#she's so morally gray it's not even concerning it's hot

[whydoeseveryonehavetobelesbian]

finished she who became the sun IM CRAZY! im crazy im insane this is crazy... her unquenchable thirst for power and greatness and her feminist lesbian tendencies have captivated me... truly the savior of a nation

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some guy finds Red Hood annoying.

Masterpost

All Danny wanted was one peaceful day. That was all. What does he get instead? A 6’ foot, jacked, vigilante crime lord. (Anti-hero, is that what he is? Danny wasn’t sure.) Now Danny’s not gonna say that a tall, built, hot as hell morally gray bad guy isn’t always unwelcome. It was just this one. (Unless, apparently, you’re Jazz. “Seriously?” “Look I don’t need saving but if he wants to come to my rescue, who am I to complain.”) They have gotten into many fights since Danny first moved to Gotham. ( He had chosen to live in a crime alley despite being able to afford slightly better. The money from his college fund was dumped entirely into said school and the money he earned went to bills and groceries.) Said screaming matches weren't even really fights; they were closer to the squabbles he’d get into with Jazz as an annoying way to express concern for each other. (A habit they, unfortunately, learned from their parents.) So having these types of arguments with said morally gray crime lord had Danny wondering if it was too late to cancel Jazz’s flight. (She boarded an hour ago.) He didn’t want them meeting, actually he’d like to keep her as far away as possible.

That’s why it was really inconvenient for these guys to kidnap him today. He had to get his sister from the airport and now he had to deal with Red Hood? Really? Other than Dickwing, Red Hood was the last person Danny wanted to see in a kidnapping situation. At least the others didn't make him feel like he was disappointing them. Only Jazz was allowed to make him feel the sting of disappointment at being reckless (and occasionally Sam and Tucker). Now, Danny thought he had decent common sense (“Shut up, Jazz.”), but he would gladly admit that he didn’t have Gotham common sense. He wasn’t afraid to go out at night just because the Riddler got out of Arkham. Honestly, he didn't see why he had to be afraid given any time of day. Danny was pretty sure he was basically immortal. (“Immortality is not dying and coming back as a full ghost.” “Then what would you call it, Jazz!?”) This seemed to frustrate Red Hood to no end as Danny lived in his part of the city and Danny was prone to finding trouble. (It actually seems to find him, Danny’s not actively going out and looking for it. He’s just trying to get on with his life.)

Anyway, yeah, Jazz was flying in for the weekend and somebody had kidnapped him. A perfectly normal Thursday. So, in perfectly normal Thursday fashion, Spoiler and Red Hood had swooped in while Danny was in the midst of a really intense staring contest with the kidnapper across from him. (“You know the staring is flattering when Tim does it but you make me feel icky.” The man didn't move and his hard stare barely wavered. “Alright, but I warn you I’m really good at this game.”) A flash of purple and the goon was no longer standing. Red Hood had come in guns blazing and made quick work of the other two kidnappers as Danny waited patiently to be untied. He could have phased through the chains he was hanging by but he didn't see a reason to. Just because they knew he could turn invisible didn’t mean they needed to know about everything else. (“That’s gaslighting, Danny.” “Technically, Sam, I think it’s lying by omission.” “Tucker.” “Right, not helping.”)

“Sooo,” Spoiler sang once Danny was free. “Who’s Tim?” You know what? Maybe it was Spoiler he should have been dreading. Red Hood made his way over, “yeah, kid, you got a boyfriend you didn’t tell us about?” Mm no, he regrets being in both their presence. Danny waved their questions away as he turned in a slow circle looking for the door. He wasn't quite sure of the time, but he was positive he was late to pick up Jazz. He answered as he made his way to the unconscious body of the guy who lost the staring contest, “a friend, well, a customer - a regular really. Nice guy, cute, has a staring problem.” Danny stooped down and started digging through the guys pockets, “do either of you know where the exit is?” Thankfully the guy was the one with his phone, he didn't want to search all the kidnappers. Turning it on, Danny saw that he was late and Jazz had already caught a taxi back to his place. The text had got increasingly more panicked the longer he hadn’t responded along with an alarming number of missed calls. 

Danny shot her a quick text as he followed Spoiler out of the building. Sorry, got kidnapped, am fine now. Please don't call. Will explain later. Love ya <3 He quickly added a selfie that Spoiler photo bombed over his shoulder holding up a peace sign. 

The screen immediately lit up with a facetime call. Danny turned it off and stuffed it in his pocket. He really didn't want Jazz meeting Red Hood.

He turned to face his “saviors.” “Okay, this has been fun. Thanks for the rescue, sorry I can’t stay and talk but I am needed elsewhere.” Throwing a quick salute he started down the street. After a block and a half he stopped at the opening of an ally. “You know I hate it when you all just stalk me from the shadows, it's very Babadook of you.” Hood appeared first behind Danny, “what's Babadook?” “A gay icon,” Spoiler drops in front of Danny. “Very true,” Danny high fives her as he hears Red Hood sigh, seeming to mutter to himself, “this is going in the folder.” “Okay,” Danny says, addressing both of them, “you don't need to walk me home.” Red Hood crossed his arms, “you’d rather your ‘Tom’ walk you?” Danny really really didn't want Jazz to meet Red Hood. Danny sighed, “His name is Tim and he’s just a friend and I’d rather nobody walked me home, I’m a fully capable adult.” “Capable huh? That’s what you call last week’s fiasco?” Last week’s fiasco being an incident that may or may not have involved a cult trying to sacrifice him. (He was insulted that they were trying to sacrifice him to a low level demon. He was the king of the infinite realms and they were using him to summon Craig? Really? Not that they knew any of this but still. Rude.) Spoiler placed her forearm on Danny’s shoulder to lean, as if he wasn't a few inches taller then her. “Not to mention tonight's kidnapping.” Danny shrugged her off. “And you two saved me,” he started slowly backing away into the alley behind him, “so, danger avoided.” Red Hood's hand shot out and grabbed Danny by the back of his shirt collar, “uh-uh, you're not pulling the disappearing act tonight.” Danny had indeed been intending to disappear and fly home, now he was being scuffed like a kitten. In hindsight he had pulled that move fairly often with Hood. Crossing his legs Danny refused to be set down on his feet so Red Hood dropped him. “Ow!”One peaceful day, was that too much? (Luckly, they didnt follow him into his building and just watched him enter. Unluckily, he had a worried and very annoyed older sister to face.) (“A selfie, Danny?! Really!?” “I wanted to assure you it was really me!”)

Part 7

[sun-stricken]

Random Gratsu hc’s

Job dates. Training dates. they’ve probably had like 3 real dates not counting anniversaries

Grays childhood nickname for Natsu was Ashes, it was one of the first he called him and probs the only one that wasn’t driven as an insult.

he stopped calling him that at some point in their early teens, but he accidentally let it slip post forming the team and Natsu wouldnt respond to anything else from him for like a week straight

Gray has chronic pain, and he will drape himself over Natsu when it gets bad bc hes a human heating pad. Natsu takes it in stride even if hes having a conversation with someone

If Natsu gets too flustered (or turned on, or angry) his temperature will rise a lot, and since Gray runs cold their first kiss (and plenty after) created light steam

its happened during most of their firsts as a couple and it always makes Gray laugh which in turn causes Natsu even more embarrassment which creates more steam

its a vicious cycle

Gray fell first, Natsu fell harder

Gray isnt bad at flirting per se, hes just awkward ans gets too embarrassed with it. He prefers to ‘flirt’ with actions (looking him up and down, gifts, being touchy)

Natsu unintentionally flirts, hes not the type to hold back and says what he means. So he ends up giving the most genuine, love struck compliments known to man and he doesn’t even realize.

However, his deep hidden knowledge of actual flirting comes out when they’re fighting

Even though they argue constantly they have a rule against going to bed angry that they follow religiously, and if that means they don’t sleep for days on end sometimes thats nobody’s business but theirs.

When they started dating the original plan was to wait to tell people, but Natsu, who was genuinely vibrating with excitement and a need to tell everyone, broke within the first week

(what he doesnt know is Gray actually broke first, telling Cana the day of the first date (He needed moral support and shes had to listen to him moon over him for years! she deserved to know!))

Not that it really mattered, half the guild thought they were dating already

There was no formal announcement, they just started making out in the guild and that was that

ironically, the guildmates closest to them were the ones that had no clue and were surprised. And the ones that werent that close went on abt how ‘it was so obvious’ and ‘how could you not know?’

Once the shock and awe died down, ppl started panicking trying to figure out who to give the shovel talk to

baseline; it was very eventful

Before they started dating every now and then you could catch Gray looking in pure awe at Natsu when hes beating the shit out of someone

He doesnt even try to hide it now, even if hes the one Natsus fighting

Gray, staring at Natsu: hes so hot
Lucy, concerned: ??? Hes about to kill that guy!!
Gray, sighing dreamily: i know

They dont actually know how they started dating. one minute they were fighting and the next they were making out, two days later they were on a date in a restaurant way too fancy for them. and that was that

Gray has used Natsu as a human lighter so many times over the years its likely he doesnt even carry one any more

Natsu will eat the flame if Gray tries to use one till he asks him

[sapplejack]

I actually really like Lee; his personality and appearance have charmed me quite easily, and I genuinely think he could be an even greater character if Namco and Harada worked on him just a bit more.

However, you are one of the worst Lee fans, out of all the Lee fans I’ve seen in this fandom. Not only do you criticize every other character that isn’t Lee, but then you have the gall to insult others and whine about being a “real person” when YOU get insulted. Not to mention, just- sugarcoating Lee’s childhood. Yes, it’s sad that Heihachi abused him and he had to go through all this, but stop thinking he’s some clean cut innocent man who’s never seen a drop of blood in his life. You’re actively ruining the character.

Lee worked for Kazuya back in TK2, and if Kazuya back in TK2 did things like kill people, smuggle animals, drug dealings, etc. then what makes you think Lee didn’t join in, or even help him? Lee has blood on his hands, just like any other Mishima.

Also, you’re sooo smart for thinking that anyone that likes Kazuya or Jin is some desperate motherfucker that needs to “vehemently defend their favorite character’s atrocities”, as you said it on Twitter. Like, excuse them for liking morally gray characters.

You’re not any better with Lee, by the way. You also defend him like you’re defending your own damn family.

Not to mention you stroking your own damn ego by thinking that you’re some “intellectual” by wishing that Kazuya dies, Jin goes to jail, and Jun fails to save them both in TK8. Do you want a medal or something?

And how could I forget your horrific takes on some of the characters, like Xiaoyu?

“She’s a creepy stalker, just like Ganryu!!”

Ganryu was actively looking to sleep and date 2 women which are both young enough to be his damn DAUGHTER. HE’S GROSS.

But Xiaoyu? She just wants to look out for her friend, Jin. And before you tell me she just wants to save her herself, or some other bullshit, her personality from TK3-TK4 onwards sucks ass, because Namco sucks ass and can’t write female characters correctly. And by the way, your dumb argument about “switching their genders” or whatever when it comes to Jin and Xiaoyu is so stupid, I had to take a good minute to try to understand what the fuck you were saying.

Oh, right, I forgot to say- you’re a coward, a hypocrite AND an ableist. I’ve never seen THAT combo before. Good job on deleting that part on your bio where you called Jun, Jin, Kazuya, and Xiaoyu fans “fantards”.

And of course, you hate Kazuya x Jun to an extent which could be called concerning. Anna and Lee didn’t even date each other, and just lightly teased each other in TK5 (by the way, Lee literally mocks her afterwards when he wins, so I doubt that they even liked each other that much), yet they’re such a good couple.

Kazuya and Jun ACTUALLY had a relationship. Anna and Lee didn’t. Do you not see the problem here? If you’re going to hate on Kazuya x Jun because they don’t “love each other”, then just keep it to yourself, especially when YOUR pairing is just “hot sexy girl x hot sexy playboy”. Like, I don’t know, maybe think before you speak? It won’t hurt you, I promise.

All in all, you suck. Either get better and start working on yourself or just leave this fandom. No one likes you, other than your boot licking, dick riding friends/mutuals/followers.

All right! Have you gotten all of it out? If so, then:

[sarcastic-salem]

If you’re into the whole natural aging that’s fine. I agree that no one should have to spend their whole life constantly preening and covering themselves up in 10lbs of makeup. If they don’t want to. You’re allowed to grow your hair heart long and snarled and gray, you’re allowed to free the titties — seriously, I do that a lot. No bras or binders if I’m at home.

You could even go live in a dirt hut in the middle of the Smokey Mountains and have a mud bath.

If you want to.

But here’s the thing some people enjoy makeup. That doesn’t mean they wear it every day or reconstruct their face like a mask with contouring. As far as I’m concerned, those people are extremists. With probably very bad self-esteem issues.

So maybe you oughta work on building people up a bit instead of dictating their appearance, yeah?

Some people enjoy being sexualized and that includes men, women, and enbies.

And ffs do not turn this into a conversation about how problematic the character Harley Quinn is. Because she isn’t. Saying otherwise only goes to show that

You missed the entire point of Birds Of Prey and her origin story. BoP has a stronger feminist message than Captain Marvel. That message is that women should build each other up in order to take down the patriarchy. Which is why it has a reputation as “misandrist trash” among the incels.

You haven’t picked up a comic book or tuned into a Batman animated film in about 10 years. Harley is an ANTIHERO with her own set of ethically grey morals. She has been problematic in the past but she has also —

-Owned an animal shelter

-Worked as a psychiatrist while working to overcome her own mental illness

-Placed her daughter, Lucy, in her sister’s care so that the Joker would have no access to her

-Stopped the Joker from blowing up a fucking orphanage

She’s even an honorary member of the Batfam because she has helped them solve crimes. And annoyed the shit outta them in the process.

Why, because Bruce Wayne — a man who has gotten two of his children killed and doesn’t believe in therapy — has a better sense of empathy, and a better understanding of the psychological ramifications of domestic abuse, manipulation tactics, and cult brainwashing headgames than anyone

Who guilt trips people for wearing the clothing & makeup that they want to wear

And I am not intentionally sexualizing mental illness in anyone. My point is only that

The character Harley Quinn enjoys being sexualized.

Yeah, I know Margot Robbie did not enjoy it as much and that is why she was an executive producer on Birds Of Prey, and if you watch the movie you will see that Harley is a lot more covered up in BoP than in Suicide Squad 2016. In fact, one of the complaints mostly commonly mentioned in the hateful reviews for the film is that “Harley wasn’t hot enough anymore.” My own step-father said that when we walked out of the cinema, and I had to stop myself from smacking him.

Sadly, dressing in uncomfortable outfits often comes hand-in-hand with acting gigs and I think that all actors should have more say over their character wardrobes. Hollywood, however, tends disagree.

And if anyone has any objections to Pinhead’s presence, I seriously suggest you pick up a copy of Clive Barker’s Hellbound Heart.

Seriously, though, why do you think poledancing classes exist?

Do you think there are no strippers or models anywhere on this earth that don’t enjoy their work? Seriously?

Like I said, you can be into the natural aging thing.

But the second you start shaming people who aren’t into it, you become an asshole👌🏻

Sorry about the monster long essay about Harley Quinn — absolutely not the point of this post. But the second I list her as a feminist role model, my inbox gets fucking flooded with TERFy radfem bullshit.

[choccy-zefirka]

"There."

Javik tosses his fresh kill at the soldier's feet.

“Meat.”

He’s brought several plump, still warm bodies of... birds, he believes. At least, they had wings, and he shot them out of the sky. That counts as bird-like, as far as he is concerned.

They have levo-amino biology, judging by the smell of their blood. Should be tolerable for the crew, except for the Turian and the Quarian.

"Whoah..." the soldier breathes out, picking one of the birds up by its long, limp neck.

"Thanks, Prothy, but uh... We have enough rations to last before the repairs are done. Really."

Javik snarls and flexes the fingers of the hand that's not holding a rifle — stained darkly with the birds' blood. A pulse of biotics leaps between his dripping fingers with a warning crackle.

"Do not. Call me. Prothy."

And with that, he turns his back on the blinking, blank-faced human, and on the jagged carcass of their crashed ship, and strides back into the jungle.

 The soldier... James... is right. There is no practical need to be doing this. He has better ways to aid those remaining on the ship — but he can't. He can't stay there, not now. Every corner, every seam of that great fallen bulk carries memories of her.

The combat deck has absorbed the echoes of her voice — always so cheerful, so energetic for the sake of crew morale, even as her body language spoke otherwise.

The sleek white back of the canine mech that still prowls the shuttle bay, a bit dented but mostly intact, carries the unseen imprints of her hands, soft and small and with an utterly unnecessary amount of fingers. And so eager to reach out, to clasp the hand of another, to offer a comforting touch.

The seemingly boring, forgotten back rooms and storage closets are ripe with the scent of her pheromones — reminders of all the times when they sought release in each other, and found... If his people had a word for it, it was erased, carved off the faces of their worlds by the blinding red beams of the Reapers. All he knows is that she once looked into his want-glazed eyes and said cheekily, "Well, seems like us primitives are still good for one thing, huh?"... And he replied, without thinking, "Not just one."

Even the very cargo hold that Javik claimed for his own, has as much of her in the air as it has of the erstwhile Krogan. There are traces left from every single one of her visits, when she'd challenge his views of the galaxy and offer him her own. When she'd ask him the most unnecessary questions, like how he was feeling and if he was lonely; when, again and again, she'd promise to remain his... his friend. And that he would never have to feel his old pain again.

The last time she made that promise, sealing it with a quick kiss, was in a ruined building that looked over the gray, crumbling streets of the human city of London. Once great, he was told; insofar as human cities can be great — and yet now little more than a  carcass, with the remaining skyscrapers jutting into the dark like a gnawed ribcage.

"Soon, Javik," she said, caressing his face. "Your nightmare will finally be over."

He humored her with a smile, allowing the fleeting indulgence of getting lost in her eyes — regrettably, she had just two of them, but so dark and so bright at the same time, that they seemed to contain a galaxy of their own.

"I have been wondering what peace will look like," he replied.

 ...Is this peace? Is it walking through a pathless thicket, hunting for poultry no-one will eat? Drowning himself in the unfamiliar sounds and smells of the green, hot, stickily stuffy wilderness, just to avoid thinking about the ship he's left behind? The ship where he won't be able to set foot without remembering its Commander, and wondering if she broke her promise at last...

The undergrowth rustles. Clumsy feet stumble over roots, snap twigs in two. Javik stops in his tracks and, with a weary sigh, turns around.

"What do you want, Asari?"

His panting pursuer wipes the sweat off her blue face. The climate is definitely not agreeing with her. No wonder; her kind were always spoiled by their idyllic garden homeworld... Until the Reapers reached there too, and turned their scenic rivers to blood and cybernetic fluid.

"I really don't think you should be wandering off, Javik. What if these birds you are hunting are an endangered species?"

"We are all endangered species here," he scoffs. "Some more than others. Now leave me be, if you do not wish to become endangered any further."

She inhales deeply.

"Very well. I tried to avoid calling a spade a spade — "

A human expression. Perhaps also an imprint of the Commander. She has — had? he does not know; he cannot choose the word — a way of rubbing off on people.

"— But frankly, it's rather selfish of you to go hunting of all things, when we need all hands on deck to get the Normandy back in the air."

"This is not about hunting!"

He cuts himself short, before he can let slip anything more.

Really, what can he say to her?

That he has failed to heed the very advice he once gave her, when she stumbled across the corpse of her planet? Numb yourself to loss?

He does not even know if he lost... if the charge of energy from the Citadel, which the Normandy just barely outraced, claimed the Commander's life. He is not certain of that, not yet, but the sheer possibility is turning him too cowardly to stand where she once stood.

Can he really tell the Asari — T'Soni — all of that?

...It turns out that he does not have to. She is a clever one. All it takes is one long, questioning look, and she staggers back a step, with that quiet "Oh" of realization.

"It's about Shepard, isn't it?" she asks, brows raised. In... pity? For her sake, it had better not be pity.

"Your telepathic capabilities must be making it difficult for you to remain on the Normandy right now. So much must be reminding you of her."

She shuffles about in the spot for a moment or two, before adding apologetically,

"I saw you two in London. It was... quite surprising to say the least, but I hope you made each other happy, however briefly."

Javik sneers, angry not as much at T'Soni but at the pang of pain that ruptures something intangible within his chest.

"The Commander and I had an occasional physical dalliance; it is completely irrelevant."

T'Soni shakes her head.

"I noticed the way you looked at her before you parted ways. You are — "

 Her voice is completely lost in the creaking and rustling of the trees and the terrified screech of a flock of birds that darts, bullet-fast, away... Not from Javik. From something much bigger. Much darker. All too familiar.

It floats so low that its underside brushes against the tree tops, casting the jungle into shadow. Its glaring red eye is dead, and it is not making that bellowing noise, which would have made Javik's blood churn with hatred. But it is still, unmistakably, a Reaper. And it is moving towards the Normandy.

The carpet of dry leaves and alien moss is tugged violently from under Javik's feet.

She failed. The Commander failed. Through no fault of hers, of course; he knows, with every fiber of his being, every millimeter of his skin, which she once touched, kissed caressed, warmed with the beating of her heart... He knows that she would have done her absolute best. But at the end, she was just one woman, bloodied and worn and bruised, half-crawling into the beam of light linking Earth and the Citadel.

She told them to stay behind, not to put themselves into any more danger. He should have ignored that; he should have come with her. So what if he could barely walk himself at the time; he is the last Prothean, the Avatar of Vengeance. It was his duty to stand beside her, and he —

T'Soni tugs at his arm.

"We must get back to them! We must all stay together!"

His body complies, even as his mind is still with the Commander, his eyes still looking into hers. He and T'Soni rush through the jungle like a dual whirlwind, their biotics trailing after them in a cascade of blue and green. The Reaper moves overhead, calm and implacable; along the way, they try to fire at it, with biotic blasts and with regular ammo. If only to slow it down, to distract it. It ignores them.

The Normandy's communication systems are still among the many, many things that the little Quarian, the crew's pet machine, and the others are trying to cobble back into shape. But T'Soni did bring along a childishly crude "walkie talkie".

"Joker! Garrus!" she screams into it, while iridescent beads of tears fly behind her through the air, suspended by biotics. "Anyone! There is a Reaper headed your way!"

"Yeah, we noticed!" the pilot responds at last. The crackle in his voice is not all static interference.

"So Shepard must have died, huh... Damn..."

"Now is not the time, Jeff," the machine chimes in, and even Javik cannot deny that its... her voice sounds organically stern and concerned. And a little bit pained.

"Wait a second!"

Now it's the Turian.

"Are you seeing this?!... Spirits! "

When Javik and T'Soni reach the Normandy and take a shortcut inside, by floating through one of the smashed windows, the realize that the Turian — Garrus — is being rather more... literal than they expected.

The Reaper has frozen above the ship, not in any hurry to attack. And within, every shattered screen, every half-melted comm panel, every device in the hands of the gawking, stupefied crew, is broadcasting the same image. The same face that hovers before them, like a shimmering digital ghost. Looking, but not seeing: the slack-jawed shock on T'Soni's face; the misty cloud behind Tali's mask; the wild fanning of Garrus' mandibles... The quiver in Javik's hand when he reaches out on instinct, and then falls back, swaying in silent agony.

It's... It's the Commander. Shepard. Kore — his Kore... His one reason to have faith in this cycle; his mirror and his counterbalance. The Avatar of Hope.

Seeing her again, like this, as a projection, confirms his worst fears. The pain boils under his skin; it reaches its peak when she smiles, in a smile that is not hers. Placid and plastic, like on that primitive VI on the Citadel. This is just a recording. A copy of her, beamed into the Normandy by the Reaper.

"Hello friends," she says. "Please do not be alarmed. You may have started seeing the Reapers all over the galaxy turn around, stop fighting, and act in ways you would not expect them to act. This is because they have been reprogrammed. They will repair the damage they caused, secure and reassemble the Mass Relays to resume galactic travel as soon as possible, return the people they took that have not yet been processed, and then leave the Milky Way forever. That is their new mission, and I, Commander Shepard of the Alliance Navy, am personally seeing it done. Or rather, I used to be Commander Shepard. At this point, I have probably stopped being human and given the last bit of myself to create a new AI that will compel the Reapers to stop the war with minimal new casualties. The one thing I want you — all of you, on every planet in every system — to know, is that before I died, I made it to the Citadel. I finished the mission I was given. You are at peace now. Please rebuild, and be happy. Good luck."

In the silence that falls, Javik breaks.

And in the shards of his own self, he sees the truth with crystal clarity. This is a hallucination. A trick of the Reapers, who are using the image of Shepard — their hero, whom so many trust and follow with unwavering loyalty — to placate them.

But in reality, she is gone. She never made it. And the worst has come to pass. They have all been indoctrinated.

"So the cycle has ended again; the Reapers have won," he says, every word dripping through his teeth like he's coughing blood. "But I will not go down as their plaything!"

He still has the rifle with him. He raises it, turns it in his hands...

"JAVIK, NO!" T'Soni cries.

There is a burst of blue.

Then, nothing but black.

 "Is he awake?"

"I think so. Fortunately, he did not lose a lot of blood. If he had, I am not sure how we could have made a transfusion."

"Oh thank the goddess. And thank you, Doctor... Can I see him?"

"Yes, but try not to over-agitate him. He injured several members of the staff with unconscious releases of biotics while he was being sedated."

"Yes. Of course."

The inky pall before Javik's eyes recedes. At first, his world is a pale, bleary slit. Then, as he tears his primary eyes wider, that narrow window expands, and sounds come flooding in as well. The steady beeping of medical equipment. The rumble of voices behind closed doors. And the annoyingly loud breathing of the Asari by his bedside.

"Javik! I am so sorry!" she exclaims when their gazes lock. "I tried to get the rifle out of your reach with my biotics, and we struggled, and... I accidentally wounded you. But we managed to bring you to Huerta Memorial, and you are going to make a full recovery!"

"You... You kept me alive..." Javik hisses, gripping at the white, heavy slab on top of him, which keeps him shackled down. Trapped in his bed.

"How dare you?!"

"Javik, please listen!"

He is not yet strong enough, and she takes advantage of that to speak over him.

"I understand that what you heard on the Normandy shocked and terrified you — we all had the same reaction. But it was all true. We are not indoctrinated. The fighting has stopped; the abductions have stopped; the Reapers are repairing the cities, the relays, everything, at incredible speed! The Reaper on that planet — it was there to help us fix the Normandy! And then it guided us to the Citadel. Shepard truly did achieve the impossible!"

"And here I was assuming you were intelligent," Javik may have lost the struggle against his slab-like blanket, but he is still glowering. "But no, your primitive mind is jumping from fear to admiration!"

The Asari frowns.

"Yes, I suppose I did get too overenthusiastic. A lot of people still have trauma associated with the Reapers, you included — myself included! Who am I fooling; I get nightmares of Thessia almost every night... I disrespected that. The Reapers will never be a truly benevolent force, of course. But I trust Shepard; she said she programmed them to leave when they are done, and I am confident that this is exactly what will happen."

Something begins to seethe within Javik, burning its way up his chest like acid. Anger, and disbelief, and something else. Something much like the pain from his memory shard.

"Why didn't she destroy them? Why did she bargain her life away like this? Could she not have used the Crucible to kill them all?"

"I..."

As T'Soni fumbles for an answer, they are joined by a pitter-patter of insect feet. One of the Citadel Keepers, silent as ever, skitters into the ward, makes a straight line for Javik's bed, places a small object down on the covers, and leaves, off on its routine tasks.

Javik strains to sit up and see what the creature has brought, but T'Soni picks up the object first.

And there comes another "Oh".

"Maybe... Maybe you'll find your answers here, " she tells him, in an odd, small voice, handing the object to him.

Javik freezes up, fingertips a fraction of an inch away from it. This little black rectangle, no bigger than his palm, is... A primitive approximation of a memory shard. Clearly made by inexperienced, uncertain hands, and a mind with only a partial understanding of his people. Like a child's scribble compared to a museum masterwork. Yet, in essence, the same thing.

"Shepard got curious about this technology at one point..." T'Soni whispers. Javik's hearing is sharp enough to pick up what she is saying, although her voice is no louder than a soft breath.

"Glyph and I helped her replicate it. I guess she wanted to use the Cypher to leave you a message... If she..."

Javik has no more patience for her whimpering. He yanks the self-made shard out of her grasp.

 In a nauseating spin, is transported to a vast chamber overlooking the arms of the Citadel, dark as nocturnal fields and peppered with firefly lights.

...That mental image is not his; it must have gotten entwined with this memory. Inadvertently, he smiles to himself. She did so love her planet, and she felt guilty that she got to see it bloom and thrive, when he never experienced that on his homeworld. She shouldn't have, but she did.  He sense that guilt as well, enveloping him at night, when she held him and murmured to him that he was safe, so long as he was with her.

His nausea mounts, and his physical form almost lets go of the shard. He sees her, standing in front of him; not a soulless projection, but a bright, poignant memory. Unsteady on her feet, in battered, lumpy battle gear, still smelling of blood and smoke. Just as he last recalls seeing her.

Beside her, glows an odd hologram, small as a child. Looking up at her. Waiting.

"Javik," she half-speaks, half-chokes, clutching her stomach. "There isn’t much time... But I want to have my last goodbye... And say I am sorry. If my plan worked, you must be feeling outraged, betrayed, that I did not use Crucible as we had first planned. But..."

She swallows shakily, tears washing narrow stripes across her sooty cheeks.

"Even after all these cycles, the Crucible is still not perfect. If I'd just fired it, there would have been too much destruction. It would have burned through Earth and taken out all synthetic beings, not just the Reapers... And it would have shattered the mass relays. I cannot do that. You — you told me that in your cycle, the races of the Milky Way never came together like we did, and that was what made us strong. I cannot isolate the world that I worked so hard to unite. I cannot undo so much shared progress, on top of what the Reapers already took. And I — "

She wipes the tears off her face, turning it into a wet charcoal mess.

"I know what you think of the Geth. And you know that I have always stood firm by my own beliefs. Something that you have always encouraged. Admired even. I believe that the Geth are alive. They are individuals, and their lives are precious. The Crucible would have taken these lives, and maybe targeted the Quarians alongside them as well. Who knows what it counts as a synthetic being. I cannot risk it. I have enough blood on my hands already. There will not be another Aratoht. The only life that needs to be exchanged for peace in the galaxy... is mine."

She straightens up, balls her fists and jerks her head slightly to the side, pointing at the odd child.

"This is the Catalyst. Not the Citadel like we thought; that is just hardware. The Catalyst is the... AI, for want of a better word, which has been driving the Reapers to harvest organic life, cycle after cycle, as part of some insane algorithm. An algorithm that I  intend to rewrite."

Two sinews protrude through the sweat-slick skin of her throat. She draws a labored breath.

"I will take the Catalyst's place, and command the Reapers to fix this bloody mess, turn around, and leave. And then... Then their new AI... the former Commander Shepard..."

She pushes out a feeble, bitter laugh.

"Will self-destruct. There will be no more Catalyst. The cycles will end. The Reapers will turn to space debris in the void beyond the Milky Way. And everyone... everyone will have peace again. You will have peace again. And a full, beautiful life. If you just — if you just hold out a little longer. If you put your trust in me one last time, even if it's against your better judgement. I am... I am sorry I keep putting you through this. And I am sorry we can't walk this new, Reaper-less world together. But I have to get it right. To save as much of the Milky Way as I possibly can."

She laughs again, blood bubbling on her lips.

"You know me. Always staying behind to ensure that everyone makes it."

Suddenly, her eyes darken into those unfathomable galaxies. And all around her, other, older memories bleed through the image of the Catalyst chamber. Javik's face, captured by her mind during all those moments when he thought no-one was watching him, and allowed his features to soften; his anger, to abate, just a fraction; his lips, to form a pensive half-smile.

"I... I love you, Javik," she says. "This will probably make you laugh — so please, please laugh. It will do you some good."

The shard goes quiet. Dead in Javik's half-loosened grasp.

 For the second time in not even an hour, he resurfaces from the dark. Deaf to T'Soni's anguished questions, he stares at the hospital ceiling. The last parts of him that were left unbroken during the revelation on the Normandy, crumble away into a hollow nothing.

All that remains, is that word he was searching for. The word that his people forgot, buried under fear and rage and devastation.

I love you too.

[chaoticgeminate]

Bonds Begin to Form

Part of the Iridescence Fictional Universe

Hunter’s Gambit Series Part Two

Werewolf!Francisco Morales x Selkie f!Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.6K

Series Summary: The local Selkie pod hires Frankie and the boys to track down missing members who ventured outside the sea-side area of the city, reader comes with them to make sure the missing selkie come home. They end up tracking down something more dangerous to all of the shifting people.

Chapter Summary: The hunt for the pups begins

[AO3]

“What can you tell us about the pups that went missing, aside from ages? Do they have their seal skins? I see you left yours.”

Tom’s question made you look back at the four men crammed into the back seats of the SUV, unable to help the confused look on your face. “Left my-? What are you talking about, I’m wearing my coat.” You laughed in mild disbelief at the idea that you’d go without your seal skin anywhere, noticing the way all four of them glanced at the gray and spotted zip-up hoodie you were wearing. “We’ve learned how to adapt our skin appearance to modern day clothes styles, can’t change the natural colors but we don’t have to wear a seal pelt now if we don’t want to. I could technically shape my coat into whatever style I want it to be.” Unlike were-kin who only had the innate magic required to change forms you were closer to a shifter in that you had latent magic outside of just shifting forms.

Frankie made a sound beside you and you risked a glance at him, the wolf was far too handsome in an entirely unfair way, his jaw muscles flexing just slightly as he shifted the SUV and made the turn toward the boardwalk stretch. “That’s pretty convenient, we just have to take the risk of piling on layers or not.” You grinned at the remark and glanced at his fur-lined bomber jacket, the weather wasn’t that chilly but you supposed it was better to have a way to conceal weapons.

Though to be fair you were naturally built for both hot and cold temperatures, and since you had no experience with werewolves you could only theorize that they weren’t that great with the heat.

Tom cleared his throat and you turned your attention back to the other man, not really paying mind to the way the slightest of growls seemed to bubble out of Frankie’s throat, so soft you might’ve missed it, but Tom’s eyes narrowed faintly as he looked at the back of Frankie’s head. Will set a firm grip on Tom’s forearm and you recognized that you were missing something pretty important, unsure of what to do with the wolves getting riled up. Benny whined softly and Santiago reached up from the back seat to grip Tom’s shoulder. “Is, uh, everything okay?” You glanced between Frankie and Tom for a moment only to earn a rapid nod from Benny.

“Just a lot of stress for these two, they’re both parents, the fact that its pups that are missing doesn’t help the situation. I can’t imagine your sisters and brothers-in-law are doing well.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at that insight, not noticing the way Will and Santi both glared at Benny when you returned your attention forward, and even more pressure in your bite at the remark since you knew Gavin didn’t particularly care if the kids showed up. “My sisters are devastated, yeah, especially Marnie since she had a lot of fertility problems and we had to get a rite of fertility done by the Diminutive Fey court so she could even conceive Flora.” You avoided the topic of Gavin entirely; every breeding season he expanded his harem, even if he always treated your sisters as his favorites and you hated it with every fiber of your being.

He even had to gall to snap at you for hiding at Bryn’s apartment whenever you weren’t working during mating season, but you knew the rules just as well as he did. Even just once if he forced himself on you there’d be no escaping his harem until he lost to another bull or allowed you to leave. A light touch to your forearm made you look up, Frankie’s eyes were warm with concern and you realized that you’d parked already, but the werewolf only offered a reassuring smile. “We’ll find them.” There was something in the way his eyes danced, flashing gold in the sun, that was… nice.

It was honestly a shame he had someone already.

“I trust you guys, Frankie.”

“Shall we? The others went ahead to talk with Kaleigh and some of the vendors.”

He slipped out of the truck as you nodded and took his place by your side, standing pretty tall and you finally got a good look at how broad he was, and you looked around the sea of faces for anything that might have an answer to distract you from the man by your side. “We can try the fish market since it’s operated by the other pod that lives in Se’Kvia, they might know something or have seen the pups.” Frankie nodded and let you lead him down the walkway, sniffing the air as you walked, and you did feel a little bad as the market came into sight and his nose wrinkled.

He never mentioned catching any of the scents they were looking for so it stood to reason the trio hadn’t made it this far down the boardwalk.

But he didn’t hesitate to follow you over to where Saraya waved at the entrance of the chilled building, the smell of seafood extraordinarily potent even for your sense of smell, and you found yourself hoping to all hell that there was something you just hadn’t thought of. “Hey Saraya.” The other selkie grinned wide, the Faldes Point Pod were good friends with your own at least despite their much more modern thoughts on the family structure; you secretly hoped that they began influencing your own pod mates.

“Hello love, what’s going on? Who’s your man?” Saraya wiggled her eyebrows playfully and you couldn’t help the slight laugh that escaped you.

“Frankie, this is Saraya. She’s the Matriarch of the Faldes Point Pod that lives off the southern point of the bay. We were hoping you’d seen Colton, Seena, and Flora actually.” Saraya’s brow furrowed, which narrowed her oversized eyes just a touch, and a slight touch to your wrist from Frankie made you follow the direction he was sliding his finger along your skin; spotting two bulls watching you with heavy amounts of suspicion in their eyes.

Saraya shook her head. “No, love, not that I can recall. Why, are the wee ones okay?” The creep of discomfort zinging up your spine was beginning to feel like lighting, your instincts telling you that there was danger nearby somewhere. Frankie’s fingers slid against your palm before he linked his hand with yours, you could tell he was more than prepared to fight or flee depending on the situation.

His voice was rough when he answered, speaking over you this time. “They’re missing, actually, and if you have anything you can tell us we’d appreciate it. My pack and I are the Triple Frontier PI team and we were hired to help find them.” Saraya’s eyes blew wide and she leaned forward, the discomfort fading almost instantly as it came.

“You’re missing pups too? We were- we were afraid to ask your pod since we know you, uh, your Elders enforce the old ways so we didn’t think something like that would be investigated.”

“They weren’t going to but I basically demanded it and Nana Caoimhe backed me up. How many pups from your pod have gone missing?”

“Four. Kaden and his brother Maren, the twins, were the first ones to disappear two days ago. Then it was Yulia yesterday and even after restricting them to the beach Lottie has gone missing, her parents are out looking for her now.”

You didn’t like this at all, seven selkie pups going missing in the span of three days? The signs screamed it was some sort of targeted strike and Frankie crossed his arms beside you.

Not good.

All the others were spread out along the boardwalk, asking business owners about the kids and trying to find them by scent, and this new bit of information only made this seem more like a FBMI problem and not a PI problem. But he still had a shot at some sort of an answer. “You have something that smells like Lottie?” Saraya hummed before nodding and disappearing into the little break room, a stuffed toy being given to him, and lurking under the scent of fish was the faint smell of milk and young child.

Lottie was probably younger than Flora. “Right, we’ll see what we can find.” Saraya’s soft gratitude made him nod and Frankie felt your hand squeeze his from where he still held yours, loosening his grip enough that you could take your hand back, but his chest swelled and puffed out a little when you didn’t and instead gripped just a little tighter. He could see the rigid way you carried yourself and whined softly; he wanted to ease that tension from you, and your reply was a soft snort before you leaned closer to him.

“Tell me about yours?”

Frankie smiled and pulled out his wallet, showing you the picture of Adelia he kept tucked in the clear sleeve. “Adelia, she’s five and she’s a good pup. Savannah, her mother, actually found her mate not long after Adelia was weaned to bottles and went to live with him and his family so it’s just the two of us at home.” Being able to clear up the fact that he was not, in fact, taken was a bit of a relief and he knew you were mainly trying to distract yourself from the fear that there was something far worse happening.

He paused when he caught the trail of a milky scent, your body stopping beside his, and Frankie tugged you along gently enough as he sniffed at the air more. While it would be easier in his wolf skin to properly track it he wasn’t yet ready to change and reveal his hand, because if there was someone abducting selkie pups then he needed to be as inconspicuous as possible and a werewolf in their fur was the least inconspicuous you could get. “Frankie, wait, look.” You tugged gently on his hand and pointed to an SUV with tinted windows parked in the meter spaces, eyes narrowing as his skin crawled, and he could recognize the illegal illusion magic just as easily as you could.

Whoever owned the car had not banked on were-kin involvement though.

Lottie’s scent was leading right to the parking space and Frankie felt the growl bubble up in his throat.

Instead he opened the bond up to the pack, letting them see through his eyes and read into his thoughts, and he felt the confirmation from the others as Will went to get their SUV. Frankie tugged you with him to case the SUV and suspected that the vehicle wasn’t as empty as it appeared, unable to help the way his shoulders were rigid with tension knowing that you were there with him, but you seemed just as tense as he was.

The vehicle roared to life and Frankie felt Will’s reassurance, his brother had the SUV in sight and was working on tailing it, and he would have called it a bust if you didn’t call out his name. “Frankie, do you recognize this?” He hurried over to the parking space and spotted the little rune on the asphalt written out in chalk, the potent scent of magic lingering in the air was enough to show this rune had recently been used, and he snapped a picture of it.

“Spell rune, no idea what it’s for but I think this might be the illusion source. I’m about seventy-nine percent sure that only magicians use runes though, not Mages or Witches.”

“Yea, it’s magicians. Why would a bunch of people from the Atelier be after selkie pups?”

Frankie scrolled through his contacts and glanced at Santiago, knowing that was the question of the hour. “No clue but I know there’s a magician that left the Atelier and went private security for Black Velvet. We’ll meet with them and see if they can give us a cause before we elevate this to the FBMI. We’ll have to get them and the Consortium to issue warrants for search.” You stared at him as Frankie sent the message out to Oberyn, the Incubus that ran Black Velvet wasn’t his favorite person to deal with but the man wasn’t nearly as shady as some lesser demons. He had already decided you weren’t going anywhere near the lust-demon, part of what made Oberyn hard to tolerate was his natural tendency to flirt and that instinctive part of him that recognized you as mate would be too quick to attack if the incubus tried anything with you.

Will’s feeling of victory radiated through the bond, allowing them to see the SUV appearance change as it finally got out of range of the rune, and Frankie offered you a grin of reassurance. “Your idea to ask the other selkie pod for help was genius; we wouldn’t have gotten any of this without it.” He watched your nose wrinkle as a shy sort of expression took over, he knew you were ready to deny it because he could feel it plain as day, so he made sure to push a little more. “Really, there’s a big chance that we’ll save all of the missing pups because of you. I’ll walk you back to your pod and the guys can wait here for Will.” You nodded slowly and he met Tom’s gaze as the other wolf’s aura flared, a warning for making that sort of call, but Frankie didn’t care.

He wasn’t putting you in danger by bringing you along to case out whatever place Will followed the other vehicle to or making you wait around the boardwalk on your own, and Huntress forbid he let you walk back alone. Tom’s aura was almost stifling and Frankie pushed back with just as much power, knowing that if Tom’s mate were on the line he’d do the same thing, and it was Santiago’s sharp growl that broke the little stand-off. “Get walking, Fish, that way you can hurry back once she’s safe. We will let you know what we find.” Frankie nodded and led you up toward the road, feeling the dangerous edge to Tom’s aura still lurking around him, but you were too busy looking at him with visible concern.

“Is- does Tom hate me or something? It seems like I’m a problem-“

“No it’s not- he’s pissed at me. It’s complicated and it’s kind of a heavy topic to talk about so I’d like to table it for now, if that’s okay, but it’s not you at all.”

You studied him as the pair of you walked and finally nodded. “Alright, I’ll ignore the pissing contest then, I swear he’s as bad as any bull I’ve met.” Relief that you were willing to let it go made Frankie feel a little lighter, you’d finally let go of his hand to tuck yours into the pockets of your coat and he took the time to study it. Pale blue-gray with darker spots, he could see that it was sleek fur and not just a flat fabric, and your little chuckle made him look up to see you watching him. “Here, satisfy your curiosity.” You offered your arm and he blinked when he realized you were letting him touch your pelt, he hesitated but did reach up to run his fingertips along the sleeve of your pelt going with the direction of the fur.

He watched you shiver and drew his hand back. “You can… feel it?” He felt a little out of his depth here and you offered a nod.

“It’s like… a phantom touch on my arm even though you only touched the fur. Like you were grazing your fingertips like this.” You took his hand and skated the very tips of your fingers so gently along the back of his hand, it made his own hair stand on end from how light the touch was, and Frankie nodded gently in understanding. “You really think you’ll find the pups?” He nodded without a scrap of hesitation, wanting to be as positive as he could for you, and he felt the relief as plain as day.

The fact that he was beginning to feel your emotions, and clearly, meant you were open to the idea of a bond with him.

“So, uh, do you always hang out in the pier district? Or have you ventured out in the rest of the city?” He felt a little silly but with how big Se’Kvia was it was entirely possible you’d lived your whole life down by the docks, especially given that you were a selkie.

Your little chuff of amused laughter made him smile. “Mostly I stay in the pier district, but I do have a friend Bryn that lives in the shopping district since she owns a boutique on the main stretch, I’ve stayed at her place plenty of times to get away from the pod when I need to.” He nodded and a comfortable silence filled the air, his senses on alert even as the hotel came into view, and Frankie had to bite his cheek when he spotted a rather large man walking over calling your name in a familiar way.

He choked back the growl that built in his chest when the man looped a fatty arm around your shoulder, only mildly appeased by the look of disdain on your face when the man looked away from you. “You must be one of the detectives? I’m Gavin, thank you for looking for my kids.” A moment settled where he digested the comment, the brazen tone and smug smirk, and the wolf felt his eyes dart to you in a single instant.

“Kids? All three are yours?”

He had to be sure. It felt like some sort of nightmare.

“Yes, I’m the alpha bull so I have the right to claim any of the cows in the pod as part of my harem.”

Frankie felt the urge to scream tear through him, the sheer challenge that was being sparked sending his pulse rocketing.

“More like you force yourself on them and the Elders make them obey the old rite of claim. I’m not yours, get off me.”

Your tone was sharp and there was a mixed blend of relief and horror in his chest, relief that you weren’t involved and horror knowing that you weren’t safe here. “You say that now, wait until this breeding season. Eventually you have to settle in with someone.” Frankie’s growl slipped out of him before he could stop it, earning the attention of the bull, and your eyes shimmered with something like pleading.

“That’s her choice, not yours.”

The man stood up to his full height, letting his arm fall away from you, and Frankie felt the sharp sting of threat and danger rising up as he snarled. It was a dangerous combination with you standing too close to a challenging male, your worry for his safety and disdain for the other male making his instincts to scare off the competing party bubble up to the forefront, and he felt the way Santiago and Will tried for calm while Benny’s nerves shot up and Tom’s anger spiked. They were trying to get him to relax but when the bull took a step closer there was no way in the Huntess’ name he’d ever be able to willingly step back.

“Gavin!”

A sharp crack sounded and your relieved whisper of Nana made Frankie look to see the very petite old selkie, the wrinkles of age and experience in her face set around too-large eyes and a larger flatter nose making her look wizened and like someone who had lived a fulfilling life, and in her hand was a large wooden cooking soon that she’d cracked across the bull’s forearm. “You go on and march your blubbery butt inside, now, this man is currently doing our pod a service and you’ll not be threatening him like a disrespectful little upstart.” The bull did as he was ordered with a grumbling hiss and Frankie looked at the older selkie.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Oh, he’s polite, I like this one. Call me Nana.”

The way her eyes shimmered and her lips turned up proved to Frankie that this old lady was a lot more observant and likely more knowledgeable of other were-kin, than the rest of her pod. “Of course, thank you Nana. I need to get back to the others so we can- we’ve got a lead. Are you going to be okay?” Your surprised expression shifted to something touched, fond even as you nodded, and he changed forms to ensure he got back to the others before Will did with the truck.

He knew it was somewhat grotesque, the way his jaw lengthened and his muscles stretched and his bones popped, but you only looked impressed; he had done a full shift, rather than a half shift, so he was all wolf now but even he knew that he was one of the largest males in Se’Kvia. Your hand touched his ruff gently, fingers sliding into his thick coat, and you leaned down to press your forehead to the space between his ears. “Thank you, Frankie. Go on now.” His tail wagged and he took off before he got too much shit from the others.

They had a lead, a trail, and he was going to make sure you knew that he was more than determined to win your heart once he brought your nieces and nephew home.

[sevlgi]

bubblegum pop

requested: no

group: twice

pairing: sana x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: rich girl!sana, college!au, cashier!reader.

warnings: none

synopsis: An unfortunately hostile encounter with the school’s sweetest rich girl might just lead to more than you ever expected.

a/n: inspired by @pearicot​‘s mean girl rosie series! (by the way, i’m not trying to feed into the “dumb sana” stereotype with this; i just thought that her personality fitted the character i was trying to achieve! does anyone wanna request continuations or scenarios in this universe 👀

word count: 3.3k

Something about Mondays the week of finals always got you in a bad mood, especially when you had  to work double shifts at the same stupid ice cream shop you’d worked at for the past 2 years of college. 

So maybe, just maybe, there was reasoning behind you snapping at the love of your life during your first meeting.

Actually, there really, really wasn’t.

There were plenty of mean girls on campus who you wouldn’t regret yelling at whatsoever, but you just happened to blow up at one of the considerably nicer rich girls.

Minatozaki Sana didn’t mean anything bad when she innocently held out a hundred dollar bill to pay for a $5 ice cream. She didn’t mean to seem pretentious, nor did she mean to mock you and your minimum-wage job, but you just so happened to take it that way.

“Really? You have to rub it in my face like that?”

Sana stared at you, the money that she held out wavering in the ear. “Sorry?”

Pinching the space between your eyebrows, you huffed out an exasperated breath. Luckily, there was no one else in the shop about to witness the stupidest meltdown of your life. “You think I don’t know that I’m poor? It’s five dollars for God’s sake, no need to bring out the big guns. Oh, or are you doing this to avoid seeming more pretentious with your daddy’s black card?”

The brunette’s hand retreated quickly, the heels of her Louboutins clacking softly against the pastel-toned linoleum of the ice cream shop. Fuck, you hated that linoleum. “I... I didn’t mean any of that, I swear! Um, is there an ATM near here?”

Once again, the girl meant well, and you took it badly. You scoffed, glaring disbelievingly at her. Some part of you was screaming out that you were putting your entire job at stake, and your morals as well, but you disregarded any common sense remaining in your brain. “An ATM for 5 bucks? Dude, just don’t.” Dipping your hand into the tip jar, you scrounged out a lousy crumpled bill and threw it down on the counter, shoving the bubblegum-flavored sweet to Sana. “Okay? Now get out, I don’t want to see your privileged ass anywhere near here.”

The dense gray clouding your mind somehow missed the hurt expression on the girl’s face as the staff door swung open. Wendy’s hands, though gentle on your shoulders, shoved you behind her with surprising force. “I am so sorry, Sana, it’s finals week. Surely you can understand? The ice cream’s on the house.”

“No, of course it’s okay!” Sana sounded genuine enough, that was for sure; you caught her glancing worriedly at you a couple times, nothing malicious whatsoever in her eyes. “I can pay though, are you sure?”

“I’m sure. See you in class,” Wendy called out, smiling all the while until the girl disappeared into the Lamborghini parked by the curb. As soon as that happened, she turned back to you, concern tugging at the corner of her lips. “Y/N...”

“Yeah, I know,” you mumbled as you crossed your arms. Already, you were regretting what you said, though you were far too stubborn to actually apologize on the spot. “No arguing with customers about capitalism. Sorry, Wendy.”

The girl bit her lip, scanning the store to make sure that there wasn’t about to be an influx of customers. Usually she enjoyed working with you; you just had absolutely terrible mood swings sometimes, and those days were nothing short of hellish for her to deal with. “Just head home. Focus on your finals, and come back next week. Okay?”

You hesitated to agree, knowing that you needed the money, but the grim expression on Wendy’s face told you that you had no other option. “Okay. Sorry.”

As you snatched up your stuff and shoved the door to the street open, you missed the sight of Sana watching you through the tinted windows of her 6-figure car.

“Really? Sana?”

“I know,” you groaned, biting down on the plastic spoon in your mouth. The flavor of the month (the only one you could eat completely free) lingered unpleasantly on your tongue, the taste of it oddly salty. “She was so nice about it, too.”

Jeongyeon and Mina exchanged glances, not touching their respective cups of “Ocean Caramel” either. It was extremely kind of them to come and accompany you on the slow days, both of them even offering to suffer through the gross ice cream with you.  “If it was Park Roseanne I might understand, but Sana,” Mina winced. Jeongyeon nodded in agreement; after all, everyone on campus knew about the reputations of Roseanne and Sana.

On one end of the “rich girl” spectrum, Roseanne was quite possibly the bitchiest one of all. She and her Bugatti Veyron, the college upgrade from her old McLaren, absolutely weren’t to be messed with. People who went to high school with you often told story of the G Wagon she smashed, the locker room she lit on fire, and so many other horror tales of a spoiled girl gone wild. You were sure that had you gone off on her, even Wendy wouldn’t have stopped you.

But on the other end, Sana was notoriously kind. Sure, her family raked in an income close to that of the other girl’s, and her wardrobe was just as expensive, but she made a point to donate to charities every time she went shopping. She tipped in the hundreds, and she didn’t ever ask for her designer clothes back when she lent them to strangers. She paid any dinner bill in full when she was there, and sometimes even when she wasn’t invited.

No one was entirely sure about the relationship between the two, but Roseanne seemed to hate Sana more than she did other people. The two fought publicly occasionally, but Sana’s kind heart made it so that even Roseanne couldn’t carry a fight very long. She didn’t respond to insults, it seemed, nor did she ever seem to actually take them personally. 

Stirring her half-melted soup, Mina continued, “Hopefully she doesn’t hold it against you. She doesn’t seem like the type, but...”

Jeongyeon shook her head, opening her mouth just as the doorbell rang. You froze when you looked up to find a designer-dressed bombshell, a sweet smile outlined in Chanel Rouge Allure. She looked completely out of place amidst tired college kids spending their last paycheck on ice cream, white gauzy sleeves and blue dress shimmering under LED lights. If you were being honest, you’d say that she was the most beautiful person you’d seen in your life, but you were always well versed in lying to yourself. “Y/N, you better go.”

“Why?” you whined, pouting at your much more responsible friends. They ignored your puppy face, though; Jihyo was usually the only one you could sway, Momo sometimes if she was feeling merciful. “I’m on break.”

“Only when there’s no customers,” Mina argued, shoving you to stand. Jeongyeon smiled at you, waving you away. “Go, and don’t screw it up this time.”

You forced a smile onto your face when you reached the counter, bowing and adjusting your name tag. “Hi, what can I help you with today?”

“Hi, Y/N!” Sana grinned, bowing back. The fact that she remembered your name only made your guilt worse; if she forgot who you were, you could at least pretend that she didn’t remember the incident at all. “Ah, could I have the same thing as last time? Bubblegum Pop ice cream, on a sugar cone today. 3 scoops?”

Nodding, you moved to open the case, avoiding the girl’s gaze as you did. “Of course.” She was quiet at that, staring at the ceiling so as not to rush you. Without prompting, you blurted, “I’m... I’m really sorry about last week, by the way. I don’t know what I was thinking, blowing up at you like that.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay!” she protested, waving a manicured hand in the air. “I promise I understand you. We all have our bad days.”

You wanted to apologize again, if just to assuage your guilt, but you held off on it, joking, “How do you deal with them? Yell at Gucci assistants?”

Sana looked honestly offended as she accepted the cone proffered to her, eyes widening in shock. “I’ve never done that, I swear! Besides, I don’t like Gucci much.”

A light smile quirking at the corners of your lips, you handed the receipt to her as well. She didn’t ask for it, probably not caring about the measly price or having the space for it in her tiny bag, but took it anyway. “I’m sure you don’t. Your total is $5.23, will that be cash or card?”

“Cash!” She held out a 10 dollar bill, pride shining behind that gorgeous face as you raised your eyebrows in surprise. When your hands brush together, you were reminded of how much better she was than you, how you probably weren’t worthy at all to be touching her with your shop-issued baseball cap and grimy apron. But Sana doesn’t seem to mind, still smiling that airy smile at you and not moving away. She broke your stare by offering, “I don’t want to sound rude, but keep the change.”

“Not rude at all,” you fully laughed that time, dishing out the remainder to stuff in your tip jar. You still felt terrible that she felt the need to apologize about such a normal comment, asking, “Are you sure it’s okay? You can have this one free too, if it makes up for me shouting at you...”

Sana shook her head, sugary light pink already mixing into her lipstick. She walked away, still waving with that gorgeous smile on her face. “It’s okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N, you look really pretty today!”

Turning back to your friends, you whispered, “Damn. She’s really nice.”

You planned on spending your one day off from school and work cozied up with a good book and your favorite hot drink, but you supposed that getting into a fight with Park Roseanne wasn’t the worst way to go either.

As soon as you entered campus, book in hand and blasting music in your earbuds, you found a crowd of at least 3 dozen people right in front of the library building. It was unlike you to butt into others’ business, especially when it might lead to a ruined day, but Roseanne’s voice carried loud over the hushed whispers of everyone else. “--huh, Sana?”

It wasn’t any of your business, but for some reason, Roseanne’s tone when saying Sana’s name angered you immensely. Frowning, you shouldered your way through the crowd. The closer you got to the center, the more expensive the clothing that brushed against your own rough jean jacket was, cotton and leather becoming silk and velvet. You originally planned to just fit in with the other spectators, but with a shove at the small of your back, you were thrust into the center too.

To your shock, Sana’s eyes were red and shining with tears, the tip of her nose cherry-colored as well. Her head was almost bowed as she stared at her shoes, but she looked up to you when you almost bumped into her. You stuttered out, “H-hey. What’s going on?”

Instead of an explanation from the Japanese girl, though, your gaze was drawn to the blonde across the courtyard. “Didn’t you hear? Little Miss Perfect here got broken up with,” Roseanne scoffed, an infuriating smirk on her perfect face as she tilted her head at you. “By a future CEO, no less. I guess she isn’t a gold-digger, or maybe there’s some other reason that he didn’t want her anymore.”

Your hand shot out to protect Sana, a scowl making its way onto your own face. “Excuse me? From my standpoint, any future CEO is still way outta her league, so forgive me for doubting that he’s the one who didn’t want her. You’re the one dating someone who makes a tenth of what you do.”

Roseanne rolled her eyes, lips thinning. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that, Y/L/N, or you’ve got another thing coming. There aren’t many lesbians in this damn school.”

“You know me, don’t you?” Sana’s voice was wavering as she spoke, but it was strong enough to echo in the courtyard. To your surprise (and somewhat satisfaction), the blonde  girl’s eyes widened as Sana stood forward, her lips jutting forward. “That’s why I’m not dating him anymore. I like girls, too.”

Somehow, you’d never expected that Sana was attracted to girls, but it made perfect sense. An irrational part of you wanted to cheer, but instead, you forced yourself to speak.

“R-right.” You continued to glare at Roseanne, who finally seemed to be speechless. “Yeah, so how come you’re tearing Sana down? We should be supporting each other, but you’re being so rude to someone so kind, and that says all I need to know about you.”

Reaching out, you latched onto Sana’s upper arm and pulled her out of the circle, people parting to let the two of you through as Roseanne wasn’t able to conjure up something to respond with. You didn’t stop walking until there was only silence surrounding you under the shade of a swaying tree, finally stopping to let the girl sit. “Are you okay?” you asked, brow furrowed as you knelt to be mostly face-level with her.

Somehow, there was a smile on her face; a slightly snotty smile, but nonetheless the most beautiful one you’d ever seen in your life. You ignored the uncomfortable leap of your heart when you reached out to take her hands into your own, somehow forgetting about the hostility you’d felt towards her from the beginning. “You- you stood up for me.”

“Yeah. I did, I guess,” you shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’m sure that was rough, though, to come out. How’re you feeling?”

“Honestly, much better,” Sana sighed. She leaned back, fingers curling slightly around yours as the afternoon sun shone golden brown in the locks of hair spread out on her shoulders. “It was good to get it off my chest. I didn’t even know you were into girls, you know.”

Reaching up to scratch your head, you chuckled, “Well, I am, if it makes you feel any better. What happened between the two of you, by the way? She seems to hate you so much.”

The girl laughed, as bubbly and airy as her regular voice. “I may or may not have dated her girlfriend before. But it was a long time ago, and I’m still friends with her! Roseanne just can’t forgive me.”

You feigned shock, swatting at her arm. “How terrible of you! I’m so disappointed.”

You were stuck simply smiling at each other for a good minute or so before you looked away, picking at your shoelace for something to do. “So. Uh, Roseanne knew the whole time?”

“She did,” Sana confirmed, nodding. “She just never talked about it.”

“Well, it’s good to know that she isn’t the only other one in the school with me,” you sighed, sitting back on your heels.

Sana lurched back forward, hands clasping together at her chest. “Then we should celebrate! We can go shopping or something, and we can just be happy that we aren’t alone anymore.”

It suddenly struck you how quickly you could change the girl’s entire outlook, a smile coming onto her face with no effort from you whatsoever. But even more surprising, you smiled even larger than she did just looking at her. 

Laughing, you sat back on your heels and shook your head lightly. Seeming to take it as a rejection, Sana’s eyes widened. “Oh, only if you want to, of course! We can go wherever you want, we don’t even have to go shopping if you don’t want to!”

“No, we can go shopping,” you answered, reaching back over to squeeze her hand and pulling her up with you when you stood. “Come on, then. Let’s go celebrate.”

Sana wasn’t a great driver, but you didn’t expect much else. You were practically sick to your stomach by the time that you reached the mall, face green as you swayed out of the car.

“Ah, Y/N, I’m sorry!” Her hands rubbed lightly at your back as you squatted in the parking lot, fist held tight to your mouth. It wasn’t like you were actually going to throw up, but you didn’t want to risk ruining the girl’s expensive shoes. “I’ll let you drive next time.”

Next time? you wanted to ask. But you managed to stand, nodding quickly to ease Sana’s worry. “Yeah. It’s fine, I’m fine. Should we go?”

Immediately, she latched onto your hand, swinging between the two of you as she started to rush forward. “H-hey, lock your car first!”

Sana had unsurprisingly expensive tastes, but also surprisingly understated ones. She was fun to shop with, that was for sure- she loved to offer you clothes and also to offer to pay for them, but you didn’t necessarily hate a pretty girl telling you you’d look gorgeous in a certain sparkly dress.

She didn’t do any of the typical stuck-up things you expected her to- Sana carried her own bags, and she never forced you to follow her instead of doing what you wanted to. She did like to try on outfits and show them to you, but that could be ignored when it was just another opportunity for you to stare at her.

Eventually, you ended up having ice cream at one of the stores in the mall. You balked at the price, but Sana swiped her credit card without hesitation. “I have to admit, this bubblegum doesn’t taste as good as yours,” she pouted.

Chuckling, you savored the rich flavor on your own tongue. “You should’ve picked an expensive flavor then. Vanilla and chocolate are always good in these kinds of stores.”

“You know a lot about ‘these kinds of stores’ for someone who claims to be poor,” she teased, eyes widening as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you smiled, leaning on your palm. “I’m good with it, since we’re friends now.”

Sana grinned at that, her eyes curving charmingly. “We’re friends? Most people don’t want to be friends with me, I’m really glad you’re willing to.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Looking down for once, the girl mumbled, “They say I’m dumb. You know that everyone says I’m nice, but they also think I’m dumb because I pay for everything. I just want to be kind, but no one takes me seriously.”

A wave of guilt rushed over you for previously feeding into the stereotype. The more time you spent with Sana, the more you realized that she was as brilliant as any other, and far more kind. “Well, that’s stupid. You are kind, Sana, and you’re amazing. I’m lucky to be your friend.”

She clasped your hand over the table, soft skin warm over yours, pink flushing in her pale cheeks. “Thank you, Y/N. You know, this is the best time I’ve had in a while. My boyfriend didn’t even listen to me this well,” she laughed.

Despite the fact that she treated it as a joke, you felt horrible. She was all too used to thinking the worst about herself and not believing that she was worth any better, and that was the worst possible thing you could imagine for a girl with a heart of gold. Jabbing your spoon into the remaining ice cream, you blurted, “Then go on a date with me. A proper one, not just a normal hangout like this.”

Sana instantly blushed, looking down as if it’d hide her face at all. But she missed the heat that rose to your cheeks too, the nervous biting of your lip as you waited for a response. “I would love nothing more,” she smiled, her eyes shining brilliantly. “And I can’t wait.”

[flying-nightwing]

Throne of Blood (2/3)

It’s ya local simp back again with the praise/devotion kink sweating out of this series in waterfalls. I set this on three parts, and potentially a bonus chapter *wink wink*. 

This is still marked NSFW for the same reasons as part 1, so minors still DNI

Part 1 in masterlist (Bio + pinned)

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader x Roy Harper

Word count: 4919

Warnings: Same as part 1 babes

“I still don’t believe it”

The sky was clear and the sun was high, reflecting on the crystal white of the snow covering the land. A cold wind blew over the western watchtower, reddening Roy’s cheeks in a similar tint to his coat. He looked down to you and grinned. 

“Say what you may,” He replied, pulling slightly the string of his bow twice. “I’m hitting that target, darling”

“So smug” You sighed, twirling the arrow in your fingers before handing it to him. “Let’s see, my dear. One chance, gotta hit the mark”

He only winked and armed his bow, carefully drawing his bowstring. He paused there and closed his eyes, feeling the force of the wind and calculating his aiming angles. You could see in the distance the Wayne Kingdom’s guarding post and a small dot pacing around. Roy reopened his eyes and angled his bow to the right, then up. As he breathed out, he let the string go. 

First thing you knew, the little dot fell over the ledge of the tower.

“I…” You mumbled, your jaw going just a bit slack. You couldn’t stop staring at the guard post. 

“That’s right!” He laughed, pumping his fist in the air. “I told ya I was gonna make it”

“Well, I know to admit when I’m beaten” You sighed again, looking back at him. His eyes were shining with pride and mischief. “How many golds did I owe you again? 4?”

“Mhh, forget the gold” His cold hand trailed up your neck to rest behind your ear, tangled in your hair. “That baffled expression on your face is more than enough to satisfy my ego” 

“Are you sure?” You teased further, letting him invade your personal space. “Your ego is pret-ty big sometimes”

“You’re right” He breathed out, rubbing your temple he was so close to you, his lips were almost on yours. “Maybe there is something you could do for me after all”

“Name it” You said, smiling. “I owe you one, after all”

He didn't answer, only closed the short distance between you two. His cold, chapped lips met yours in a soft kiss as his other hand snaked around your waist. You could feel his bow digging into your back, but you didn’t care. Your hands went around his neck to pull him even closer to you, letting him shield you from the harsh wind. He was so warm, you wanted to stay against him for hours more. 

“Did we ever do it on the western tower?” He asked as he pulled back to breathe. 

“On the south tower, we did” You nodded, panting. “There was also this one time with Jason on the north balc-- Fuck”

Your eyes shut as he bit the skin of your neck, then sucked on it. “So we never did it on this watchtower” He hummed against you. “Right, because that guard definitely had a field glass. But now he can’t spy on us” 

“My Lord, my Lady”

You shut your eyes, trying so hard not to snap at the boy. You could never have a moment of intimacy in this castle, it seemed. Roy recomposed himself first, straightening his back and facing him. He didn’t even look shameful or bashful at all, instead, he was pretty relaxed. 

“Yes?”

“His Majesty requires your presence in the throne room” He said, his cheeks slightly pink in embarrassment. “It seemed pretty urgent”

You both shared a concerned glance. Without another word, you swerved passed the boy and walked straight to the throne room. You were a bit far, but you believed you set your record on how fast you could cross the entire castle. Your strides were long and purposeful, and your hands were not far from your weapons.

You ended up in the large room sooner than later, your eyes scanning for any imminent danger. Instead, you found a small crowd of seven people in front of the throne’s pedestal. One of the men caught your attention--and everyone else’s probably--by his looks alone. Tall, dark hair, wide blue eyes and one stunning armor. The blue bird on his chest contrasted the black of the armor, sticking out from the silver gray of his guards. His posture was tensed, but not as much as Jason’s on the throne. You and Roy slowly took your place on his side, finally making you be seen by the handsome man. His eyes found Roy first, and they exchanged a long glance. Then, it was your turn. He studied you for a moment before he turned to Jason again. 

“Listen, I don’t want any trouble” He said, holding his hands up. “I’m only here to warn you”

“You could have sent another message if it was that important” Jason sneered. So this was his brother.

“Jason, I’m serious” He rubbed his nose. “Father is done and through with this will he won’t he. He is determined to stop you”

“Let him come” He snorted. “I know his every move, Dick. He can’t touch me”

“He knows that,” He argued, frustrated. “That’s why he issued capture warrants for both of them, effective as we speak”

Jason froze as his brother pointed at you and Roy. His face betrayed no emotion, but you knew a sensitive chord had been hit. You didn’t like how his own father tried to hurt him that way, and it made you angry. How dare he try and hurt your Jason. 

“He’s not gonna kill us” Roy spoke, but even he had a subtle uncertainty in his voice. The mighty King Wayne didn’t kill, but this moral guideline might have wavered if Jason had pushed him far enough. 

“He won’t” Dick replied. “But it doesn’t mean pain won’t be involved”

“If he even tries, I’ll kill him myself” Jason grumbled. “He’s not ready for--”

It happened fast. Your attention was divided in between the two brothers, so much that you failed to do a visual sweep of the room. You missed the two shadows on the higher balcony, or the draw of a bow that was aimed in your direction. It was the quiet sound of the arrow flying through the air that tipped you off, making you turn on the side by instinct to protect yourself. You felt the sharp steel of the tip pierce your shoulder--instead of your heart--and you fell on your knee. Before you could touch the ground, Roy fired and dropped the two shadows from the balcony before they could shoot anyone else. In a blink, Jason was over you and Dick was barking orders to his men to stand down. 

Then came your scream of pain.

“Hey, hey, look at me” Jason called, bringing your attention to him. Your breathing was shallow and you wanted to pass out from the pain. You could feel the arrow tear and burn your flesh at every muscle contraction, and the hot blood slowly and steadily flow down your back. “You’ll be okay. Don’t pass out just yet, stay with me” 

“I’m sorry” You rasped out in between two shallow breaths. You were pretty sure the arrow had been barbed by the pain that was pulsing through your entire upper body. "I didn't see him sooner. That was a rookie mistake"

“No, this is on me, not you” Jason’s beautiful face was twisted with guilt. “I-- I didn’t see him, I should have known-- Fuck”

His hands started trembling around the arrow he was holding steady. His hands were red already and you were getting drowsy; you had no more feeling in your right hand already, your entire arm hanging limp from your body. Black dots veiled your vision that was becoming blurry by the second, only dissipated for an instant when Roy appeared in front of you. 

“Dick and Commander Garret got it” He told Jason before holding your head in his hands, forcing you to focus your attention on him. “You’ll be fine, but we need to move you. It’s gonna hurt. A lot”

“Can’t be worse” You joked, your voice slightly slurred and your smile resembling a grimace more than anything else. His expression turned sorry while he offered you back a pity smile. Oh, it would be a lot worse. 

And he was right. They lifted you easily, both their strength more than enough to support you, and carefully made their way to the side room. You bit your cheek hard enough to draw blood so you wouldn't scream again with every step they took. There, with one swipe of his arm, Jason threw everything off the stone table in the middle of the room, sending flying some probably priceless items on the floor. He didn’t care. They laid you face down, then rushed to stop the blood flow.

“The doctor is on her way” You heard Roy say as you felt fabric pressed around the shaft of the arrow. You tuned in and out of the conversation, unable to keep focus on their voices for more than a few seconds at the time. A nap seemed so good right now.

“How did we not see them--”

“Don’t start blaming yourself again--”

“Well, it’s pretty much my fault if--”

“Jay, we are your guards, we knew--”

“Still! I’m the one who’s supposed to--”

“If you want me to take out this arrow, you’ll need to stop arguing and start helping me--”

“Yes ma’am”

“Sorry ma’am”

Some doctor she was. If only you could see their faces. You felt them working around you, something cold on your skin, followed by the arrow being pulled out of your shoulder. At this point, everything felt the same. Your pain was just everywhere, but now you knew at least the arrow was out. You heard the doctor shoo out Jason and Roy, then you passed out.

---

The tremble in Jason’s hands went away when Roy closed the door of the room behind them. His eyes turned as hard as steel as he faced the throne room, and without looking back, went straight for it. All heads in the room turned at the sound of him coming in again, and he had an idea why they kept staring. Your blood was still on his arms, reddening his skin up to the elbow. His hair was a mess and his eyes read violence. He stopped in front of the still moving body of one of the assassins. Roy’s arrow went through his cheek, but he was still alive. He glanced briefly at the other body, still with two arrows in the throat, then back to the one at his feet. Nobody else dared to move, not Roy, not his brother, not the guards around him watching the scene unfold in front of them. 

Roy had a similar posture. Despite shooting in a reflex, his rage had left him guide his aim in the fire of the action. He had known in that split second that the man who fired the arrow didn’t deserve a quick death, that an arrow to the chest like his friend would be a mercy. Instead, he had gone for the painful shot that would leave him alive for the wolf the devour. Besides, it wouldn’t have been fair for Roy to have them both to himself.

Jason bent down and grabbed the man by the back of the neck, dragging him along with him. The man couldn’t talk, only moan in pain as he was forced to follow Jason’s angry pace. Roy wasn’t far behind, eager to see what would happen next. Jason wasn’t a predictable man, especially not when angry. And now, it would be an understatement to say he was furious. 

Jason dragged the man through the room, then out of the castle and across the stone bridge. He stopped only when he was out of the fortified gates, where the towns citizens passing by eyed the scene with horror. A crowd gathered around, and Jason waited until there were enough people around to speak. He must have looked insane like this, bloody and disheveled, unhinged and on the edge. He usually wouldn’t have gone in public like this, but he needed to pass a message. 

“This man has committed a crime against the crown” He began, and silence fell over the crowd. The man writhed in his hand, but he was too weak to escape the iron grip on his neck. “He snuck into the castle and attempted to kill my personal guard and advisor under a mandate issued by a neighboring Kingdom. If anyone has any idea to follow in his footsteps, this is what will happen. No one trying to claim the bounty will end up any better than him. Somebody fetch me a rope. A sturdy one”

It didn’t take time for one of the guards to come back with a thick rope and give it to him. He kicked the man down and held him there with his foot, ignoring his moans of pain as he worked on a noose. He looped it around the man’s neck and pulled him back on his feet. The sound of his sword sliding out of its sheath was deafening, and even more so the footsteps he took to stand in front of the man. 

“Death is too kind for your crime” He muttered. “But it’s what you’ll get today, because I don’t want to see your face ever again. Tell the devil I said hi when he pulls out your guts”

With a quick movement of his sword, he sliced his stomach deep enough for his insides to spill on the pavement. Jason stood there, watching him for a minute before he walked away. He only paused when he was shoulder to shoulder with his guard.

“Hoist him up the gate” He instructed, but there was no place for arguments and the boy knew it. “So he can serve as an example for the rest of them”

Then he kept walking. 

---

“Your progress is impressive”

You looked up from the gourd you were drinking from, your chest still rising quickly after the effort you just made. You had stopped outside a little road town and set camp in the woods. Like always, you’d take an hour or two to train with Jason. You had a lot to learn to even get close to an acceptable gap between your skills and theirs, but they were patient with you. 

“Thanks” You nodded as you closed the gourd again. Night was setting in soon, announcing the end of today’s training session. 

“I think you are ready to choose a weapon of your own” He said as he put back his sword in its sheath. “One’s choice of weapon is personal, and it can be quite telling about its wielder”

“Choose a bow and arrows” Roy called as he came back from the woods, dinner in hand. He had caught four rabbits and a bird. “There’s nothing quite like it”

“See, Roy chose a bow,” Jason explained further. “This tells us that he’s an idiot”

You laughed as Roy rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Ha ha” He laughed dryly. “You’d look like a clown if I wasn’t your long shot”

“I’m not gonna choose a bow” You shook your head, chuckling. “I’ll leave the exclusivity to you”

You turned around as they kept bickering, looking over to the small bunch of weapons your party carried. Swords, curved blades, barbed sticks and one sharp looking spear were staring back at you, but nothing caught your eyes. That was until you spotted the two bodies laying a few paces away from your camp, reminding you of the two mercenaries who tried to ambush you earlier to catch the reward for your heads. Tried being the keyword, because the two amateurs had no idea who they went up against. Despite their sharp battle axes, they were taken down in a blink. You wandered toward them and picked up the two weapons beside them, then came back.

“I want these ones”

They both turned to you, surprised by your choice. Jason stepped closer to you, gently pushing up your arm so he could have a good look at one of the axes. The double edge was kept sharp, and it seemed balanced. He looked back at you.

“Those are quite heavy weapons. Warrior type, devastating things” He hummed. “You need quite some strength to wield them precisely and inflict damage. Are you sure?”

“You think I can’t do it?” You raised your eyebrow in challenge. He smiled.

“Oh no, I know you can do it. I even think the axes will suit your style” He chuckled, holding your stare. “All I’m saying is you’ll need to put the work into it”

“I’m ready” You lifted your chin up. “I don’t want to feel powerless ever again”

“With these, you won’t” Roy said as he passed behind you. You could just hear the grin in his voice. “Whoever will stand in your way will have no idea what came for them”

---

Jason already hated meetings, but this one had been particularly long. Not only because he was worried for you, but because he was alone. Roy was with you, making sure nobody got to you while you recovered, which left Jason off to bear the entire meeting without at least his favourite people by his side. But it was crucial for him to be there, because it was when he decided the counter offensive to adopt. His troops had been sent across the border, blocking all the roads to his territory. No army could march in without being met with resistance. He was well aware he was escalating the tensions tenfold by doing that, but his father deserved everything that would come his way. 

The sky was cloudy, but the weather was nice for winter. He stepped outside, spotting the man in black and blue observing the frozen garden with little interest. At the sound of Jason approaching, Dick faced him. 

“Well, you got a grip of yourself quicker than I expected” He hummed, noticing the lack of blood on his hands and his combed hair. He had changed to his black and red armor, leaving behind more formal wear for the time being. “I’m surprised”

“Don’t be” Jason snorted as the two men began slowly walking side by side. “I am aware I have a duty that I must do, no matter what happens”

Dick eyed him without commenting on that matter. “I suppose I am not allowed to leave just yet”

Jason smiled without humor. “That’s right”

“You know I could easily escape on my own”

“And you know if you did I would drag you back here by the neck”

“Obviously” Dick rolled his eyes. “What about my men?”

“Escorted out of my territory with the soldiers who are heading east” He replied.

“Why are you doing this?”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Why, to make our dear father sweat a little” He shrugged. “His golden son close enough for me to strike down quickly if he even thinks of pulling that shit again”

Dick remained quiet for a moment, his head down. He was aware his brother was watching him, looking for any sign of guilt or responsibility in that matter. “You know I would have never let those men tag along with me, right?”

“Do I, now?” Jason hummed. “They used your presence here to sneak in. I’m sure you know how this looks like”

“Jason” Dick sighed. “I don’t want to see you fall. I might not agree with some things you do, but there is a reason I came here to warn you”

He didn’t answer.

“Besides, I would have never tried to hurt the woman you love. I wouldn’t have done that to you” He added. “To you and to Roy”

Jason’s head snapped up, his wide eyes setting on Dick. How did he know?

“It’s quite obvious. Both your reactions were one of love, and there is clearly no competition between you two. It wasn’t very subtle” Dick explained. “And no, you did not say that out loud, but your face did. You forget sometimes I know you both better than you want to admit it”

Jason sighed. Of course, Dick would see it instantly. It’s not like he was ashamed of his relationship, on the contrary, his staff already knew it all about it judging by the number of times they barged on them in compromising situations and he did not worry about them knowing. But he knew decorum frowned upon it and a lot of people who already had something against him would only use it to further their case. He wanted to protect his family more than anything. 

“You’re lucky to have them, and they’re lucky to have you” Dick spoke again after a moment. “I hope she’ll be okay”

“I hope she’ll be too, for your sake” Jason turned serious again.

“What does that mean?” He grew wary, straightening his back. Keeping him here was one thing, and he’d quietly stay if it could appease his brother to have him somehow prisoner, but he wasn’t sure he’d accept being threatened. 

“Whether or not it was voluntary, you brought those opportunists here” Jason didn’t back down. “If she doesn’t make it, I will rain hellfire on everything Bruce loves, starting by his most prodigal son”

The two men stared at each other in confrontation, shoulders squared and the tension so tight it could be cut with a knife. And that knife was apparently named Roy.

“I think it won’t be necessary,” Roy said carefully, breaking the heavy silence. “She has been awake for a few hours, the doctor is changing her bandages. You should go see her”

Jason looked in between both men, then nodded at Roy. “I guess you two have things to talk about. I’ll leave you to it”

He walked away without looking back, and instead focused his thoughts on you. His feet guided him to the infirmary while his mind was far away from this reality, spiraling down what ifs and worst case scenarios. He paused in front of the door, then knocked and pushed the door open. 

“Ah, King Jason” The doctor greeted as she washed her hands. “Just on time. I’ll leave you two in a second”

“Is she okay?” He asked.

“Ask her yourself” She smiled before wiping her hand on a rag and leaving.

You blinked slowly as the voices registered around you. You were feeling tired, but you wanted to stay awake a bit longer to speak to him as well. Roy had spent the majority of the day with you, well past sundown. You turned your head and smiled at him, easing just a bit of concern off his handsome features. 

“Hey” Your voice was weaker than usual, and you had no doubt you looked paler too. According to the doctor, it was possible to make a full recovery if nothing got infected before the wound healed at least a little bit. She’d have to check in inflammation as well, but it looked not so bad so far. 

Jason couldn’t help but smile back as he reached you and sat on the chair left beside the bed. He brushed hair away from your forehead with the back of his hand, relieved he couldn’t feel the heat of a fever coming out of you. “How are you feeling?”

“Just peachy” You chuckled, then flinched at the pain in your shoulder. “Ow”

“Take it easy” He soothed, caressing your uninjured shoulder. His touch was so comforting, you wished he’d never take his hand away. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner”

"S'okay" You replied. “I know you must have had a lot to do after this shit show” 

“Still” He sighed. “I should have just--”

“Don’t start blaming yourself” You frowned. “None of this was your fault. I don’t want to see this expression on your face anymore, now”

He snorted. “Roy said the same thing, you know?”

“Well, he was right” You smirked. “You should listen to him sometimes” 

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Of course you choose this time to gang up on me”

“I dreamed about you” You changed the subject before he could find a new way to blame himself. “Well, I don’t know if it was a dream or a vivid display of a memory. Everything was too hazy to make the distinction”

“What was it about?” He asked, rubbing his thumb in circles on your shoulder. 

“When I chose my axes” You answered. “It’s a good memory. It did make me feel better”

“If I recall correctly, it was also the first night I kissed you” His tone turned teasing. “First night Roy kissed you as well. Beside the fire as the summer began, right after wiping out the guild members on the edge of the Kingdom of Blüdhaven”

“Hmm, I recall we did more than just kiss”

The soft glow of the fire, three naked bodies intertwined as they moved in sync, breathless moans and wandering hands. Jason had to chase that perfect picture away from his mind before it could lead him somewhere inappropriate for the situation, no matter how he wanted to close his eyes again and let the memory play out in full. You did it on purpose, he knew that much, probably to cheer him up or pull his mind further away from the less than pleasant reality. 

“You’re going to kill me one day” He grunted, and you let out a little laugh, careful not to pull your stitches. Your hand found his and you squeezed it lightly, making him look down briefly at your locked fingers. He took a deep breath and sighed longly. 

“What’s on your mind?”

“Doesn’t matter” He shook his head, but you didn’t back down your stare. Finally, he caved. “The assassins. They’re dead, and the one that did this to you is… Well”

You could only imagine his death was nothing short of horrible and painful. You didn’t know if finding satisfaction in this made you a terrible person, but you took comfort in the fact that he suffered more than you did. You only wished you had been there to see it.

“But my father, I…” He gulped. “He’ll know what happened here. If he strikes, which will be most likely the case, I’ll need to be ready. He won’t take you, not on my watch”

“I won’t let him take me, or Roy for that matter, away from you” You reassured him. “I’ll be out of this bed in no time and back at your side, just watch”

A small smile stretched his lips. “Always the warrior spirit” He leaned down and kissed your head. His lips lingered on your skin and your eyes fluttered close to prolonged contact. “But you’ll need to take it slow to recover. You need not to rush for me”

“I’ll always rush for you, my King” 

You noticed the hitch in his breath and the adoration in his eyes. The crystal shine of tears gave them an innocent glow, one you rarely observed on his face but appreciated every single time you had the chance to. It was easy to forget how young he actually was under all the weight that has been put onto him, he always seemed so much older and stern. You reached your hand for his face despite every single of your muscle screaming against it, and he leaned into your touch, softly closing his eyes. He allowed himself to relax just then, finally convincing himself that you would be okay. You had this gift with him, how you always managed to sneak into his heart and mind and bring him peace. He had been bewitched from the moment he met you, he had known right then and there he was already yours. And the fact that this connection transferred so easily to Roy, that you could make equal space in your heart for both of them only amplified his affection for you. You were their missing piece, and he would do anything--anything for you. 

“How did I get so lucky?” He whispered, gently taking your hand on his cheek and kissing it. 

“It’s not luck” You smiled. “You took care of me when I needed you the most, I’m only returning the favor however I can”

“She’s quite a woman, isn’t she?” 

You and Jason looked up at the new voice joined in, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at Roy’s wide grin. He walked closer and gave Jason’s shoulder a little squeeze, sitting on the arm of his chair. Your shoulder hurt but now that you had them by your side, everything seemed better. 

“So, what are we going to do now?” He asked, eying you both. Jason took a deep breath, repeating Roy’s question in his head a few times. He didn’t have much time to think about something concrete, but it wasn't the ideas that were missing.

“Well, this seems to me as a pretty clear declaration of war” He said, slowly trailing his eyes from yours to Roy’s. “We should react accordingly, don’t you think?”

“Hit ‘em hard and fast at the source, won’t matter if they see it coming or not” Roy nodded in approbation. “This is what you were thinking, right?”

A sinister smirk appeared on Jason's lips. It was thrilling and frightening all the same, promising a terrible retribution. “My loves, we’re going to war”

[tinmunky]

Power Struggle

Found on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168498

No Galaxy for Old Men Series - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Characters & Parings: Fem!Shep/Zaeed Massani, Garrus Vakarian

Summary: Shepard and Zaeed iron out the kinks of their working relationship post Zorya

Rating: Mature for violence, language and innuendo - 1,431 words

Tags: Cannon typical violence, sexual tension, blood,

Audio Pairing: Black Strobe - Blood Shot Eyes

If you had asked Shepard where she would be two years after being inducted as the first human Spectre, she wouldn’t have said working with one cantankerous old man merc on some asshole mission in some god forsaken jungle. She definitely wouldn’t have fucking said dying for the Alliance she was now exiled from, or being reincarnated to work for Cerberus for that matter. Now that was a twist! The so-called afterlife is funny like that, but beggars can’t be choosers where being brought back from the dead is concerned.

From the moment Shepard laid eyes on Zaeed Massani on Omega, she knew he was gonna be more trouble than he was worth. Arrogant, hot tempered, brash. But Cerberus paid a hefty price for his cooperation, and the several missions he had already accompanied her on proved him as a valuable asset in combat and merc intel.

Being dead does change a few things though. Your temper is a helluva lot shorter for one. Your moral black and white becomes a whole lot more gray. Your ability to run an effective PR campaign pretty much flies out the airlock. But the biggest change, you have no problem cutting septic situations out of the equation. Everything seems a bit clearer like that. You’ve died, you don’t have time for bullshit.

Massani’s scorched earth policy when it came to his personal vendetta was problematic. Through half-truths and manipulation he FUBARed the Zorya mission and put innocent bystanders at risk. That was something Shepard, new or old, would not tolerate.

So here she was standing over a volatile bundle of real fucking angry, giving him the there is no “I” in “team” speech.

“You put your own goals ahead of the mission, that is not is the way this works. “

Zaeed scoffed “I’ve survived this long watching my own back. No time to worry about anyone else.”

Obviously the gravity of the situation had not dawned on him yet. Shepard raised her weapon to his head

“You’re part of a team now Zaeed, there is no way we can do this unless we’re all working together”

He twisted under the weight of the concrete pylon, quickly assessing the situation. Massani wasn’t always the only one who made it out alive for no reason. He was smart. He knew when to hedge his bets and when to fold. And this was a folding situation.

“You, you have a point. I’m not done with Vido but I can put that behind me long enough to get your mission done. Let’s get the hell outta here”

Shepard thumbed the safety and released the breath she was holding. She also wasn’t in the business of wasting assets, no matter how irritating they were.

The Kodiak ride back to the Normandy was tense to say the least. Garrus knew the Commander as well as anyone. She was weighing how best to manage the still simmering situation. He leaned quietly against the bulkhead. Head bowed, arms folded across his chest plate and waited. He could feel the white hot anger flowing off of Zaeed, and he was sure she could too.

Shepard sat with her elbows braced on knees and hands clasped. She lifted her head and studied Zaeed’s face. For a lot longer than most would find comfortable. He stared right back. Never flinching, never looking away.

And they sat like that, staring each other down. For. The. Whole. Ride.

Even Garrus felt the barely controlled urge to fidget. As the Cerberus Kodiak docked into the hold of the Normandy, Garrus quickly slid to the hatch and mashed the release. Out before the oppressive atmosphere crushed him.

In a show of supreme confidence Shepard put her back to Massani and stepped out first.

Shepard handed her gear to a waiting crew member for stowage and strode to the elevator. She needed to get the smell of burning chemicals off her skin. It had been a long, tense day and she still felt Massani would have a hard time letting go, even temporarily.

Shepard stepped in and turned to face the door, Zaeed hot on her heels. Christ, could she just not catch a break.

The doors slid closed and the lift slowly moved upwards through the ship. Halfway between Cargo and Engineering Zaeed couldn’t hold it any more. He slapped the emergency stop button and the lift ground to a halt.

“Commander? Is there an issue within the lift?” EDI’s cultured voice emanated from the ceiling.

“No, EDI, thank you. Disconnect form the lift surveillance at this time. We will be underway shortly.”

Shepard sighed. Well I guess we’re doing this here. She squared up and turned her head to give Massani the gimlet eye.

“Do you have something further to add Massani?”

“For the record Shepard, I will have my due and Vido will get his. I’m not one of your Alliance do boys. My contract says you’re going to provide the necessary assistance to get it done, I expect your obligation to be paid in full.” Zaeed chewed the words off.

“Duly noted Massani. I always pay my debts. ” Shepard turned to face him fully, stepping forward, closing the distance in the already ego crowded lift.

“Furthermore, I know your shtick is the lone wolf merc, but I need to ensure, for the safety of my team, and ultimately your continued survival, that you have fully committed to this mission. And by that I mean, unless you have a real fucking compelling reason to countermand my orders, you fall the fuck in line, I don’t care if you’re merc, Alliance, Cerberus or GOD ALL-FUCKING-MIGHTY. Is that clear?” Her voice sharp as a knife, she finished with all six feet of her standing boot to boot with Zaeed Massani. Not giving an inch.

Zaeed ground his teeth and turned his head spitting into the grated floor.

“Has anyone ever brought you down a peg girl?”

“You offering old man?” Before the words cleared her lips Massani had slammed one open hand into her shoulder and spun her, his arm closing around her neck and slammed her face into the opposite wall. Blood splattering across her and the lift. Wall fuck, I just had that fixed. Massani moved faster than she expected.

Shepard dropped her chin, keeping his arm from closing around her windpipe. He wrapped the other around her waist trapping one arm, she swung back with her free elbow but he ducked and wove without giving her a good angle.

“Slipperly asshole.” She growled spitting blood.

“Don’t sweet talk me.” Zaeed chuckled between grunts and she bucked.

Well if he wanted to hold her tight, he could hold all 200 pounds of her and her armor. Before he could anticipate her shift in body weight she tucked both her legs and kicked off the wall sending them careening across the lift.

Zaeed’s back hit the opposite wall with a thud as she knocked the breath out of him. The hairs on her neck goose bumping as it played across her skin. Shepard dug her heels in pushing back to pin him to the wall and slammed the back of her head into his nose feeling the satisfying crunch.

“I pay my debts old man!”

He tightened his neck hold and Shepard’s vision edged. Time for ending this in her favor was closing fast. She brought her leg forward and cow kicked him square in the balls. His arms went slack. Even with the cupped armor, enough force will translate through. And she put a hell of a lot of force into it.

“Hngph, Murthafukar.” his voice muffled by her hair.

Shepard spun from his grasp and with a guttural roar launched herself at him again, riding his chest plate to the ground and pinning his shoulders and arms beneath her legs.

Shepard straddled his chest. She stared down at Zaeed, breathing heavily as blood dripped from her split cheekbone onto his face.

“Zaeed, I want this relationship to be beneficial to us both.” Shepard huffed out. “But you’re going to have to trust me here.” She leaned forward and grinned like some kind of macabre death’s head covered in blood “I pay my debts. Don’t fucking doubt it. So, are. We. good?”

Zaeed’s face housed anger, confusion, admiration blood and no small amount of lust.

“Are we good? Goddam. I don’t know if I want to fuck you or kill you. Yeah, we’re good” He chuckled darkly.

“Well, you’ve tried one twice. You’ll need to diversify.” Shepard patted his good cheek and splattered blood across his face.

[red-hood-redemption]

SO I know I’m like, super late to the party, but I finally got my hands on Robin 2021 and there is literally no one for me to talk to about it so now I’m just screaming my thoughts into the void ✌

First off, before i even bought the first two issues, I read through a lot of other people’s opinions on it to kinda get an idea of where it was going characterization-wise for Damian, and because of all the mixed reactions, I figured I should just read it myself and find out. Now I am the FURTHEST thing from a comic book authority, so like, this is truly just an opinion piece but if it convinces anyone to give the run a chance, then yay!!! Honestly, I’m really glad I gave it a shot because I’m genuinely hooked! I’m actually excited about this series (and it scares me lol)!!!

I'm gonna separate my thoughts into two sections: characters, and story, mainly for my own ease, but also if anyone cares more about one thing or the other it's easier to distinguish. But,  the line is a little blurry so if I end up getting a little too much into the characterization in the story section, just bear with me lmao. OH and I'm going to try and keep this as un-spoilery as possible but we'll just have to see. SOOOOOOOO

Characters

I think it goes without saying that Melnikov's art is absolutely gorgeous, and really does show how much Damian has grown up. It makes me want to sob its so beautiful, everyone is so pretty, even the guy that looks like a washed up, high as fuck Tony Stark lmao. But moving on to the actual characters,

Rose Wilson

I honestly don't know too much about Rose, I haven't read enough about her to say anything about her characterization and how it compares to her other appearances, or whether or not she is OOC, but so far, I'm enjoying her taking up the "big sis" role, like, immediately lmao.

I don't know how much I trust her yet, but I definitely get the vibe that even if she does betray Dami in any way, she's probably gonna stick her neck out for Dami again and he's probably gonna do the same.

I'm really intrigued about her motivations for being here. Obviously, Respawn has something to do with it, but I want to know what's up with that. I've seen a lot of theories and I'm so excited. Also side note, that Black Swan chick is hot, and I can't wait to see more of her in action!!!

I feel like Ravager knows a WHOLE lot more than Dami does about the interesting things going on on the island, mainly because she's been doing a lot more sitting and waiting than he has as of yet, but I'm hoping to see more of the two of them doing detective-y sleuthing together. We love a mysteryyyy

Flatline

Okay but real talk, why does she look like a character straight out of Monster High

Honestly tho, I dig it. It's cute! She's cute! She isn't annoying (yet) but I don't know if I care too much about her other than she would make a cute friend for Dami.

I think the problem with DC is that they know people LOVE Harley Quinn and they try so hard to make characters just like her but it always falls short, so honestly I am a little wary of her character development in this run, but I'm willing to give her a shot since her little coffin purse on the cover of the second issue is so damn cute. I'm a slut for character design, okay?

Oh speaking of Flatline and Dami, I don't ship it and I don't want them to force a romantic relationship into Damian's "coming of age"/"soul-searching" moment okay? Because that's what this run is about, at least to me! More on that in the story section!

They're literally 13/14 years old. That's 8th-9th grade, babes lets think about that for a minute

Also let's stop the whole "lets introduce a female character just to make her a love interest!" bullshit okay?

Basically, Flatline is interesting, or at least has the potential to be, but I don't want to get my hopes up because DC is notorious for disservicing their female characters 😕

I think the mixed reaction to her is valid, I don't think she's had much time to make a solid impression yet, so I guess you'd have to read it for yourself. Personally, I don't understand why people immediately hate her, especially because she's like, 14, and what kid that age isn't annoying? like at least a little bit lmao! But, yeah. I don't trust her either but literally everyone on this island is sketchy at least and a murderer at best, so hey 🤷‍♀️

Damian

His new outfit lmaoooo at first I was like "WHaT is this child wearing? You'd think Dick would have rubbed off on him and taught him what good taste looks like" but then I saw the later outfit, with the gold patterning and those sleeeevessssss ugh and I take it all back. A Fashion Icon TM. Truly stunning. A sight to behold. So proud, look at him go 😪

I think there's a lot of different opinions on Damian's characterization in this run, and I can definitely see where its coming from, but I disagree with the notion that Damian has been done dirty and reverted to a blood-thirsty, feral child.  And I have a LOT of opinions on the whole "feral" thing regarding Damian period (but that's for another time).

I don't think of Dami's rampage as a regression for his character. He's letting of emotions right then and I think its very similar to him venting. Its just not verbal, its physical and he knows he's not going to have to grapple with the consequences of his actions on the first kill. He knows he's technically not doing anything wrong.

He is clearly upset at Bruce and his failure to protect Alfred, and while Dami and Bruce are really often described as being very similar personality-wise, they are still distinctly different individuals who came to their current moral codes in vastly different ways. Bruce came to his "no killing" rule on his own; he made that decision for himself. It wasn't taught to him, it was a moment-of-truth kind of situation. Damian, on the other hand is in a vastly different situation.

Dami is, I think, at the beginning of the climb to his own moment-of-truth. He is in his rebellious phase like Dick, where he's gone off to spread his wings. It's not his conscious intention (at least that's not the vibe I got from reading the first two issues), but its directly underlying his "mission".

Damian is growing out of the expectations of his parents and into his own person. We all know he's been thrown from one moral code to another, both drastically different from each other. I don't think its a regression for him to lose his way a little, because realistically, he's going to have to in order to find it, specifically a moral compass that he forged on his own. He's just what? 14? Like hell a kid his age wants to listen to any form of authority. He's as stubborn as it comes. Damian needs to come to his decision regarding the path he takes in life on his own. It can't be made for him. He's seen and lived both sides of the coin, and I don't think he should be forced just yet to choose a side or pave a middle ground, but I do think that he should get the opportunity to see and experience all the gray areas on his own.

I think I'll transition from characterization to story here, because let's face it, this story is about Damian dealing with his confused emotions right now, in the wake of losing Alfred, a man that kind of acted like a grounding presence, a voice of reason, or a moral compass for him (and honestly Bruce and the rest of the bat crew if we're honest).

Story

So there's a lottttt going on in the story that is really enticing and exciting, and I'm really interested to see how it all plays out.

All the rules to the tournament are so, sketchy? Like they don't sound like they are meant to be sketchy, its basic safety and guidelines or whatever but with all the glowy green shit and the stakes of the tournament? Yeah, you can bet your ass its the "no fighting at night" and other shit is gonna be broken, and that's likely when the fun begins *insert evil laughter*😈

I was slightly put off by the whole "let me teach you to have fun" thing with Rose, because it's not like Dick, Steph, Jon, and like the Titans haven't done that with him too, but eh, not something I'm too concerned about. It's definitely just a segway to get us introduced to more characters that might become Damian's friends which will be interesting considering what Mother Soul said about fraternizing.

And that's another thing! I want Damian to make some friends! I know he already has some, but here's the thing: I think he's already been struggling with belonging, and he's definitely been feeling the disconnect between his life and other kids', whether they're supers/vigilantes or not. I think it'd be nice to see Dami have the experience of meeting people who he at first thinks are just like him!! and then realizing that maybe he doesn't really fit in here either, and that it's okay to feel like you don't belong, as isolating as it may feel at times. It just means you have a set of values. I want him to realize that its not always a bad thing, and you learn more about yourself and your own heart this way.

And from there,,, lets talk about the thing that stuck out to me the most in these two issues! GUILT!! It's mentioned SOO many times already, and I think its going to be a really fun, heartbreaking, and interesting aspect to explore about Damian. Is it guilt about his actions? Leaving behind family? Not being able to save Alfred? Not being a perfect example of Robin? He may call himself Robin but he doesn't sport the OG look or symbol like before. I love that his guilt takes on the form of Alfred though, or at least his conscious. I think it'd be really interesting to see this conscious disappear when Dami strays too far from his center, and when he finds it again, it reappears.

I really think that seeing Damian's actions in this run as a failure of character development is an unfair assessment, though. You can't do everything right in order to grow! You have to screw up, lose your way, experiment with life to find your fit, right?

Something tells me he doesn’t care for the tournament itself, but the end result, and the people behind it and more about WHY it was hidden from him. I mean he finds out the tournament TRULY begins once everyone has died once and tHEN he kill everyone? Felt to me less like a “killing spree” as everyone put it to a calculated decision to get the tournament going. He literally cuts Mother Soul off in the middle of her speaking to start fighting at the beginning

Anyway, just my thoughts lol. I do have some issues with the past two issues, and I might make a separate post about that, but honestly not enough for me to dislike Robin 2021 so far. I mean, besides the very obvious white-washing in the second issue, because DC can absolutely do better. And they should. It’s like they thought we wouldn’t notice???? But besides that, story and characterization-wise I’m looking forward to more. Here’s to hoping it stays that way, just with a better colorist!

[wardens-stew]

my review of The Mask Falling - an ode to Arcturus and Paige

For me, the soul of this series has always been the relationship between Paige and Arcturus. It’s apt that this book, the exact middle of the series and as @sshannonauthor​ describes it, its heart, spends so much time with this pair. The intensity and uniqueness of their bond really emerges as the shining jewel of this series.

It’s clear that Samantha Shannon was intentional about putting Arcturus and Paige on equal footing for the first time in The Mask Falling. She manages the power dynamic between them with such attention and nuance, reversing their roles often and fluidly escaping gender roles. The protector role comes naturally to Arcturus, given his immortal strength and anxiety about losing Paige (it’s even part of the etymology of their names), but for much of The Mask Falling he is her silent shadow, trailing being her and supporting her quietly. They negotiate their differences with refreshing candor and in good faith, their arguments free from ego. “My fear is not your cage,” Arcturus tells her. “I will never ask you to mold yourself to it.” His affection for her is empowering, supportive, never constrictive or diminishing. Paige herself is markedly independent, doing the bulk of her fighting and plotting on her own. When she does seek support from Arcturus, there is no sense of her own strength being diminished, and as often as he rescues her, she turns around and rescues him just as easily. 

Indeed, while Arcturus is the immortal god, it is Paige’s power that really shines in this book. Her incredible ingenuity and strength is on full display, getting her out of certain-death scenarios at such a gripping pace I had to cover the pages with my hands to avoid glancing ahead. She couples her incredible powers with extraordinary mental fortitude and an acute conscience; each of her escapades has a satisfying emotional resonance that enlivens her broader quest. Whereas many YA heroines possessed of supernatural power oscillate between immobilizing moral anxiety and moral bankruptcy, Paige tempers her impulsiveness with reason (most of the time) and a powerful motive for justice. It’s clear that she has yet to access the full extent of her abilities, and I’m eager to see what roles she’ll play in the fight to take down Scion. 

While previous installments show Arcturus/Warden on various levels of guardedness, The Mask Falling gives us time and space in excess to see his true character. I was struck by his compassion, his hopefulness despite all that he has endured. He is often reassuring and comforting Paige, his optimism clear-eyed and measured. The contrast is especially stark with his persona in The Bone Season, where he appears cold and calculating, morally gray at best. In this book, he is almost unbearably kind, devastatingly sweet and thoughtful. As Paige remarks, “there was nothing terrible before me now.” The almost unimaginable beauty of his character is achieved with such a soft touch; the books are not about Arcturus being the the epitome of goodness - he simply is. 

A central thread of tension of this book follows Paige and Arcturus negotiating their relationship and coming to terms with their mutual attraction. Samantha Shannon manages this tension beautifully, carrying it forward constantly with poignant moments of intimacy interspersed with Paige’s honest internal dialogue. The smallest interactions and gestures between them felt so heightened. There are all the classic scenes - getting drunk and saying too much, jealousy spirals about past relationships, almost-kiss scenes interrupted, near-death confessions - all building up to a beautiful and satisfying climax. 

Samantha Shannon writes intimacy incredibly well. The love scenes feel specific to the characters, managing to be both meaningful and erotic. Romances between an immortal man and a mortal woman in particular tend to translate the man’s primal instincts and extreme physical strength into a voracious sexual appetite that leaves little room for gentleness and consideration. Arcturus really breaks the mold in this respect. He is so reverent, so sincere, so generous with Paige in a way few male characters with female partners approximate. Rather than relying on an imbalance of power in order to convey eroticism, the sexiness of Arcturus and Paige’s dynamic derives from the equality of their relationship.  It’s so difficult to create a heterosexual romance unsullied by patriarchy, and Samantha Shannon gets close to that here. 

I wonder if it is Arcturus’ immortal nature that makes him such a uniquely engaging character. Samantha Shannon really commits to that aspect of him - he’s not just a hot teenager. The best word I can think of to describe him is mature. He is so beyond the petty concerns of YA love interests, so ego-less and self-reliant. One of my favorite ways he diverges from human men - and traditional male love interests - is his lack of fixation on Paige’s physical appearance. This book has several of the classic moments that would typically elicit a remark or a look from the love interest on the heroine’s appearance, often framed as a cute romantic moment. Yet when Paige dresses up, or dyes her hair - even when she asks him outright - he never comments on the way she looks. “A human might have whispered in my ear, told me I was beautiful or perfect, but not him.” I love that. I’ve never found that lustful, almost predatory demeanor in male love interests nearly as sexy as the author would like it to be, and it always rubs me the wrong way when the man telling the woman she’s beautiful is framed as the epitome of romance. It strikes me as a very lazy way to convey attraction, for one thing, and it reeks of benevolent sexism. Arcturus never plays into those supposedly romantic tropes of disparaging other women in favor of the heroine or being selectively kind. His love for Paige is so pure. 

I continue to be impressed by the sheer scale of worldbuilding in this series. Many books attempt to create fictional tyrannical governments, but few succeed in building one as convincing and elaborate as Scion. The Mask Falling peels back even more layers of this complex world, bringing to fruition seeds planted in the very first book. Although the basic plot leans on some familiar tropes, Samantha Shannon always manages to add an additional twist of the screw. The complexity of this series is truly extraordinary, drawing on etymology and mythology, dropping mysteries and complicating loyalties with incredible dexterity. 

SPOILERS!!!!! --> I am still struggling with Arcturus’s possession and Paige’s failure to connect the dots and realize the reality of his situation. I see Samantha Shannon has pointed out on Twitter that Paige’s trauma and illness may have affected her judgment and decision-making. She says, “There's a particular scene where Paige reacts to an event in a way that is so deeply rooted in her PTSD and past experiences.” (I assume this is the scene she’s referring to.) I think that’s fair - Paige has been so inundated with the Rephaite aversion to humans that it’s almost as if she only needed one piece of evidence to confirm her doubts and destroy her trust in Arcturus. And it’s not as if she just takes it at face value, either - she does question him and try to convince him otherwise. But I still can’t help feeling that it’s a stretch. The Mask Falling makes Arcturus’ character so clear that the prospect that he would be loyal to Nashira the whole time is just ludicrous. Not to mention the fact that Paige somehow overlooked the obvious signs that he was being possessed. His eyes were such a dead giveaway - Paige had already seen that same thing happen when she possessed him! And when he moved to strike her and then suddenly stopped and his eyes flared - come on! That’s a classic mind-control trope. Paige is usually so perceptive, and they had built such a strong foundation… it feels unrealistic that she wouldn’t have connected the dots just because she hadn’t thought there could be another dreamwalker. 

If I had to find fault with this book, and it is difficult, I would say that it leans a little too heavily on some YA dystopian fantasy tropes towards the end - the mind-controlled love interest, for example, instantly made me think of Divergent, The Hunger Games, The Mortal Instruments, etc. Likewise, the forced memory loss is a fairly common fantasy trope that tends to be really frustrating to read. I have faith that Samantha Shannon will keep it from sliding into those tropes, and of course there remains so much mystery still to be untangled from those final 100 pages. /END SPOILERS :) 

This was the kind of book that captivated me immediately, left me lying awake at night and had me eating energy bars for dinner so I could keep reading. It was such a visceral, immersive experience, the kind where returning to the physical reality is almost physically disorienting. It’s been two days since I finished it and I’m still clinging to that fictional world, wishing I didn’t have to leave. Books like these are rare for me, and I’m still marveling at the miracle of finding that book that in Arcturus’ words, exists for everyone: “a book that will sing to them.”

[mostly-megan]

WIP Game

I was called out graciously tagged by the dreamy @zeldasayer​ and realized suddenly just how many I am currently working on. 💚✨

At Home With The Daniels (Whiskey x Gin x Nanny, follow-up to Cabana Nights)

“Levon, honey, you need to keep the towel around you to keep you dry,” you gently remind him as you adjusted his hands to grip the edges of the warm cloth. The poor boy looked like a wet puppy with his sad expression and drooping, wet curls falling in his eyes. You brush them back, catching his attention with a warm smile. 

“He’s just grabbing something, he’ll be right back,” ruffling his hair earns you a shy smile as he toddles over to clammer onto the soft outdoor couch with you. You have to bite back a giggle at the huff he lets out as he leans against you. Angling your head to see inside, you catch a glimpse of Jack walking back and forth with the phone cradled against his shoulder. His wet hair hangs like the little boy next to you as droplets skitter down the angular planes of his broad back. 

Before you start to consider the peek of his slightly too tight swim trunks under his robe, the lithe tones of the children’s mother float from the front room. “Well, hello, my little ducklings! Are you having a fun day with Papa?”

Nerd Hot Talk (Stressed!Frankie Morales x F!Reader: Funny/Fluffy/Dumb Dirty Talk)

Slowly opening his soulful eyes to meet your, he lifts your hand to his lips to delicately kiss the knuckle, “What would I do with out you, mi amor?” You feel your face get a bit hot as you lean down to kiss him softly, leaning your cheek on his as you read over what he has done.

“Hmm, you’d probably sit here for even more hours each day. Are you making any progress?” He inhales deeply and lefts the hard exhale puff out of his plush lips, “Well, it looks like I have all of the preliminary reports finished, but I need to get everything setup for the instructor and my sponsor so they came have everything they need to fill out.” 

He rubs his eyes with one hand, you stand to his side and look over the papers at the front. “And, of course, we can’t forget the insurance, lesson requisites, and medical record forms…”  He wraps his arm around your waist to bring you into his lap, resting his head on your tummy and letting out a sigh as you lay an arm around his neck.

“If you keep doing that, I think you’re going to use up all the air in the house.” He scoffs, looking back up at you, “Oh, you’re funny. You guys hear her? She’s got jokes.” His eyes are tired, the whites look slightly gray and are tinged with red around the edges. But they still sparkle at you the same way they did when you first met. 

Back From Basics (Post-Boot Camp!Frankie x F!Reader: It’s just smut with a little comfort...)

After sitting on the couch for a while just talking for hours, it dissolves like it always used to into slow kisses and passionate making out. It’s a bit odd, his body still feels the same, but it’s felt different in a lot of ways. But his lips still molded to you perfectly, knowing exactly when to move and suck on your lower lip. 

His tongue slowly asks for entrance and you gladly allow the warmth to invade you, roving around and making you moan into the kiss. His hands have found their way up your shirt, caressing your back and pulling you softly to him. You start to slip yours under his shirt, but he pulls away from the kiss and quickly grabs your hands to move them away.

The sun has long since dipped down, leaving you two only is a dim light from the ever-fading glow out the window. “Don’t,” his eyes are looking at your hands, almost refusing to meet yours, “I-I mean, let’s just focus on-on your now.” You place a hand on his cheek, his eyes slowly meet yours. He’s nervous, almost scared, but you’re confused why exactly. If anyone would be, shouldn’t be you not meeting his level of fitness? 

Is he actually concerned about how he looks right now? “Why don’t we go up to bed, baby? There’s something that I want to do,” you whisper along his jaw, leaving small kisses along it as you go. He groans and suddenly stands, forcing you to quickly squeeze your arms around his neck to keep from flying back. Although you know you wouldn’t, his hands are firmly holding onto your thighs as he chuckles a bit at your response. “You couldn’t do this before,” he pulls his head back to look at you while he moves to the bedroom.

My Hero (Dad!Frankie x Reader)

Giggling along with her, you make your way out to the work shed, Isabella wiggling out of your grasp and scampering to the door. You gave the old barn door a tug and popped you head in to see if it was a good time to bother him, but she zipped past your legs to her father. 

Frankie looked up from where he stood, penciling out designs in the planks of wood on his sawhorse, safety glasses perched low on the bridge of his nose. His framed towering over the low beams highlighted by the plaid shirt pulled tight over his strong arms and a little on his softer tummy.

His face lit up at the sight of his daughter bouncing up to him in her little purple shirt and flower tights. He scooped her up with an exaggerated effort, “Uugh, hey, nena! You look so pretty, que bonita!” He nuzzled his nose into her temple and pressed kisses into her curly mess of hair that matched his own. 

She squeals and wiggles at the sensation, giggling out a “Gracias, papa,” but grabbed at his shirt and face to get more of his attention. “Papa, papa, we go on a ‘venture! We wanna ‘venture!”

You cross the workshop, where you were observing the sweet scene from the door. “Some little girl has been a bit cranky today,” you muss up Isabella’s hair and get her giggling again as you lean on Frankie’s other shoulder, “And her mama is also getting a little bored of being home. You got time for an adventure to, oh say, the park?” 

You wiggle an eyebrow at him as Isabella dramatically gasped at the idea. “Park, papa, park,” he chuckles as her little hands now slap on his chest.

Spring Fever (Werewolf! Frankie x Reader: Family Fluff)

Even from the car port outside, you can hear giggles and loud little footsteps in the cabin. You and Frankie share exasperated eyerolls and sighs hidden behind soft smiles as you pass each other. You had just opened up the doors and windows to air out your monthly retreat and Lucas was running wild with excitement. 

You walk up the deck steps, carrying one of the coolers of food you had bought on the way up, and see a small, fuzzy blur circling the living room. On the way to the kitchen, you can see your son chasing his tail so fast it was even making you dizzy. 

Eventually you hear a soft “oof” and look back to see him back in human form bonking against the couch cushion and landing on the floor with dizzy giggles. “Lucas, you’d better be wearing pants when I look back up. We’ve talked about keeping our clothes on.”

You softly chuckle at the small gasp and frantic shifting of fabric. He stumbles into his shorts and tshirt and toddles over to tug lightly on your pant leg, “Mama, mama, I almost got it that time! Didja see Mama?!” 

He giggles again as he wraps his little arms around your legs to steady himself. Pulling more cold food out of the ice chest, you play with his soft curls with your other hand, “I did, sweetheart. You’re such a silly pup today, that looked like so much fun!” 

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

Tagging: @themarcusmoreno @max--phillips @maybege @frannyzooey @filthybookworm @keeper0fthestars @mylifeliterally @fairytalesintheend @murdermewithbooks​ @pettyprocrastination​

[bestbonnist]

Alright this right here is a post concerning the little scene at the end of Chapter 125.2, where Mizuha asks about Hayase and Fushi lies through their teeth about how good a person she was. I’ve discussed my takeaway from this scene in some other posts, but I’ve never actually analyzed it so here goes.

What Fushi’s saying about Hayase is what they think of Kahaku. It’s not Hayase, but it is one of her successors, and since they have the same faie, it’s close enough. 

Before they’re thinking about Kahaku, Fushi’s just trying to reassure Mizuha in any way they can, although they’re having difficulty thinking of things to say. They stutter slightly while answering her question, and the speech bubbles here are wobbly and uncertain.  

Mizuha continues to pressure them, and Fushi lists off a few things: She gave them a safe place, she gave them good food, and she was strong. While Hayase didn’t exactly give Fushi a safe place, that was one of the goals of the Defense Corps., and in Yanome she gave Fushi, March, and Parona dinner. 

All of these things can apply to Kahaku as well, and Fushi turns their head up to the ceiling as they continue: changing where the eyes are focusing is a signal that there’s been a change in thought. Fushi is now thinking of Kahaku. 

The next speech bubbles aren’t wobbly but strong, Fushi isn’t uncertain in what they’re saying anymore. Instead of focusing on Fushi, the panel is grayed out and the reader can’t see any kind of indicator for how they’re feeling. Covering up the emotions Fushi has surrounding Kahaku is something the manga does and something Fushi themself does. Smothering emotions is something Fushi has excelled at ever since the people they love started dying. 

Even though Mizuha means something different, Fushi immediately gets defensive. If Kahaku hadn’t died in the way that he had, and done the things that he did, Fushi wouldn’t need to be so aggressive in their response. But Mizuha’s accusation hits them in a sensitive spot. 

So, why is Fushi lying about Hayase in the first place? 

My answer would be: In order to make up for Kahaku’s death, Fushi is doing whatever Mizuha wants, to ensure she’s happy. This includes being her friend, placing her desire to keep Izumi dead over their morals, and humoring her in general. Fushi says that they do it because the world should be peaceful, but from the moment they introduced themselves to her they’ve been treating her as a Kahaku stand-in, as they treated Kahaku and the other successors as Hayase stand-ins in the past. 

The end of chapter 127.1 confirms this theory. March asks where Kahaku is and Fushi tells her that he’s “not with them” implying that he’s moved on. 

Although Fushi says it’s better this way, their expression shows that they’re obviously not happy about the situation. 

As Fushi wishes Kahaku well here, there’s a shot of Mizuha. They’re working for Mizuha’s happiness as if it were Kahaku’s, because of the sadness they feel over Kahaku’s death. Currently that’s the situation, there are a lot of other things complicating it such as the fact that Kahaku did not like Fushi’s other friends, and by the end of the Renryrr Arc they weren’t so hot about him either. Makes him a difficult person to mourn. 

And *spoilers for Chapter 129.2* later on Tonari actually tells Fushi to their face that this what they’re doing and it’s bad (although for different reasons) but I’m not gonna cover that because it’s pretty straightforward and not everyone can access that chapter online. 

[littlemulattokitten]

which of your stories did you have the most fun writing? who are your favorite characters in HP and why? which is the hardest to write?

My original drafted reply to this didn't save like I told it to so I'm tilted but here we go again!

which of your stories did you have the most fun writing?

All of my fics have been fun to write at some point, but some are certainly more fun than others. The Chosen was fun to write. Obnoxious was fun even when the angst was thicker than peanut butter. The Diary is a lot of work but there are some scenes that I had more fun writing than I realized I'd have and there are plenty to come that I know will be a blast. (When Hermione gets into a verbal sparring match with either Tom, I'm having a great time lol.) I greatly miss The Fourth Blood Princess, because that one was probably my ultimate favorite to work on, but its such a niche premise that it got almost no readership. I do hope to work on it again in the future though.

who are your favorite characters in HP and why?

I'll stick to people who have a visible personality in canon, even though many of my favs are favs because of fanon.

Tom Riddle (hot Slytherin morally gray boi is hot)

Severus Snape (All time favorite from canon and in fic. I connected with his personality a lot, and elements of his backstory. Like Hermione, he carried Harry through the series without anyone realizing it)

Hermione of course (The Real Main Character of the series, fight me)

Draco (JKR did him wrong, he deserved better, but again a complex Slytherin character)

I think those are the only characters I love who don't come with a disclaimer really. Many of my other favorites are problematic if you really look at the source material again.

which is the hardest to write?

I'm not sure if this question refers to which characters are the hardest or which fics are the hardest but I'll answer both.

Characters that are difficult to write? Mainly Hermione. If you've read my fics you'll notice that I tend to keep away from her POV when possible. In Diary its necessary but if I could write that entire fic successfully from just the two Tom POVs, I probably would. I love Hermione, but she's a pain in the ass to write because she's so fucking smart that you have to intentionally build in weakspots for her in order to keep her from being too Mary Sue and overpowered.

Yes, she has canon weaknesses. She's spacey sometimes or hyperfocused on school work. But I refuse to reuse the "she missed xyz because she was too busy reading" excuse for letting things get past one of the most observant characters in the damn series.

Some people can pull off selectively-clueless Hermione really well and I commend them for it. I can't do it without feeling cheap, usually.

Example: Diary!Hermione. I have a literal list that I update as the story goes on of what emotional and psychological aspects are at play that can realistically prevent her from being immediately aware of the behavior changes Young Tom is exhibiting around her constantly. I have my damn carfax for why this kid isn't making the leaps of logic she's capable of where Young Tom is concerned, because if I didn't build those details into her character, her reactions and non-reactions wouldn't feel right. Know what I mean?

Hardest Fic? Sometimes that answer is Diary, purely because of the amount of things I have to keep track of everytime I go to write a chapter or add a scene that didn't exist in the original version. But in reality, the fics that are genuinely difficult to write, not just tiresome or a lot of work?

The Lady and Obnoxious.

The Lady requires me to meticulously space out the murders with how much of Hermione's backstory Tom is allowed to know. Nevermind pacing their relationship, making time skips not feel awkward, etc. The Lady is a balance of styling the writing approach as well as the plot. And I never have the energy to even attempt that headspace most of the time.

Obnoxious is a different beast. It was meant to be a oneshot, then plot developed. The main story that needed told has technically been told, but there are scenes I still want to book-end this fic with. Scenes I planned when I thought the fic would only be 5 chapters. But in my brain, the fic is "done" so it's a literal chore trying to work on finishing it finally. Similar situation with Boats, except that story isn't done being told lmao. The main conflict resolved but the secondary hasn't.

Sorry for the delay on this reply anon, but thank you so much for the ask!

[theelvenhaven]

Keep your hands to yourself

Caranthir x Reader

2.4k words

Wrote this in January and wanted to share now as a bonus since things are going so slow rn with requests.

Celegorm and Curufin know JUST how to get under their brothers skin! This time they decide to do it through you, but Caranthir has little to no tolerance when their little game involves you.

                                                  ❊❊⚜❊❊

Caranthir kept his hand on your lower back standing close to you. A goblet of wine in both of your hands and both dressed exquisitely for tonight's event in Thargelion. His long black hair draped down his black clad back of his velvet robes. Rich silver embroidery on the hems of his robes, with a beautiful burgundy sateen tunic that framed his neck and jaw line beautifully.

His gray eyes intense but relaxed... gazing down at you. Admiring your beauty. Your long hair intricately put up in a bun, pins with gems of starlight on them were strew in your beautiful hair. A gown of crushed burgundy velvet hugged your figure alluringly... A v - cut neckline tastefully exposing your delicate collarbones and the starlight gem necklace resting there.

If Caranthir trailed his finger tips a little higher and over the beaded work he'd get a small taste of your perfect bare back exposed in the cut out. And Eru how he admired the way the gown he embroidered and beaded for you looked on you. He was hardly paying attention to the councilman before you both.

He hardly even heard a word he spoke, though he suspected what it was about. Though the councilman wasn't foolish enough to repeat what he said. Not wanting to sour the Lord's seemingly quiet mood. With Caranthir as your husband, you knew this was his pleasant mood. And in private, a slightly more cuddly Caranthir would come out.

Even if others thought him to be prickly. When it came to you, he was wrapped around your finger. Especially when it came to your affections. You said something in return to the Councilman who meekly and politely smiled to you, dismissing himself. After a moment you looked up at your handsome husband, a small smile pulling at your lips.

"Yes, mírë?" He asked softly in his deep velvety voice, using his affectionate name for you. It meant jewel, treasure or precious thing. And while you were by no means a physical object to obtain, he viewed you as the most precious thing to him even if he rarely voiced it. It was hard not to know how he felt about you, as Caranthir showed it in many different ways.

"Were you even paying attention?" You asked him, humored by his lack of diplomacy. A faint smirk pulled at the corner of his lips as he stared down at your small and delicate form. Your voice drowning out the sounds of this banquet around him, for which he was more than grateful for.

As far as he was concerned these were held for the benefit of traders and perhaps even the morale of his people, the added benefit was seeing you so dressed up. Other than that he hated these, it was just another excuse to hound the already busy Lord on things he was trying to tend too.

"I'm afraid more beautiful sights had my attention..." His fingers on the small of your back began to draw soft circles. Caranthir had spoken to you genuinely, and since being married he was more attentive to complimenting you. Almost as if he was unable to help himself despite how gruff and grumpy he came off. It hadn't even been a year but he was undoubtedly obsessed and enamored with everything about you. Yet in the same breath, he was petrified of you leaving.

Or more importantly being snatched by an enemy be it an orc or an ellon much more charming and with no horrific temper and an oath tying you both to a horrible fate. Quietly he leaned forward, pressing his cold lips to your forehead in a rare public display. Your hand resting on his bicep as he pulled you a little closer, savoring his lingering affections. The surroundings melting away as you couldn't help but be absorbed into him.

Both of you craving every single bit of one another's affections. Soft kisses, warm hands gently caressing one another, arms wrapped around you and laying on is broad chest. The safest place in all of Thargelion for you to be. Before the two of you could descend further into each other- in perhaps making a get away- a voice made your husband tense.

"Brother!" You and Caranthir heard from behind him, a heavy huff leaving his lips and you could feel the glare already forming. You had yet to meet this sibling, very aware he had six brothers. You knew one had passed away, and had the pleasure of meeting Maedhros and Maglor when you two wed. Amrod keeping mostly to himself even when he visited his brother, so you'd seen him but hadn't met. But Celegorm and Curufin... Caranthir seemed determined to keep you hidden from the two of them.

Unceremoniously he pulled away, arm seemingly wrapping tighter around your hip as he faced an almost silver haired ellon and another ellon with black hair like Caranthir's. Even blue in tint in the light just like Cara's. A smirk pulling at their lips as their eyes immediately fell on you, almost making you feel like cornered prey and the sense they thought of you to be beneath them. But Caranthir's aura was undoubtedly protective, easing some of that helplessness you felt.

"Brothers..." He grumbled, hands tightening on his goblet as he brought it up tensely to his lips to drink. Eyes never leaving Celegorm and Curufin, watching them with great intensity even as they shifted to stand comfortably his eyes were trained on them. Celegorm finally brought his eyes from you and back to his brother, the smirk never leaving his lips.

"Shall you introduce us to your beautiful wife? Or shall we do it for you? Considering we weren't invited to the wedding it is the least you could do." Celegorm made sure to put emphasis on complimenting your beauty, and quick to throw out that they had been purposefully overlooked. You only heard another sigh come from Caranthir- who refused to loosen his grip on you.

"This is one of my eldest brothers Celegorm-" Caranthir began in a huffy voice, extending his free hand to the blond, bright eyed ellon. Celegorm nodded his head deeply to you before exchanging a wistful glance with Curufin.

"And this is my younger brother, Curufin." He continued in his same huffy annoyed voice, Curufin politely nodded his to you. Though their displayed respects didn't do anything to ease the ever growing aura of tension and danger.

"And dear brothers-" He hissed out, "this is MY wife." Caranthir hadn't told you much of Celegorm and Curufin. Other than the fact that they could be trouble, and more often than not he had explained they loved to tag team your poor husband. This prompted him to have warned you if this day ever came, that they knew JUST how to send him into a bought of rage.

"It is a pleasure." You said politely back to them with a smile of your own, mindful to stay respectful as you didn't know them, and almost everyone annoyed Cara- except for you. The two exchanged another glance, Celegorm's eyes narrowing in on you once more as Curufin turned his attention to his brother.

"Dear brother, please be a good host and fetch a drink for us. I'm afraid I don't know who to flag down." Curufin began out a glint of amusement finding his eye as he looked from you and back to their brother. You could almost hear his teeth beginning to grind together, your eyebrows raised in response to the way Curufin blatantly ordered him around.

"The wine table is just over there, forgive me but I'd prefer to stay in the company of my husband." You interjected on his behalf, sensing how his anger was winding up to be white hot. Caranthir said nothing drilling a hole into the two of them, Celegorm only looking to you with mirth at your attempt to placate and diffuse the situation.

"Curufin our dear brother lets a Lady speak for him now." If you had known the brothers better you'd have openly rolled your eyes in annoyance at Celegorm's ability to twist this situation around to irate Cara further. But your husband said nothing, not really wanting to show you his unstoppable rage. This whole year he had managed to keep a handle on his rage in front of you, now once you weren't around that didn't mean furniture and glass items were destroyed. Though that streak was certainly being put to the test now,

"Mm with an elf as lovely as she, I'd let her speak for me too... Amongst other things." Curufin said eyes oncing over your form as he stood stoically, a hint of interest finding his voice. This was clearly striking a nerve as Caranthir's hand squeezed your hip firmly, he had sensed your immediate discomfort. Spiking his need to protect you further from whatever else they might spout out in their need to pick on him.

"Leave her out of this." Caranthir hissed out, refusing you the very idea of them using you against him. You were his wife for Eru's sake! Not a silly little chess piece or trinket to be toyed with! Not a single elf seemed to pay this situation any mind, showing how regular this really was, and as much as Caranthir would hate it in this moment you couldn't help but sympathize with him...

"Come now Carnistir! We only mean it as a compliment!" Celegorm laughed out joyously, and if it wouldn't make the situation worse you'd absolutely put yourself protectively between him and Caranthir. You had siblings too, sisters though. So you didn't understand this need to distress their brother so badly and desperately did you want it to stop. You were sensing there was a tipping point and felt that perhaps now was your opportunity to escape so you could calm him.

"My love, let us retire hm?" You began moving to grab his and pulling gently to move past them. But in doing so it put you closer to Curufin, whose hand shot out to your back, resting against the exposed skin. Immediately you blushed bristling at his touch, feeling his hand slide around to grip your hip snugly.

“Come now, Lady Y/N, I insist that you stay and join us for a couple of drinks.” Celegorm urged in a smooth and charming voice leaning forward to be closer to you. The close interaction didn't last for very long as with ease your husband yanked you away.

Unintentionally jolting you forcefully making you stumble, Caranthir throwing the goblet off to the side as he grabbed his brothers wrist tightly, shoving Celegrom away in the process with his now free hand. His fury at its peak just from him touching your bare skin and gripping your hip the way he had so possessively. Curufin grimaced, jaw tensing as a glare crossed his features, easily rivaling their fathers.

But this was Curufin not their Atar. And there was nothing Curufin could do to put the fear of Eru in Caranthir. Especially when it came to you, Curufin was at a higher risk of physical ruin than Caranthir was. The tension hung heavy in the air, wound so tightly your fingernails could tear right through it.

"Keep your filthy hands off of MY wife do you understand me?" Caranthir standing so close their noses almost touched as now it was a battle of wills. Seeking his opportunity to perhaps check on you, not missing how you were slung away from the so called danger, Celegorm moving to step around Caranthir. You only watched with wide eyes as his other hand moved out to grab the collar of his green tunic.

"This is my only warning dear brother." His voice dripping with sarcastic venom and you couldn't help your body reacting with such fear from how feral he seemed to become in his quest to protect you. Every muscle in his body rigid and ready to strike them HOWEVER he had too. The four of you were silent, no one wanting to relent to the other but Celegorm and Curufin knew they'd be fools not too.

There was no Maedhros and Maglor to even attempt to pry him off them once Caranthir threw the first punch. And there was no way in all of Arda you could even attempt to calm that fire once it would be set ablaze. Not until the threat understood its place, only then would he relent.

"Are we understood?" He seethed through his gritted teeth, turning his attention to Celegorm who only scoffed out a chuckle, holding up his arms in surrender.

"Alright, we are understood Carnistir." Celegorm spoke with a grin, it was only then he released Celegorm who straightened out his tunic.

"Isn't that right Curufin?" Celegorm asked his brother sensing their fun was most certainly over... For now. The two were watching Curufin carefully who finally nodded though the stoic stance never wavering. Caranthir shoved his brother away from the two of you as you finally worked up your nerve to approach him,

"Cara?" You asked in a small voice with more emotion than you intended to convey, Caranthir felt angry guilt slam into him hearing you. You had only ever heard of his temper reaching to this extreme, always having the luxury at Caranthir's insistence to avoid this part of his anger. Even though you knew you'd be bound to witness this kind of violent fury it didn't make it any less scary.

You were now afraid of him and it was all because his brothers pushed him so hard, now he surely thought you'd see him as a monster. Slowly he turned to face you, red cheeks far more crimson than normal. Eyes fierce and you could almost see a literal fire blazing in them, his body standing tense and ready to attack but he made no move to attack you. He wouldn't dare.

His brothers were quiet as they watched you approach him, both mildly impressed that you still seemed to want to cozy up to the Prince despite how terrifying he was like this. Your small hand slipping into his big calloused one that gently squeezed as he breathed out shakily. Caranthir didn't miss the tears you were trying to fight...

"Let us retire now?" His voice shook with anger but Caranthir was trying desperately to calm himself for your sake. You nodded at his words, thumb rubbing against your soft hand before pulling you with calculated care into his side, and without missing another beat the two of you walked towards the exit of the banquet hall.

No one seemingly paying you two any mind, anyone who did quickly changed their mind once they caught a glimpse of their Lord. For now he'd leave Celegorm and Curufin to stew on their only warning before he'd even consider dealing with them tomorrow. His only concern now was soothing you and his anger, and was grateful his brothers had enough smarts between the two of them to allow you both time alone.

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