pretty much banking on joining her

“You’ll probably have to pass a new law,” I say with a giggle. “If that’s what it takes,” says the president with conspiratorial good humor. Oh the fun we two have together. - The dynamic between Snow and Katniss is so strange; despite the obvious antagonism there is definitely some vibe of interacting with each other at eye level and it’s weird (Sidenote: Is there any law in Panem preventing minors from marrying?)

“I want to taste everything in the room, “ I tell Peeta. [...] “Then you’d better pace yourself,” he says. “Okay, not more than one bite of each dish,” I say. My resolve is almost immediately broken at the first table, which has twenty or so soups - couldn’t have happened to me; I hate soup (like, thick soups I maaaybe can get behind, but clear soup/broth is just flavored water to me, no thanks - then again, I’m a picky eater)

Peeta and I make no effort to find company but are constantly sought out. We are what no one wants to miss at the party. I act delighted, but I have zero interest in these Capitol people. They are only distractions from the food. - Well isn’t that a mood for every social gathering ever (one person I enjoy talking to and lots of food I like? Perfect.)

I pick up a small roasted bird, bite into it, and my tongue floods with orange sauce. Delicious. But I make Peeta eat the remainder because I want to keep tasting things - Katniss seems to like the combination of meat and fruit, huh? (the lamb and plums, now bird and orange sauce) Personally, it’s a combination that’s on thin ice for me; there are only a few dishes with that component I actually like and it took me forever to tolerate them (I don’t know if it’s the texture or the taste, but something makes me apprehensive about it); anyway, Katniss making Peeta eat the rest is such a casual, couple-y thing to do (or at least something you do with someone you feel very comfortable with, I think)

Peeta looks at the glass again and puts it together. “You mean this will make me puke?” My prep team laughs hysterically. “Of course, so you can keep eating,” says Octavia. “I’ve been in there twice already. Everyone does it, or else how would you have any fun at a feast?” I’m speechless, staring at the pretty little glasses and all they imply. - Oh boy, I have a lot of thoughts on this part: A) I just noticed how this is the second delicate/fancy glass/drink that’s bringing about a jarring revelation: first that orange juice with the frilly straw in THG, now these tiny wine-stemmed glasses, B) “Everyone does it” + “how else would you have fun?” are the shittiest reasons I’ve ever heard at a party for doing something stupid you probably don’t want to do (I’m having flashbacks to all the times I had people trying to pressure me into drinking alcohol as a teen - it was even legal, btw - although I insisted that I didn’t like the taste (which I still don’t, to this day); it was tiresome 😑), C) “everyone does it” - the people in the Capitol must have some messed up teeth if that’s a regular occurence (sure, they probably bleach their teeth all the time, but also... they’d really need to, D) the obvious: how effed up that they just puke to stuff in more food when in the districts people literally are dying from starvation?! (and yeah, unequal distribution of resources sadly isn’t just a thing in Panem, I know... but there is something about actively purging yourself just for funsies that’s just extra, well, sick)

All I can think of is the emaciated bodies of the children on our kitchen table as my mother prescribes what the parents cannot give. More food. - God, how awful! How powerless they must feel 😟

And here in the Capitol they’re vomiting for the pleasure of filling their bellies again and again. Not from some illness of body or mind, not from spoiled food. - Ooh, I’ve never noticed before how this passage not only recognizes physical reasons for purging, but also mental reasons! Wouldn’t have necessarily expected Katniss to acknowledge eating disorders like that, tbh... She has become a lot more cognizant and sensitive when mental health issues are concerned

One day when I dropped by to give Hazelle the game, Vick was home sick with a bad cough [...] he still spent about fifteen minutes talking about how they’d opened a can of corn syrup from Parcel Day and each had a spoonful on bread and were going to maybe have more later in the week. How Hazelle had said he could have a bit in a cup of tea to soothe his cough, but he wouldln’t feel right unless the others had some, too. - Aww, Vick is such a sweetheart! Hazelle is raising her kids right!

“Peeta, they bring us here to fight to the death for their entertainment,”I say. “Really, this is nothing by comparison.” “I know. I know that. It’s just sometimes I can’t stand it anymore. To the point where... I’m not sure what I’ll do.” He pauses, then whispers, “Maybe we were wrong, Katniss.” “About what?” I ask. “About trying to subdue things in the districts,” he says. - Peeta’s rebellious nature coming through again!

“Sorry,” he says. He should be. This is no place to be voicing such thoughts. “Save it for home,” I tell him. - I know Katniss means D12, but her phrasing of “home” evokes a more domestic, couple-y connotation again 😊

I don’t want to dance with Plutarch Heavensbee. I don’t want to feel his hands, one resting against mine, one on my hip. I’m not used to being touched, except by Peeta or my family, and I rank Gamemakers somewhere below maggots in terms of creatures I want in contact with my skin. - It’s telling that, while Katniss is not big on being touched aside from her family (does that include Gale? probably? although they hadn’t even really hugged until Katniss had been reaped, so... I dunno), she’s totally fine with Peeta touching her (more than that: remember how good she felt holding his hand again in Ch.4 and how she’s feeling safe in his arms when they are sharing a bed), it says a lot about how comfortable she feels around him

Plutarch steps back and pulls out a gold watch on a chain from a vest pocket. He flips open the lid, sees the time, and frowns. “I’ll have to be going soon.” He turns the watch so I can see the face. “It starts at midnight.” - Honestly, this very subtle hint/foreshadowing of the clock setup of the Quarter Quell arena is simply brilliant! And also, midnight is going to become an important point in time as well from here on out (lightning tree, in the hanging tree song, saving Peeta and the others from the Training Center in the Capitol)

It’s another mockingjay. Exactly like the pin on my dress. Only this one disappears. He snaps the watch closed. “That’s very pretty,” I say. “Oh, it’s more than pretty. It’s one of a kind,” he says. - The disappearing mockingjay on the clock is interesting because A) Plutarch can’t really be flaunting the symbol of rebellion as Head Gamemaker, duh, but also B) the clock arena will be the place where the Mockingjay will disappear (until the rebellion will be able to use her for their cause); and that last comment by Plutarch clearly is aimed at the Mockingjay (Katniss) herself

When I open my eyes, it’s early afternoon. My head rests on Peeta’s arm. I don’t remember him coming in last night. - Okay, Katniss must feel hella safe and used to Peeta joining her in her bed, because apparently she didn’t even wake up when he did, like... I’m a fairly heavy sleeper, but I can’t imagine sleeping so deeply that I wouldn’t jerk awake if someone crawled into my bed while I was snoozing

“No nightmare,” he says. “What?” I ask. “You didn’t have any nightmares last night,” he says. He’s right. For the first time in ages I’ve slept through the night. - Telling how the first time Katniss sleeps through the night is after Snow let her know her performance wasn’t enough; she’s must have been so tense and on edge, desperately trying to calm down the districts and convince Snow, that she hadn’t been able to sleep properly, aside from the obvious sleeping issues she’d have from the PTSD (I’m often that way before an important exam - especially if it’s an oral exam; I get tense just thinking about it 😓)

“I had a dream, though,” I say, thinking back. “I was following a mockingjay though the woods. For a long time. It was Rue, really. I mean, when it sang, it had her voice.” “Where did she take you?” he says, brushing my hair off my forehead. “I don’t know. We never arrived,” I say. “But I felt happy.” - Interesting how in Katniss’s dream, the mockingjay is Rue - lending further credence to the hypothesis that maybe Rue was originally meant to be the Mockingjay (would make Plutarch’s comment of the mockingjay being “one of a kind” a bit more hypocritical/exaggerated/dramatized, which still fits with his flair for propaganda/showmanship... and ultimately, Katniss as the Mockingjay was unique, but that doesn’t mean that the rebellion couldn’t have made someone else their symbol if they needed to); also, Peeta brushing Katniss’s hair off her forehead is so sweet and intimate 😊

After I got home, we [Madge and I] started spending time together. [...] It was a little awkward at first because we didn’t know what to do. Other girls our age, I’ve heard them talking about boys, or other girls, or clothes. Madge and I aren’t gossipy and clothes bore me to tears. But after a few false starts, I realized she was dying to go into the woods, so I’ve taken her a couple of times and showed her how to shoot. She’s trying to teach me the piano, but mostly I like to listen to her play. - Honestly? I’d love to read a fanfic about Katniss and Madge figuring out their friendship (let me know if there already are some!); it’s cute how they end up including each other in their hobbies 😊 Ah, the classic “I’m/We’re not like other girls”, which often is especially prevalent during your teen years (I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t been gulty of this in my past 😅)... Katniss might actually would have benefited from talking with Madge about her boys’ troubles, though... And it’s so funny how Katniss admits that she has no interest in clothes, despite it being her supposed “talent”, while she also admits that she does admire Cinna’s work

... there’s a mob scene. The square’s packed with screaming people, their faces hidden with rags and homemade masks, throwing bricks. Building burn. Peacekeepers shoot into the crowd, killing at random. I’ve never seen anything like it - I... I have. At least on tv... In different places, at different times, but... yeah...

[squishytenya]

𝕊𝕚𝕔𝕜 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

‘Could I request an imagine where you’re sick a lot and have to miss classes, so Iida comes to ask you about it but when he realizes you’re not skipping he gets really concerned?

↬ Parings: Iida x reader

↬ Reader: Gender Neutral

↬ Warnings: fevers, fluff, illness in general

You felt like you were on fire.

This wasn’t rare for you at all. Unfortunately, it had the disadvantage of you missing classes a lot and this worried you. What if you failed? What if Aizawa expelled you? No, he wouldn’t after you explained to him your knack for catching any and all sickness going through your school. It didn’t stop you worrying but it did calm your nerves ever so slightly. Little did you know, a certain class rep was equally as worried.

You guys had been dating for a while and he was worried that you hadn’t showed up, yet again. Surely, you were skipping? No, you wouldn’t do that. Iida wanted desperately to believe that you weren’t ditching classes but there was really no other explanation to him. Nobody he knew of got sick that much and you didn’t have any lasting injuries he knew of.

He was lost.

The final straw for him was when a training event that you had been excited for rolled around and you were nowhere to be seen. Mina and Denki had strolled in without you today and Mina had shot him a sympathetic look. Tenya raised an eyebrow which sent the pinkette bouncing over towards him.

‘Y/n didn’t come out of their room this morning, i texted them but they said not to worry!’ she explained, not calming his nerves one bit.

Well if you were okay, why weren’t you in school? He thought to himself. Contemplating his options, he elected to visit you after his training session and investigate why you thought it was okay to just ditch class. At first, he was a little disappointed but, as the day went on, he just grew more and more concerned about you. In all seriousness, you didn’t seem like the type to ditch class. Your hardworking nature and passion for heroism is what drew him to you in the first place and he knew, deep in his heart, there was something deeper going on here. In the end, he was so worried that he asked Aizawa if he could leave training early to check on you.

Within 5 minutes he was at the dorms, he couldn’t help but use his quirk to come see you. After standing outside your door for ten minutes, arms fidgeting at his sides, he decided to knock on the door sharply.

Three sharp knocks woke you from your medicine-induced nap and you immediately recognised their stiffness as your boyfriend. Chuckling a little, you called for him to come in. Mostly because you knew it was Tenya but also because you felt too rough to move right now. As soon as your door creaked open, Iida’s mouth was spewing a lecture at you. One that you were far too sick to comprehend.

‘Y/n it is highly inappropriate for you to be skipping classes, how will you….are you alright?’ he trailed off

You giggled slightly and motioned for him to come sit on your bed next to you. You pulled yourself up during his short walk to your little next of illness. As you shuffled up the bed, he noticed the boxes of meds surrounding your bed like fallen leaves and cringed at his assumption. When a red faced Tenya finally sat down, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled yourself into his lap.

‘My life, are you sick?’

You nodded. He felt far too cold against your temperature ridden body for you to want to lift your head and talk to him. A rough hand came up to your sweaty head and pressed against your forehead. His hum of discontent let you know he had realised how bad you were feeling and this gave you a small amount of regret. Iida had a tendency to worry to much about things like these and you were expecting a lecture about health but instead you just got a rather dejected hum.

‘Y/n,’ he began hesitantly, ‘when you miss classes, are you always this sick?’

You gave another reluctant nod and felt the air dispel from his sigh. Thinking you had disappointed him, you shrunk further into yourself and kept your eyes closed. Once again, the rough hand touched your face but lifted your chin up so you were facing him. Cautiously, you cracked open your eye and saw his look of sympathy instead of the expected disappointment.

‘Why didn’t you tell my angel, you need someone to take care of you. Have you ever seen a doctor about this?’

‘Yeah’, you whispered, ‘I just have a bad immune system that’s all’

This did nothing to settle Iida’s nerves but it was okay, you had him to help you now. Placing you on the bed, he started cleaning up and putting tissues and medicine sachets in the bin for you. Watching him rush around your room like a frantic mother made you smile a little. It was no doubt how much he cared about you and you loved every minute of it. As you observed your boyfriend cracking open your window to ‘let the germs air out’ you thought something to yourself that kind of shocked you.

This was who you wanted to spend your life with.

Remember Reblogs Help Content Creators <3

[bonjour-rainycity]

Cold Shoulder

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Rating: T 

Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this nor do I own anything recognizable. Also, I edited after a glass of wine. So. I think I shall blame any mistakes on that. 

Word count: 2317

Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence

Request: Aragorn x Reader where he protects the reader but she is mad at him because of that and gives him a silent shoulder. Much fluff please (Anon)

A/n Anon, thank you for the request!! I enjoyed writing this and love me some Aragorn content <3 Also, for context, I placed the reader in the Fellowship. Okay, read on!

The sharp cry pierces the peace of the early morning.

“Orcs!”

Legolas, who had been standing watch and discovered the threat, immediately begins firing arrows, keeping the pack at bay. The rest of us spring into action, drawing weapons and shouldering our bags, looking to Aragorn to determine our next move. Despite the jolt of fear that runs through me, I know that luck is on our side. For one, our group had planned to set out shortly, meaning our camp is packed and we run no risk of leaving anything behind. Second, it was Legolas on watch, and his keen eyesight gave us critical early warning.

I feel a rough hand wrap around mine, and I’m yanked into a sprint. I nearly stumble at the speed Aragorn sets, but force myself to keep pace. A quick look at my surroundings tells me why we’re running — our camp is secluded, but there are too many high spots around us for it to be favorable in a fight. I can assume that we are making for higher or more open ground, so that we will not be at a disadvantage when the orc pack inevitably catches us.

There’s a muffled yelp, and I whip my head around to see Frodo tripping and falling roughly to the ground.

“Aragorn—” His name has barely left my lips when I feel his hands on my back, spurring me on, and he leaves my side, running back to aid our hobbit friend. Closer than I would like, the wails of the orc grow louder, and, at my right, Boromir speeds up, hauling Merry along with him.

The three of us break through the tree-line first, and immediately, an arrow whizzes above my head.

Damn it, they cut us off!

I don’t have much time to dwell on how the monsters got around us unnoticed, because a tall, imposing orc lunges in my direction. I raise my dagger and put all my focus into not letting the orc’s razor-sharp sword pierce my skin.

The shrieks and grunts of battle, as well as the shrill clanking of metal hitting metal fill the air. The orc jabs his sword at me, and I jump to my left. As the orc takes another swing, an arrow soars mere millimeters from my ear and imbeds itself in my attacker’s eye. I don’t even have time to shoot Legolas a thankful glance, because another beast catches my arm and pulls me against his foul-smelling side. I swipe at his arm with my dagger, and with a howl of pain, he throws me to the ground, raising his sword. I roll to the side, narrowly dodging the slice of steel, and push myself back to my feet. The orc is distracted, struggling with his weapon which is embedded in the ground, leaving the side of his neck exposed. I lift my dagger, and step forward, intent on ending this fight—

An arm grips my waist and pulls me back, moving me out of the way and slaying the orc.

I gawk at Aragorn, who, with the focused eyes of battle, rips his sword free of the orc’s neck and spins, killing a beast to his right.

“I had it,” I shout over the noise, unable to contain my frustration.

Aragorn straightens to face me, eyes wide. “Your back!”

Immediately, I turn on my heel and raise my dagger, pushing against the knife meant to impale my unguarded back. The orc is stronger than me, but if I can hold him off for just a few seconds more, I can reach for my other dagger and stab him in the stomach. As my hand twitches towards my belt, a sword passes around my side, impaling the orc with a sickening squelch.

Once again, I fix Aragorn with disbelieving eyes.

What was the point of investing all that time training me if I don’t get to use any of said training?!

The sounds of battle begin to fade, and, with a final swing of Gimili’s axe, the fighting is done.

We take stock of our injuries which are, thankfully, minor, and pull the dead orc deep into the tree line, not wanting to draw attention to our path. After the quickest of rests and a wash-up in the stream, we continue, Aragorn insisting that we cannot take any unnecessary delays now that we have orc interested in us.

We begin our trek, mostly in tired silence.

At the front of the group, Aragorn and Legolas do a mixture of scouting and chatting, seeming more relaxed the farther we get from the site of the attack. Aragorn doesn’t usually walk with me, preferring instead to lead with Legolas and keep an eye out for danger. Usually, I wish he would stay by my side, but today, I am grateful for the distance, as I’m not feeling too kindly towards him at the moment. I can’t stop myself from glaring at his back, resenting him taking away my right to handle myself in battle. But after an hour of lonely overthinking, resentment gives way to insecurity. What if he only jumped in because he thinks I’m weak? He’s probably not the only one…compared to everyone else, what advantages do I have? They probably all, to some extent, see me as a burden.

Gimli jogs up next to me, fixing me with a mildly concerned look.

“You alright, lassie? Not hurt, are ya?”

Aragorn’s head tilts in our direction. He’s listening.

Unable to contain my annoyance at his continued monitoring, I huff. “I’m fine, Gimli, thanks. Just tired.”

Gimli looks at the ground, seemingly unable to reconcile my usual friendliness with this foul mood. “Aye, well, t’is to be expected, after the morning we had. You fought well.”

I cross my arms, cocking my head to the side. “Did I? Because, as I remember it, I was barely allowed to fight at all.”

At this, I hear light sniggering behind me, and whip my head around to see a quickly composed Merry and Pippin looking anywhere but me.

Gimli makes a sighing, almost grumbling noise, and walks off to join his friends at the front of the group. Aragorn hangs back a little, waiting for me to catch up before resuming a slower pace.

“What troubles you?”

Getting right to the chase, then.

I huff angrily, my annoyance from this morning only growing now that I’ve had hours to stew about it. Because really, I am well-trained, I am capable, and he had no business neglecting his own safety to help me when I wasn’t in any actual danger. I had it all under control! And rather than feeling like a warrior equal with my companions, I feel like a girl who just slows them down and needs babysitting.

Aragorn stops walking and grips my elbow lightly, pulling me to stop with him. “I cannot help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

I glare at him. Can I handle nothing on my own?! “Well, maybe I don’t want your help, Aragorn.”

He sighs, sounding frustrated, but lets me go.

Neither of us makes an attempt to talk to the other for the remainder of our hike.

{***}

We stop when it is well and properly dark, making hasty camp. I drop my bedroll and begin preparing for the night, cleaning my dagger and shoes as best I can. The others sit on rocks near the fire, eyeing me warily.

Pippin elbows Merry and hisses in a low voice,“go and talk to her, something’s obviously wrong with her.”

Merry’s eyes grow comically wide, and he fixes his friend with an indignant expression. “Why does it have to be me, then?! I don’t want to get yelled at.”

“Because I checked on Frodo last Thursday when he was in a mood, and now it’s your turn.”

“I didn’t realize we were taking turns,” Merry whisper-shouts, oblivious to the fact that everyone can hear their argument just fine.

Sam fixes them with a pleading look before glancing over to me. “Miss Y/n, do you not want supper?” He hesitantly holds a bowl in my general direction.

“No, thank you,” I respond, cooler than intended. He blinks at me for a moment, and then hands the bowl to an amused Boromir.

I feel the weight of everyone’s questioning stares, hear their hushed whispers, and cannot take it one moment longer.

“I’m going to get more firewood,” I declare, tucking my dagger back into my belt and trudging deeper into the forest.

The woods are dark, but there is sufficient light from the moon, and I pick my way through the trees, looking for fallen logs and branches. I don’t stray to where I can no longer hear the voices of my friends, though — I may be angry, but I’m not stupid.

Less than two minutes later, the sound of light footsteps creeps into my hearing.

Aragorn walks to my side, bending to grasp and examine a log that might make for good firewood. He doesn’t look at me when he speaks. “Sam put aside some soup for you, though I would not delay if you wish to eat it. I saw Pippin eyeing it with interest.”

When I don’t laugh or give any indication that I heard him, he shifts on his feet, unsure. “I feel tension between us. I’ve upset you?”

I make a noncommittal noise and go a few yards deeper in the forest.

“Y/n?”

With a resigned sigh, I turn to face him, knowing that my silence is hurting him. “It’s stupid.”

Obviously pleased that I’m speaking to him now, Aragorn takes quick steps towards me, wearing an open expression. “If I have done something to hurt you, you have every right to be upset.”

I resist the urge to groan. Stop being so good and noble, it makes it hard to stay mad at you. I reign in my frustrations and sigh, forcing myself to look him in the eyes. “I feel like the weakest link. I’m the youngest, the only woman, I don’t possess any special abilities or extensive battle experience. I put a lot of work into being competent with my daggers, and still there are days when I question my right to be here with you all. So when you jump in to protect me, well-intentioned as you may be, I feel like a child that needs looking after rather than someone capable of standing her own ground.”

His face falls, and discomfort spreads in my stomach. But before I can apologize and take back my words, he offers his hands, and I take them gratefully.

“I did not consider how my actions would make you feel, though I understand now. Forgive me, Y/n?”

At his heartfelt words, my anger ebbs away. I use my grip on his hands to pull him closer and rest my forehead against his chest. “Of course.”

He pulls back slightly to bring my hands to his lips, pressing kisses on my knuckles. “I intervened during the fight not because I think you incapable, but because I wanted to keep you as much removed from the danger as possible. You are precious to me, Y/n. I won’t risk losing you.”

At this, he leans his forehead against mine, and I can’t help how I soften at his words. I didn’t think about it like that. “There is the slightest possibility that I may have accidentally overreacted a little.”

Aragorn rewards me with a deep chuckle, one I can feel vibrating through his chest, and shakes his head against mine. “Are you sure, my love? I think ignoring me all day was a completely proportionate response.”

I roll my eyes at the dripping sarcasm in his voice and raise a hand to smack his chest. Before I can get anywhere near him, his own hand shoots out and grabs my wrist —  an act that has me grumbling in irritation and him shaking with laughter. Once he regains composure, he brings my wrist to his lips and places the softest of kisses there, watching my face carefully for my reaction.

I look away, trying to distract myself from the fluttering in my stomach. He trails a line of kisses up my forearm, and I scramble for something to say before my brain gets scattered beyond help. “For the record, you mean the world to me and I would defend you in battle too, if the need were to arise.”

His lips pause against my skin. I turn my head back to him to see that he’s, much to my annoyance, trying to fight a smile. Unable to school his smirk, he raises his head, still holding my hand in his. “I thank you, dearest, but I hardly believe that will be necessary. I’ve been battling for decades, I can handle a few stray orc.”

I step back out of his embrace, crossing my arms and regarding him with raised eyebrows.

He realizes his mistake.

“Oh—um, I meant, I—”

I shake my head. “No, you know what? Not ‘should the need arise’, I’ll just do it anyway! Next fight, you better watch out buddy, I’m throwing myself in front of anything that comes at you!”

His eyes blow open and his voice takes on a strangled quality. “Y/n, please don’t, that’s just unnecessary—”

“Nope!” I stomp away from him, picking up branches at random. “You brought this upon yourself. Get ready to be defended!”

Before walking back to camp, I turn to give him a sickeningly sweet smile. “I love you.”

Aragorn dramatically drops his head into his hands. “I shall die from stress.”

Our companions, who obviously heard our argument, roar with laughter.

A/n Thank you for reading! If you have a moment, I’d love it if you could check out my masterlist! Thank you :)