#but the idea that her first weapon was a staff

[seaprofound]

lowkey obsessed with the idea that po’s first weapon was a simple staff—because overthinking was a prison to her—and that she became so nimble and agile with it, that her mom started jokingly calling her sea monkey 🤭

[void-kissed]

..So I had an idea for a crossover of sorts

[aquaticmercy]

Beautiful Mess

Summary : Bucky tries to cook you a food you’ve been craving. It goes wrong, but it also goes right.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her) 

Warnings : food, mild cursing? and lots and lots of fluff! 

Requested by : anon 

Word count : 1.5k

Note : It’s my first fic in 4 years and boy I forgot how good it felt writing for fun. Thank you to the anon who requested this! (I said it would be >1k word blurb but I got over the limit and I hope you don’t mind!) Enjoy!

Requests are open!

“Shut up,” Bucky grumbled, aggressively poking at the smoke alarm with the end of his rifle case. He stretched on his toes, metal arm whirring as he tried to reach the obnoxiously tall ceiling. 

‘Oh this is wonderful,’ you had been giddy with joy when the two of you viewed this apartment, ‘I love the high ceilings, don't you, Buck?’

He had chuckled and agreed that day. For all he cared, the ceiling could be as high as the atmosphere allowed if it meant it made you happy. But now he was thinking maybe your next place should have, at the very least, a reachable ceiling on his tip toes. 

The shrill beeping had been going on for what felt like an eternity. Bucky Barnes has never been known for his patience, and now it was wearing dangerously thin.

Clearly, he hadn't thought any of his actions through. The rifle case was too flimsy, and it bent under the pressure of each jab. If the alarm didn’t stop soon, it wouldn’t just be his sanity at stake— the neighbours would probably come knocking on the door asking if they needed to evacuate.

"Great idea, Barnes. Brilliant," he muttered to himself, throwing a desperate scan around the room. His eyes landed on the bo staff you kept in the corner— a weapon from your training collection. 

“Perfect,” he said to himself, practically lunging for it. Surely, you wouldn’t mind him using it just this once. It was just a stick, right?

Grabbing the staff, he reached up again, tapping the alarm with its tip. His strength— which usually worked in his favour— became his single greatest enemy. With a loud snap, the white disk detached completely, wires dangling from the ceiling as the alarm finally went silent. A part of him took in the quiet bliss for a moment before realising the repercussions. He’d have to contact the building super, then pay the fees, and since he’s off for a mission in a couple of days, he had unintentionally given you a bit more life admin work around the house.

He cursed under his breath, staring at the detached alarm hanging limply in his hand.

He tossed it into the kitchen trash bin, as if hiding it there might make the problem disappear.  For a moment Bucky just stood there, staring at the mess around him, trying to make sense of how things had spiraled out of control.

He ran a hand through his brown thick locks, ones you had asked him to grow out again. He sighed. How did it go so wrong?

All he wanted was to do something nice for you. Just one thing. You’d been so good to him— so patient, especially after he'd returned from weeks of missions worn down and, admittedly, a bit grumpy. You greeted him with nothing but warmth, even though you were probably as tired as he was.

And then there was the food. Bucky still wasn’t sure why he'd been craving bland, 1940s-era meals, the kind no modern person could possibly enjoy, but you indulged him anyway. When he’d mentioned how much he missed a particular meatloaf recipe, you made it for him. He could tell from the look on your face that you were struggling not to spit every bite out, but you powered through for his sake. And when he’d told you about his mom’s molasses cookies, you had taken the time to bake a jar that tasted just like the ones from his childhood.

It was perfect. You were perfect.

So why couldn’t he get this right?

You'd been talking about focaccia earlier this week, your eyes lit up in childlike wonder as you told him about how you used to experiment with different toppings. He’d taken a mental note of that moment, thinking he could surprise you by making some himself.

He glanced around the kitchen. Flour dusted on nearly every surface, olive oil splattered on the counter, and a sad, burnt dough resting on the baking tray. 

Bucky sighed, leaning back against the counter, staring at the mess with a mixture of frustration and helplessness.

You’d probably laugh at this, he thought as a self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He could already hear your teasing voice, reminding him that not everything had to be perfect.

But still, he wanted to get it right. 

He glanced at the clock. You’d be home soon. He had maybe thirty minutes to try and salvage this— or at least clean up the evidence before you walked through the door. 

Priorities, he thought.

He cracked his knuckles, pouring the excess dough to a new baking tray. He thanked whatever gods still existed that he had accidentally made way too much dough. Not even waiting for it to rise, he shoved it in the oven and reshaped it into something that didn’t look like a science experiment gone wrong.

“Okay,” he pressed a palm to his forehead as if that would magically clear his mind. “Focus.”

He realised the oven was too hot, and that was probably why it burnt. 

Very smart, Barnes, he thought to himself, about time you used basic logic.

As he fumbled with the oven dials, he heard the familiar sound of your keys jingling at the front door. His heart sank. Shit. She’s home early.

Frantically, Bucky darted toward the flour-covered countertops, grabbing a towel to wipe down the mess. But there was no saving kitchen wreck—not in under thirty seconds, anyway. 

You stepped through the door, humming softly to yourself as you dropped your heavy bag with a thud. You stretched your shoulders, straining a little from the weight. Tossing the keys to the side, you noticed how uncharacteristically quiet it is in your home.

As you moved deeper into the apartment, you saw why.

It was your boyfriend, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, holding a flour and oil-coated dish towel like a deer caught in headlights.

The corners of your mouth lifted. “What on earth?”

“I can explain,” a red plum blush coloured his cheeks, raising his hands in defense. You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to the crime scene.

“Wait…” your eyes widened, “are you trying to make focaccia?” 

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “I thought I could surprise you with it, since you’d been talking about how much you love it. But, uh…” He motioned to the oven. “It’s not exactly turning out the way I planned.”

You let out a soft laugh, one that melted Bucky's heart, that made his chest thrum with joy. You took the towel from his hand, squirming then dropping it when you touched the part of the fabric that was very sticky with congealed liquid, clearly a mix of olive oil and flour. “I can see that,” you teased, quickly wiping your hand as you bent down to be eye-level with the dough. “What is this? An attempt at modern art?”

Bucky groaned, covering his face with his hands. You looked around the room, seeing your bo staff on the floor, and his (hopefully unloaded) rifle by the dishwasher. “Did you shoot it?” you joked.

“No.”

“Did you hit it with my stick?”

“It’s a disaster,” he complained, exasperated.

You took a deep breath and then giggled, your shoulders shaking as you leaned against his shoulder for support.

“I tried, okay?” he grumbled, part mortified, part relieved, and fully, thoroughly, embarrassed. Still, he could feel his heart flutter as he watched you laugh.

You cupped his cheeks affectionately. “I can’t believe you went through all this trouble just to make me bread.”

He shrugged, his expression softening as he looked down at you. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. You’ve been so good to me. I thought I could, I don’t know… return the favor.”

Your heart melted at his words. You didn't care about the focaccia, or the mess in the kitchen. It was about the fact that Bucky had gone out of his way to try and do something sweet for you— even if it clearly went south.

“Bucky,” you said softly, standing on your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I love that you tried.”

He sighed in relief, wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you into his warm chest. “I just didn’t want to screw it up.”

“You didn’t,” you reassured, resting your head against his shoulder. “I didn’t even know you knew what focaccia was,” you teased.

He chuckled, burying his face in your hair. “I’m still not sure I do.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him “Tell you what, I’ll make you an offer. I’ll show you how to make focaccia, and we’ll order takeout in the meantime.”

Bucky’s smile widened, as he peppered kisses on your face, overwhelming you with as much love as he could possibly give, “That sounds perfect.”

You threw him a clean kitchen towel once you were able to escape his affectionate attack, not that you wanted to. “Now help me clean up, Buck.”

He grabbed the towel and started in the corner as you started chucking empty olive oil bottles into the trash bin.

Wait, trash bin-

“What the hell is the fire alarm doing in the trash, Barnes?” 

Bucky froze, turning to you with wide eyes. “I can explain.”

You tried to suppress a laughter, piecing together the clues, “Did you break it?”

He raised his hands in defense. “It was beeping, and I didn’t mean to rip it out of the ceiling…”

“You tried to kill it with my staff, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

You smiled. Oh, what a beautiful mess you had found yourself in.

-end

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Cowboy!141 x Noble's Daughter!Reader (My Version of the AU)

(How you meet them)

Synopsis: Being the daughter of a noble is a jarring task as you must be always able to keep up appearances, so what exactly happens when your family hires 4 men? Men who seem dangerous yet you know nothing about, all happening to be part of the same group of people. What happens if they take an interest in you? Someone unattainable, forbidden yet also undoubtedly tempting..

Hi lovelies! Lia here again, apologies for the delay and inactivity, I had exams, projects and the recent release of part one of Bridgerton season 3. Speaking of the series, this was inspired by that and RDR2 (none of the elements are historically accurate, I think?), I genuinely hope this does well because this account has not been doing well as of late. With my mutuals leaving Tumblr and some friends are currently ignoring me, I genuinely don't know what to do anymore. From what I know, @ghouljams was the first one who created content in the cowboy!CoD AU but mine is a lot different? So please don't kill me 😭

This will result in headcanons for the next few posts because my brain is attached to this AU so you will be seeing more Cowboy!Outlaw!141.

(Really FEM!Reader, maybe also Plus-size!(Chubby??)Reader?? I don't even know anymore)

More content: My CoD Masterlist

Bless your noble mother's heart, although your was seen as this very respectable and intellectual man of nobility, your mother had this heart of gold having no idea that these rugged men he has newly hired were outlaws, criminals.. murderers?

Yet your father did, something about him felt sinister, well all noble money comes from not so noble cause.

Although your mother wanted you to get to know and be familiar with the newest staff members who would do all the gnarly, energy consuming and physically challenging tasks, she did not want her daughter interacting with men who would be considered improper like seemingly mysterious men who happened to be from a far town looking for a living.

Well without your father's or mother's knowledge, that rule was thrown out the window the moment you saw one of them carrying over some of the crates that contain given by some men to your father for his services and connections, particularly drawn to the one who never seemed to take off the cloth on his face.

Something about the way he stared at you, not seeing the rest of his face, depriving you of clues as to how he felt upon seeing the only lady of the house. You gave him a warm smile, for a moment you thought you saw his lips through the mask perk up, before walking off to the lounging hall for your tutoring on language.

It was odd, you observed them from afar a lot, your personal garden was your sanctuary and you can't help but do so when they talked so loudly, no sign of inside voices.

They called each other names.. Price, Gaz, Soap and Ghost. The man you encountered was named Ghost? Surely it's some alias. Well that wasn't something you should fixate on anyway so you leave for your tasks.

You find yourself feeling a little out of it after your lessons, hoping that a little stroll through the stables behind your family's estate would either help the information sink in or keep it shun out of your mind. Either way you'd find yourself in tranquil, you heard a thud behind you and turn to find so called "Ghost" behind you.

He had dropped a crate, one filled with weapons and uncharacteristically hastily picked up all of them without paying much attention. Such an action caused him to unknowingly cut his finger on one of the blades that fell out of it's sheath.

Your eyes filled with concern as you rush over to take his hand in yours before he tried to brush off the cut and get back to his duties. You knew it was dumb to be worried over something so small that the grown man doesn't even flinch and yet there you were, practically cradling his hand in yours.

A white handkerchief that was embroidered with your favorite flowers by your own mother, something you held dear and kept pristine.. using it on his finger to keep the blood from further gushing and wipe off whatever of the red residue was left on his hand.

As the blood stopped to your relief, you brought his finger and spontaneously pressed a feather-like kiss on the wound. You were so used to doing that for your little cousins, nieces and nephews that it was just a force of habit, your face flushed the very moment you looked up to meet his gaze, what possessed you to do that?

You placed the handkerchief in his hand and composed yourself, you told him to keep it and to bring the wound to the physician to get some antiseptics before running off to god knows where.

A few days after that incident, you meet another one of them except..

You couldn't help but rush, you were late for this supposedly short promenade your family has spontaneously planned. Your favourite gloves are no where to be found and with the three sisters you have, you checked room to room, seeing who might've borrowed the lacey white fabric with the sewn in bows.

Without looking your body slams into a wall, is it a wall? You softly groan, your delicate fingers brushing on your forehead that felt like it would bruise later on. Your eyes remained closed for a few seconds as the impact caused you to feel shaken, light headed.

You open your eyes to one of the outlaws, you blink up as your vision adjusted a bit, his dark skin against the light from the window really did something..

"Are you hurt, my lady?" He asked, his deep voice was smooth and rich, almost velvety. He held you up from falling.

"N-no.. Thank you, uhh..."

"Kyle, her ladyship can call me Kyle. Although I hope it's not too informal to your status, my lady." You smiled at his words, certainly a respectful fellow despite him and his group's reputation.

You felt warmth on your sides, his palms against the fabric that separates his skin on yours, he was only being kind for steadying you after you almost fell from the earlier impact but his touch felt addicting, too much as it continued to linger.

"Kyle, it is then" You said softly, suddenly a bit more aware of your surroundings.

Fuck. He was sure he felt something just by hearing the way his name fell from your lips. Normally he'd give people, employers only and only his last name. He was so used to having been called by "Garrick", he had no idea his name would sound different, so sweet coming from a pretty maiden's lips.

He stutters for a moment, realizing that his hands are touching a lady inappropriately, something only someone she's married to would have the privilege of doing. He swiftly removed his hands from your waist and formally excused himself from your presence with the excuse of his duties.

The next time you met one of them was through your mother's ball, she was always the first to throw one to bless the upcoming season of hopes that you, your sisters and brothers shall wed soon.

You had no taste for it after having a lord step on your feet at least 20 times and not even bother to apologize with how high of a pedestal he puts himself in, you found yourself escaping through the back of your estate to the gazebo in the center of your beloved garden.

You took your tight, restricting shoes off and felt the grass on your feet as you walked toward the gazebo, now close enough to see that you weren't alone but you still continued, your feet against the cooling marble platform. You sigh as you prop yourself to sit on the stone railing next to the stranger who was currently taking a puff of his cigar.

You turned your head away, you were thrown into a fit of coughs from the strong scent of the smoke while you swatch some of it away. You tried not to heave for actual air to breathe while the man next to you chuckles, making you feel irritable.

"M'sorry love.." his gruff voice whispers which make you turn towards him, the man offering you a comforting smile.

"Shouldn't you be in there with your family, miss?" Price asked. To which you hum, "I wanted some "fresh air" and silence" you answered. Moments of silence have passed, nothing but the sound of wind that rattled the trees a bit and each other's breaths.

You look towards the light of windows of your home, the ballroom filled with laughter and talk of celebration. You sighed, knowing you must return as your parents would come looking for you, also not wanting for them to punish you for sticking around unchaperoned with their new hires.

He knew you were about to leave, it would be rude for a gentleman to leave a lady without help, hmm? He wasn't a gentleman though, an outlaw, one of the worst titles one can ever bestow a man. He was considered to be of low honor but who cares?

He kneels down on one knee in front of you, gently taking your leg in his huge hand using his thigh as leverage so he can gently slip on you shoes. For a moment you felt his forehead on your knee before he pulls away and offers you his hand..

You took it hesitantly as he helped you off the railing, you look up at him meeting his eyes. Something about them burned, making your stomach churn but not in a manner of discomfort.

You watched his back as he walked away, his footsteps on the cold marble the only thing to be heard as the noise died down..

The morning after, you've barely had enough sleep, was it the events of the previous night? Nevermind, at least you had a day or two for yourself after conducting a proposition to your parents. Free time was worth it for the sore feet you had to endure.

Not really in the mood to change into anything tight or itchy, you remain in your night clothes. Finally, some well deserved time alone, comfortable and flipping pages of a book was your type of thing.

Sure, socializing has it's benefits however nothing beats your time alone or so you thought you were alone..

A table and a few chairs were set up by the servants to your request at the gazebo, giving you the perfect view of the greenery that you have planted the seeds of.

You had your head comfortably leaned onto lounge as you continued reading. Buts something was just so distracting, a few minutes of the constant snipping and twigs breaking, you look up wanting to see who was there tending to the garden.

Your eyes widened a bit, it was improper for a lady to stare a man who has very less clothing. Nothing but his jeans, belt and hat keeping his face shielded from the heat is toned, muscular and tanned torso and arms exposed.

A little later, you hear a grunt coming from the man, Soap was it? You can't quite remember much from the night you eavesdropped on them. You heard his footsteps on the grass nearing the gazebo but you didn't bother to look up, not until..

"Ma'am? May I stay 'ere a moment? Afraid the heat is getting to me" You look up from your book and sit up to see the same man breathless. You nodded and watched as he sat on the stairs, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

"Excuse me.." You said, loud enough to hear and catch his attention, he looks back from his position. You moved one of the chairs to face your lounge, "Please invite yourself here, I can only think of how uncomfortable the floor might be, especially when you are working at a weather like this one" Signaling him to take a seat on the chair you adjusted.

He gets up yet reluctantly makes himself comfortable on the seat, you pick a drinking glass on display from the silver tray and poured some of the cold lemonade into it, you place it down on the table and slide it to him, offering a warm smile. Your fingers on the base of the drinking glass slightly brushing against his as he takes it.

He thanks you for it and you both enjoyed the tranquil and peace.. yet you can't go back to your book, asking questions and being further interested by the man each minute passes.

The way he talked was something else, it was alluring, comforting and oddly lively, he's told you about his "past" and how he used to be a child.

"Was quite the troublemaker you see, though my family was poor and food was scarce, I found a way to feed the street animals I adore—"

You look at him, so invested on what he was about to say next, it was refreshing to have someone to converse with who isn't interrogating you and practically forcing their ideals of how many babies they want you to birth for them, practically wanting you to die for them.

"I used to steal bread from my neighbor, not a very nice man, selfish really. So I'd often sneak into his shack, leftovers, scraps and anything light enough for me to carry. I'd bring it to Lassie, my favorite stray dog. You remind me a lot of her Bonnie" He said.

"I remind you of a dog?" You weren't so sure if that's a compliment, then again he just called you "Bonnie", what exactly does that mean?

"Home, you remind me of home. Can't say I have felt this comfortable in years, friends and I are usually reserved yet you bring this side out of me, Bonnie. So what spell or witchcraft did you use?" He joked raising a brow at you, for a moment his attention falters as he looks down at the soft mounds of skin exposed on your chest.

"Eyes up here, Johnny."

You warned as you laugh at his question, you notice one of the servants coming out from the estate and into the garden, Johnny smiles and tips his hat to you to excuse himself so that he could get back to work.

Well this is interesting.. isn't it?

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @snowdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

[woso-dreamzzz]

Jessie's Girl III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Jessie Fleming x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first Jessie nap

You yawn as Magda unstraps you from the car, curling into her warmth against the frigid winter air.

It's early in the morning, much too early for you to be awake, you think. It's early and cold and you're not wearing much but your pjs and a coat to keep you protected from the weather.

You're not even wearing proper shoes, just little slippers that make it look like sharks are eating your feet.

You did not enjoy your early morning wakeup call today, having been exhausted last night after a long day of playing.

You clutch girl-swan and girl-moose as you rest your head on Magda's shoulder while Pernille grabs all the bags out of the back of the car.

You're going to an away game today, up in Liverpool so it was either travelling up there last night or going super early in the morning.

Clearly, the staff had chosen super early in the morning.

It wasn't the best idea, trying to fit that into your schedule but Pernille had purposely tired you out last night so you would sleep the four hour long trip up north.

But, still, getting you up this morning was a nightmare and your steadfast refusal to get dressed this morning meant packing an extra bag of all the clothes you needed to change into when you got there.

"Hey," Pernille says, jostling the hand that's clinging to Magda's shirt collar," You can't fall asleep yet, princesse. Let's get on the bus first."

"Hmm," You say," Nein, Momma."

It's not uncommon for you to slip into one of your other languages when you're tired and neither Pernille nor Magda have to heart to lecture you about it right now.

Magda makes sure to put a little more bounce in her step as she gets to the bus, stepping on and hoping that it's enough to keep you awake.

"Someone not willing to wake up?" Millie laughs when she sees the pyjamas you're still wearing and the massive bedhead you still haven't had brushed out.

"It was definitely a fight this morning," Magda admits, slipping into her seat and forcing you out of your hiding space in her neck," But we're ready to stay awake now, aren't we?"

"Nej."

Magda sighs. "Not even for a little bit?"

"Night-Night."

Pernille swoops in before you can close your eyes though, putting your sippy cup to your mouth and making you take a long drink before she pulls out your favourite goldfish crackers for you to munch on.

"The little miss decided she didn't want to eat breakfast at home," Pernille says to Millie," So we've compromised."

Pernille makes you eat the whole pack and then have another drink from your sippy cup.

"Alright," She says finally, fishing blankie out of your bag and draping it around your shoulders," Do you still want to sleep now?"

She already knows the answer.

The bus will rock around like the car does and the car has always been her secret weapon to get you to sleep. When you were younger and fussy, all Pernille would have to do is pop you in the car and drive around for a bit until you were out like a light.

She knows the bus will have the same affect.

You push your tiny hand against her chest though as a yawn makes its way through your whole body.

"Not-Not with you," You say and Pernille smothers a smile.

"Alright. With Morsa then?"

Magda opens her arms up for you and you poke a tiny finger against her chest too.

"Not with Morsa."

"What? Why not with me?"

You stick your tongue out in answer before Pernille regains your attention.

"Who do you want to sleep with?"

You're still new to Not-Wolfsburg and you don't know everyone that well yet. You know Millie, kind of, because she's Morsa's friend but you don't think you want to nap with her even though she's big and strong and looks like she gives good hugs.

Your eyes scan through the seats as more and more people climb onto the bus. You rule them all out as they pass you so you're not quite sure who exactly you want.

Until Jessie gets on.

You like Jessie a lot. She's warm and cuddly and speaks English you can understand.

"Jessie!" You announce as she slips into the seat on the other side of the aisle to you.

She smiles at the call of her name, capturing your hand for a brief moment before she sits.

"You want to sleep with Jessie?" Pernille checks and your head bobs up and down furiously.

Jessie is the one you want to nap with.

"Alright then."

Pernille lifts you over the aisle into Jessie's arms.

"Wait...what?"

Jessie is sat in a four seater with a table, like how Momma and Morsa and Millie are sitting. Niamh is opposite her, stretched out across two seats, giggling to herself.

"Princesse would like to nap with you," Magda says," She's all ready for bed."

You point at your special slippers. "Sharks eatin' my feet, Jessie," You tell her before yawning again.

"Oh..er..."

"Stretch out, Jessie," Pernille advises," And just let her lay on you. I promise she doesn't moved around much in her sleep."

Jessie does as she's told and lets you find a comfortable position, turning onto your belly and pressing your head against the crook of your neck.

Your blanket's a little bunched up, she notices as the bus engine roars to life and the driver pulls it onto the road.

Carefully, Jessie spreads it out, curving the edges around your body until you're sufficiently covered.

You shuffle a little bit, getting even more comfortable against your favourite Not-Wolfsburg player.

Across the aisle, only ten minutes later, Millie bites down a laugh.

"Looks like both kids are down for the count."

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

In Danny's defense, dying scared the hell out of him. Living in a house of ghost hunters was a bad idea, so he left. It didn't matter that they were family. He was a ghost living in a house of Ghost Hunters whose life's work was the very thing that killed him in the first place. He died turning on the portal his parents had spend nearly thirty years working on with two witnesses to his demise. The natural response was to destroy the portal and leave without telling anyone.

He didn't get to that point, though. The first few months after The Accident had been constant ghost attacks, one after another. Danny had tried t understand what was happening, but between his friends on some level denying his death, the ghosts attacking on sight, and the powers he was developing not getting themselves under control, he was reaching his breaking point.

On top of all of it, the portal destabilized.

No one had been in the lab, thank god, but the ghost portal collapsed in on itself. The running theory his parents had was that the ghost boy had been the one to break it. Danny's running theory was that the constant back and forth and overloaded the system. No new actually knew what had been the thing to turn it on in the first place, so no one could actually prove anything either way. At least, that's what Danny hoped.

Danny knew, in the deep recesses of his mind, what to do to get it working again. He knew what to do to keep it open if he so chose.

It had never been his choice in the first place.

Danny had known it wasn't entirely safe for him when the house started to turn on him, but that had only been solidified when the portal had gone down, Jack and Maddie Fenton doubled down on hunting down the Ghost Boy. He was the only ghost left in Amity Park, so he was the only one the trackers would lock onto.

Six weeks before he turned fifteen, Danny left his home. He didn't tell Jazz or Tucker or Sam, and he most certainly didn't tell his parents. Quietly, he packed his things - only those of which that would be easy to carry - and left. He didn't bring his phone or laptop with him. He thought about leaving his wallet, but figured that'd be useful to him.

The last thing he did before leaving Amity Park was go to the police station and tell them he was leaving willingly. He refused to elaborate as to why. They didn't need to know that. He didn't tell them where he was going, either, just that he was leaving.

It was an accident that he ended up in Bludhaven. Four weeks of traveling had tired him out. His powers only making it worse. He was low on money and food, he'd been sleeping on benches and in alleyways, his clothes were all filthy, he hadn't showered in days- He was ready to collapse.

Bludhaven, from what he understood, had a much smaller homeless population that her mother city Gotham, but it was still a lot of people. Particularly homeless youth. Danny was just another kid in an alley when he'd finally collapsed.

It took three days of sleeping behind a dumpster before anyone noticed him. In that time, he'd only woken up once. Not having eaten in a while, he had no waste to expel, so his body had focused on keeping he rested before allowing him to wake up. That was when he'd realized the actual danger he was in.

He had no idea if human weapons could still work on him or not, and he was not trying to figure that out any time soon. So, before the group of armed guys who'd just come into the alleyway noticed him, Danny let the invisibility wash over him before he flew up and away.

On the rooftops is where he found the city's vigilante. He was dressed in a black suit with blue accents and a black domino mask. His weapon looked like a broken bo staff and was strapped to his back.

Danny was not inclined to meet this man, but he'd never seen another hero in action before! Sure, he knew they existed, but he'd never actually gone looking for any. No one in Amity had, actually. It was a peaceful place. Well, until he opened the portal on himself, but that was hardly his fault.

Sure, he wasn't going to meet him, but maybe following him around wouldn't hurt? As long as he didn't get caught, he should be fine. It was only for the night, anyway. He'd probably never see this man again after this.

At least, that was the plan until he accidentally followed the man home at three in the morning. In his defence, though, he didn't know that it was that early or that Nightwing - as he'd heard a few guys call him - was going home! Regardless, he was going to take this to the grave. He was going to leave Bludhaven come dawn and he was never going to tell anyone the he knows where Nightwing lives.

Again, that was his plan. Danny ended up falling asleep on the rooftop opposite the building Nightwing lived in. He slept through the day, only waking up when rush hour foot and road traffic got too loud to ignore. Just as he was getting ready to leave the rooftop, he spotted movement in Nightwing's apartment.

Now, he couldn't even begin to say what had made him stay, but he did. He sat back down and watched as Nightwing moved around his apartment.

It was messy, messier than he'd have expected, but he wasn't one to judge. What really caught his attention, though, was the uniform Nightwing was wearing. Now that begged the question as to why the hero - vigilante was probably the better term here - fought crime at all hours of the day. Why approach the problem both legally and less legally? Why align yourself both ways?

Danny was always a curious boy when something sparked his interest.

He was swift in his movements as he pulled out the binder of paper and scholork he'd taken with him. Opening up to the first blank page, Danny started to write.

He was a hero, whether people thought of him as such or not. He only ever wanted to help. Maybe he could help this guy. Maybe he'd feel some kind of accomplishment if he managed to help Nightwing.

Step one is to observe.

Part 2 Part 4

Tag List: @flame-343

I need to point out that I have gone off of the original prompt, if that wasn't already obvious. In the og prompt, Danny is an adult. In this one, as I continue my take on it, Danny is a child. I didn't mean for it to happen, but the words don't listen to me, I listen to them.

[dovveri]

matching wounds

synopsis: 2 victors are brought back as mentors for the 58th hunger games. you don’t understand how your fellow victor nayeon seems so okay after everything that happened in the arena.

warnings: angst! sleep issues, trauma, death, killings, blood, weapons, mentions of sex trafficking, suggestive at times, all the trigger warnings that come w the hunger games ig…

w/c: 13.3k

a/n: got this idea post conan concert listening to the exit and being thrown back to this one hunger games edit to the exit and this was born! its mostly just them dealing w their trauma and talking and being there for each other </3

»┼)➝

the train ride to the capitol is it's usual flamboyant, boastful lie. you scowl, looking out the window as you pass the countryside at rapid speed. a year was not nearly enough to recover from the trauma of winning the infamous hunger games. you still remember very clearly, the absolute dread you felt sitting on this train a year ago, praying to all the deities and gods you had never bothered learning the names of in your limited education in district 9.

your attention is drawn over to the carriage door when it slides open. your accompaniment, the only other victor alive in district 9, walks in briskly. she doesn't seem to take notice of you slinking around in the corner of the carriage. im nayeon was something else. she was your mentor when you were in the games last year. she had won her games not too long before you, reaped at the very young age of 14 for the 49th hunger games. you guessed you could consider yourself lucky in that sense. your name was picked out last year when you were already 18, so you already had the build and experience from working out in the fields all day to help you win. nayeon's games didn't make too big of a splash because the next year was the quarter quell and haymitch abernathy from district 12 stole the win to the surprise of much of the capitol and the districts. he was all everyone could talk about and people easily forgot the winner of the games the year before his.

you don't remember watching her games on television either, you were only 10 at the time, and your family was too poor to afford something as luxurious as a screen. you saw no sense in watching the games when you could be out working the fields to bring home food for your family instead, that was the first year you were trusted with heavier tasks after all.

as a mentor, nayeon was surprisingly bright and enthusiastic. she was a little awkward when she first met you, but when she found out you actually had potential, she poured her all into preparing you for your games. and with that bright charm she enticed capitol citizens easily, getting you sponsors left and right despite coming from such a poor district. your male counterpart was a little less lucky, he was killed in the initial bloodbath at the cornucopia, it was a shame but everyone expected it. you think he was one of the ones in your district that was worse off, he looked skinny as a stick, and when you sparred during training you had him flat on his face within seconds.

you'll never forget the face nayeon made when you came out of that arena, bloodied and barely conscious after killing the other final contestant, but nayeon was the first face you recognised. she hovered over you, eyebrows creased, hand over her mouth, tears falling uncontrollably, dripping onto your face.

you were the only other victor district 9 produced. it must have meant a lot to her that you survived after she sent kids off each year knowing they'll most likely die. it was the first time you had seen her break, the first time she wasn't putting on a mask for the kids she lead to their deaths.

because your district didn't have a male victor, you were asked to come back as a mentor this year instead. the kids reaped were scrawnier than ever, you had asked the staff to instruct them to take a shower first before meeting you and nayeon. you remember when you were escorted onto the lavish train for the first time you felt so disgusted with your grime and dust you felt too bad to eat all of the food that would be laid out, thinking you were much less than presentable, especially in front of nayeon.

you continue sulking in your chair, watching nayeon move around the room effortlessly. although you had moved yourself and your whole family into the victor's village, you still didn't see much of the older woman despite practically being neighbours.

you got to know her mom and her sister a little better but found out her dad was killed in a small uprising when she was only a little girl. not long after, her younger sister was born and she had to practically raise her while her mom was out trying to find as much work as she could to support all of them. nayeon grew up to be strong-willed and caring, winning her games with her cunning and natural ability to draw people into her and make them trust her. back home though, she spent most of her time away from home, no one, not even her family knows where she goes.

the carriage door slides open a second time, and this time the tributes for this year walk in shyly.

nayeon turns immediately with a smile, the same one she presented to you when you first walked in.

"hi! come in! please help yourself to all of the food here. it's a fairly long train ride into the capitol so it's important to bulk you guys up as much as we can before the games start."

the contestants flinch at the reminder of the games, looking at each other in uncertainty.

you step up then, "it's okay. everything's safe to eat. i had the same worry last year because i heard the story of that boy winning one of the early games by poisoning everyone on the train on the way to the capitol so all the other tributes were already dead or weakened by the time they stepped into the arena. security has upped considerably since the early games so it's safe to eat. you should eat, it'll help you get strong before you go in."

nayeon's gaze flicks over to you when you step out of the shadows, a curious look settling over her face.

the male contestant lurches forward at the reassurance, immediately stuffing his face with all he can reach, never having seen this much food in his life.

the girl also steps forward watching her counterpart, gingerly picking up a scone and biting in, her eyes light up at the texture.

you smile, moving towards them, "here. add this, it's called jam. it'll make it taste even better." you grab a scone for yourself and show her how to apply the jam, watching her take a bite and grin, mumbling her thanks around a mouthful of food.

nayeon slides in next to you, sitting across from the contestants with a kind smile.

"good right? after only eating plain bread and wheat for so long it's almost otherworldly."

the contestants hum and nod, still more focused on the food than the two of you.

"what were your names again?"

the boy finishes his mouthful of scrambled eggs, "julian. my family mainly works in transportation of wheat. so i've had a little experience hauling heavy things and lugging them around."

nayeon nods, "that can come in useful. there are always weapons that are included for heavyweights like you." she turns to the girl next, prompting her to reply.

"adeline. i don't have a lot of experience doing much of anything." she replies shyly.

you speak up, "that's okay! i'm sure we'll be able to find something once training starts."

you don't ask any further questions, nayeon and you in mutual silent agreement to let them eat until they were full. you send them off to explore the rest of the train and have a look outside, getting accustomed to the rapid change of pace from grueling farming work under the hot sun everyday, to air-conditioned velvet cushions and endless food and drink.

nayeon excuses herself as well, saying she was going to ask the train conductors exactly how long it would take to get there.

you wave goodbye, the permanent smile etched onto her face unnerved you.

when she was your mentor, you just thought she was encouraging. but now… now you know how she feels to be the last one standing in the arena. and you don’t understand how she can possibly smile or act as if everything was okay, not when the people you killed and betrayed haunt you in your nightmares every night, not when your senses are constantly on alert, terrified someone would jump out from around a corner to try and kill you, not when you felt like you had never left the arena.

it felt like you and nayeon had matching wounds, but yours were still black and bruised, and hers were perfectly fine. leaving the arena and trying to live life after the trauma it put on you, and being forcefully reminded of it every year afterwards, it was like you buried something that never died. how could she live with herself?

you spend the rest of the day moping around, wallowing in despair and wondering just how you were going to survive the next few weeks.

»┼)➝

a jolt of the train wakes you up. not that you could ever sleep well anyway. the first few nights after the arena you barely slept an hour a day. if you weren’t paranoid someone would attack you in your sleep, you’d be woken by the voices of the ones you killed.

you sigh, sliding out of bed and stepping outside your room. you wouldn’t be able to sleep for any longer so may as well rise early.

you pad down the hallways lightly, rubbing your eyes and wandering around aimlessly. you had gotten used to waking up at ungodly hours and usually chose to be productive when you were awake, cleaning, gardening, knitting, learning whatever you couldn't learn when you were living in poverty and didn't have the opportunity to learn. anything to get your mind off the ghosts that haunted you.

you find yourself at the back of the train, in the last carriage where half the carriage's ceiling and back wall is practically clear, allowing you to see the terrain the train was passing through.

what you don't expect is another figure, curled up at the end of the carriage sitting on the ledge and looking out at the landscape. nayeon.

she's got one knee up on the ledge, the other stretched out dangling over the edge, arms perched on her knee, head rested on her arms. you approach slowly, unsure if she was awake or not.

it seems her senses never really dulled at all either though. she noticed you when she walked into the food carriage earlier in the day, she just chose to let you think and brood, she noticed you now as you tread towards her slowly. this time she turns her head to not scare you, letting you know she was awake. her eyes are crinkled in a softer smile, heavy and tired.

"hey y/n."

you reach her quietly, she gestures for you to sit opposite her on the ledge, shuffling around so you have the space to sit up and lean back against the window.

"hi... did you sleep?"

nayeon hums, "a little."

it's silent for a few minutes, the churn of the train and the soft breaths the two of you let out are the only sounds you can hear. you look out towards the horizon as well, the fields and forests the train rapidly passes blur into mixes of brown and dark green. it's getting brighter, slowly but surely, the sun was lazily making its way up, signifying another day you were alive.

your eyes eventually drift over to nayeon. (they always do.) she was like a mystery someone would dedicate their life to uncovering. you trace over the lines on her face, noticing the little mole under her left eyebrow for the first time, the small array of freckles that dotted her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, her heart-shaped lips full and-

you catch yourself, eyes flicking up to hers again to make sure she wasn't watching you. you breathe out a sigh of relief, she was still entranced by the slowly rising sun.

"are you always up this early?" she speaks up at last, breaking the silence that settled over you calmly, although it wasn't an unwelcome break, like a raindrop disturbing the peace of a still lake.

"sometimes. i haven't really slept well ever since i left the arena." you realise this is the first time you're speaking about your experience in the arena with her. the first time speaking about your experience period. you had closed the memories off, pushing them down deep inside you so they could only haunt you in your unguarded sleep. and your family knew better than to ask, they saw what you went through on the big screens, there was no need to remind you of the trauma more than you already were reminded of it everyday.

nayeon lets out a dry chuckle, "that never changes."

your eyebrow raises, you knew close to nothing about the older woman. she never talked about herself or her games, when she was your mentor she was solely focused on helping you survive. and you had never asked.

"... you always seem so... fine though. i don't know how you do it to be honest."

she looks at you then, a sarcastic sort of glint in her eye, "is that what you think of me?"

you gulp, suddenly nervous for whatever reason, "i think that's what most people think of you. i didn't think much of it until i stepped out of that arena too. most people think we can just leave it all behind, enjoy the riches, bringing our families out of poverty, not having to live on scraps of grain everyday, they'd think we'd all look like you. but i'm not."

"i'm not either y'know. i have to put on this face. so that my family doesn't ask how i am. so that the kids i send to die every year think they have a chance of getting out and being as happy as i look."

"even faking it though... it must take so much. i can barely look at the kids without being thrown right back into that arena."

"you never get used to it. y'know the first year after i won, i was so optimistic. i thought, if i could do it, there's no reason anyone else can't do it from our district. and i thought that year they had better chances than me. i was only 15 y'know, when i first started mentoring, not to mention it was the quarter quell so there were twice the tributes i was in charge of. the tributes that year were all 16 or 17, i thought they were older than me, fitter than me, they could win, they really stood a chance. and then i watched them all be cut down in the first few seconds of the cornucopia bloodbath. four people. just like that. dead."

"...i'm sorry."

"don't be. that's just the world we live in right? the only way to survive is to think like the people in the capitol. when you view them as objects, as items of entertainment instead of real, tangible lives, it's a hell of a lot easier to watch them die." there's a somber pause, your mind racing, sorting all this new information you're getting out of her, "not you though." and then your mind's quiet, senses hyperfocused on what nayeon says next.

she sighs, looking back out at the soft orange and yellow hues that start to fill the early morning sky, "i couldn't do it. i couldn't look at you like that. no matter how hard i tried, i couldn't- i don't know. you were different. eight years sending 18 kids to die, but you came back."

"i couldn't have done it without you."

her lips turn upwards, just a little, but you catch it, "no. you brought it out of me. turns out when you actually care about who's in the arena instead of treating them like your next poker piece, you work a little harder to make sure they survive."

"but then what if they don't?"

her smile drops again, "i think you'll answer that for yourself after this year's games."

she sighs, standing up, about to leave, but you catch her hand, not even sure what compelled you to grab it. the contact makes both your eyes widen, looking down at where you're touching.

"wait..."

she waits. cocks her head, hand closing around yours in reciprocation.

you struggle to form the thoughts in your mind, too much information for your cognitive load to handle, but eventually one thing comes to the forefront.

"i care about you too."

nayeon smiles, a real smile this time, you can tell because her eyes crinkle, her nose scrunches, cheeks blush, perfect teeth show. you suddenly pull a memory from the depths of your brain, the first time you saw her, when her name was called out at her reaping. she was a small little thing, obviously young and frail, but her smile was just as practiced. except back then she had two large front teeth, it gave the appearance of a freshly born rabbit. you don't question where they've gone, her time in the capitol right before her games likely had her stylists 'fix' her teeth so she was objectively prettier and would attract more sponsors on screen. like cleaning the pigs before sending them to the slaughterhouse. what a broken world you lived in.

»┼)➝

you spend the next few days on the train leading up to the capitol getting to know julian and adeline better, trying to tease out parts of their personality that could be used to appeal to the public, as well as putting them on a basic exercise and meal regime to get them fitter and healthier for the games.

you also spent a lot more time with nayeon, working together to come up with the best plans and routines to put the tributes into, staying up late and studying all you can know about the other contestants that would be in the games, coming up with strategies that could be used once they were in the arena.

the outlandish extravagance of the capitol will never cease to amaze you. and judging by the look on nayeon’s face as you pull in, it seems no matter how many times you return, you will always be reminded of their power and riches over the districts.

you’ve been getting to learn nayeon’s expressions. right now, she’s sporting her fakest, most exaggerated smile for the capitol viewers. you know better though, the anger and disgust in her eyes only able to be interpreted by someone who came from the districts.

she turns to you then, and you blush, feeling caught staring, but she doesn't comment on it, instead brushing her hand past yours lightly, behind the peacekeepers stationed out front for your protection (or to keep you in line), and interlock your fingers where no one else can see. she squeezes gently in reassurance, leaning in to whisper into your ear, "smile y/n. you're the most recent victor, the one they'll remember best, the one they'll be most curious about since her games ended, their attention on you can help bring attention to our tributes who would never normally get this much of a crowd."

she was right. you didn't have time to wallow in the self-pity and hate you held for the capitol when you remember your two mentees from back home, likely terrified and completely overstimulated from their first sight of the capitol, the people coming to welcome them not even looking like they belonged to the same species, all dressed up in absurd colours and materials people in the districts probably slaved days away to manufacture.

you squeeze her hand in return, looking out to the crowd and smiling.

"look for the red dots. those are signs that cameras are currently recording for the rest of the capitol to see."

you follow nayeon's instructions, spotting the small blinking dots and smiling directly at them, waving and trying your best to remove yourself from your body, going into autopilot to not feel the utter abhorrence at being paraded around like a circus monkey.

the crowd becomes impossibly louder at your actions. when you can tell everyone's eyes are on you, you point to your tributes who are standing next to you, looking like newborn foals learning to walk, redirecting their attention.

nayeon gives you a little nod of approval, her hand not leaving yours while you slowly step off the train and follow the peacekeepers towards your transport to the training facilities while making your way through the welcome crowd.

by the time you finally arrive, it's already sundown and you can feel the exhaustion of having put on a face for so long. the tributes are taken away from you to meet their stylists for the first time. you're too tired to offer them any advice but nayeon steps in, still as energetic as she was when the day started.

"do everything the stylists tell you to do. it's gonna feel weird at first and they may even want you to do some things that you won't be comfortable with, but it's all gonna be for your benefit. just remember that they're on your side. they want to make you look like the best version of yourself for the rest of the capitol, and beauty sells. trust me i know."

they nod, thanking you both and being led off by peacekeepers.

you and nayeon are led to your floor where you'll be staying for the remainder of the games. as soon as you're inside you slump down onto the couch, waving off the avoxes that look at each other a little concerned.

"she's okay. just tired. you guys can leave us, we'll call you if we need anything." nayeon offers a polite smile, sitting down much more elegantly next to you.

the avoxes nod their acknowledgement and wander off. poor things.

when you hear that they're gone, you roll over to look at nayeon who's finally taken off her smile, folding her jacket neatly and placing it off to the side.

"you're really good at that."

she looks at you, tilts her head in question.

"you fooled me too. the whole happy polite princess thing you have going on. and you know you're way around. this is my first time back to the capitol since the games. i never thought i'd be back here."

something comes over her eyes, but she brushes it off, smiling at you, a little pained, but before she can reply, one of the avoxes comes back and whispers something into nayeon's ear. her face darkens, and she nods, standing back up.

"i have to go y/n. rest well." it's curt, she doesn't even look you in the eyes, and then she's gone.

you’re left blinking after her, confused at what just happened. did you say something wrong?

»┼)➝

nayeon isn't back even by dinner time. neither are your tributes, although they probably wouldn't be back until the next day, or even the day after. you remember the amount of procedures you'd gone through when you'd arrived. the preparations for the opening ceremony were extremely important for first impressions and they didn't have that much time to fix all the issues you'd grown up with. major plastic surgery was normally the way to go.

so you push the abundance of food around on your plate, thinking about how at home the amount of food you're eating could feed a family of 10. it sickens you. it's the first time since you'd left home that you were really alone. not counting the avoxes positioned behind you that had to attend to your every need. it was almost like you missed nayeon. she was always able to brighten your moods, playing around, even when things were serious she'd make sure nothing ever got too overwhelming for you or for the tributes. she was a veteran.

you sigh, pushing your food away, apetite gone. with nothing else to do, you retire to bed after a shower. maybe the soft mattresses and expensive fabrics designed particularly for sleep would finally grant you a night of good sleep.

it did the exact opposite. the fabric rubs your skin the wrong way, and you're tossing and turning in bed, playing around with the different settings of the window, shuffling your pillows around. you just couldn't find peace.

you yawn, giving up and sliding out of bed. you pad outside your room, intending to get some fresh air. on the train you didn't have that luxury, but you could still see the countryside while it passed. at least now you had a balcony in the main living room. it was caged off in case any of the tributes tried to commit suicide before the actual games, but it was still fresh air.

the cool tiles of the floor feel foreign on the skin of your feet. before you make it to the balcony door, you hear the front door clicking open.

your heart stops, sweat immediately building up on your brow, your body being thrown back into the arena, terrified someone was here to kill you.

your movements are quick, crouching and scrambling towards the couch in silence, grabbing the closest thing you can, the couch blanket. you'd learnt anything can be fashioned into a weapon with the right mindset. the blanket could be used to choke the intruder if it really came to it.

you peek to the side of the couch, holding your breath as soft footsteps pad towards the living room, the only light available is the one in the entry way, overcasting a shadow moving its way closer and closer.

but as soon as it's about to turn the corner, it stops.

you curse internally. did they notice you?

you don't get to form a second thought before a pin is whizzing your way, impaling itself into the couch. you barely have enough time to scramble backwards, the cushion of the couch saving you, but the person is leaping forwards, pushing you down into the floor. you react automatically, struggling against the figure, using the blanket you're clutching onto to latch onto a leg, yanking so they lose their balance, toppling over. you take the opportunity to quickly clamber over them, pulling the blanket to wrap around their neck.

their hands come up immediately, trying to create space between the fabric pulled tight at their throat, gasping in effort.

you finally can assess the intruder. she's wearing a short dress, pale skin exposed, hair pinned up in a clean updo with the same pins that she must have used to throw at you once she noticed your presence. and then suddenly, with horror you realise it's nayeon.

you quickly let her go, scrambling back until your back hits the couch, staring at her as she coughs, trying to catch her breath.

"nayeon!"

she groans, turning, eyes adjusting to the dark, "y/n?"

"oh fuck i'm so sorry i didn't- i thought there was an intruder-"

she massages her throat, letting out a little chuckle when she realises what's happened, "it's okay y/n. i thought the same. sorry for almost impaling you with a hairpin."

you stare at her, still in shock. "what- where have you been- jesus i almost killed you-"

"don't get cocky now. i could've gotten out of that."

you roll your eyes, "i'm serious nayeon. what are you wearing? i'm sorry too." your words are flying out, too many thoughts coming up too fast, but mainly, you're just glad it wasn't some assassin sent to kill you.

she looks down at herself, like she was just remembering she was dressed up. "ugh never mind that. are you okay? you're not hurt are you?"

you shake your head, "you?"

"i'm good don't worry your pretty little self. anyway i'm gonna go take a shower. you should go back to sleep y/n."

you tilt your head, standing up when she does, "but where have you been?"

she starts towards the bedrooms, turning on the hallway light so you can finally see each other, "out." she doesn't look at you when she replies, pulling her dress down so it covers more of herself. you catch a glimpse of the scar on her right thigh right before she covers it, the one she got in her games when someone had slashed her leg. her face is made up, but you notice the mascara running down her face in tear streaks. it's such a surprise it stops you in your tracks. you hadn't seen nayeon cry since that time you were barely conscious and just out of the arena.

"nayeon..."

she pauses, but doesn't turn back to look at you, "what is it?"

"i... you... are you okay?"

nayeon lets out a dry laugh, "i'm fine y/n. you aren't that strong. i just feel really gross and i need to shower. i'll see you in the morning."

before you can stop her she's stepping into her room and closing the door. you frown, she was obviously lying, something had happened while she was out and she wasn't telling you. it was fine if she didn't want to tell you, you just... you cared about her. you owe your life to her. you want to do anything you can to repay her.

so you sit outside her room, it's not like you were going to be able to get any sleep anyway, you'd wait for her to finish her shower and talk to you.

»┼)➝

it's almost an hour before she leaves her room. you sit fiddling your thumbs, thinking up scenarios of what could have possibly happened. nayeon was too good at hiding herself. you wished she'd open herself up. if not to her family, to you, someone who understood what it feels like to be in her position. you were one of a kind, there weren't going to be many district 9 victors after you, there certainly weren't any before her.

when she finally opens her door you scramble up.

she looks down at you surprised, her hands wringing out her hair in a towel, face bare. you're reminded of just how young she was. despite her experience and knowledge of everything, you remember she was just a girl.

she smiles. you're practiced enough that you can tell it's fake.

"what are you doing here y/n?"

"waiting for you."

"i told you to go to sleep."

"i couldn't sleep anyway."

her smile stays as she steps past you, you follow quietly. she turns the kitchen lights on, rummaging around in the fridge for something to eat.

"have you not eaten yet?"

her hands stop moving for a second, "no. not yet."

"where were you?"

she sighs, taking out a takeaway box and moving to the microwave. "i was out y/n. i told you. please stop asking me."

"but why can't you tell me?"

"it's classified."

"what?"

"i can't tell anyone."

"but why?"

"i can't tell you that."

the microwave rings.

"do you not trust me?"

"it's not that."

"then why?"

she sighs again, ripping off the lid of her takeaway box a little roughly, "i just can't tell you y/n. you'll probably find out after this year's games end anyway."

"what is that supposed to mean?"

she whips around then, eyes red, eyebrows furrowed, she's raw and genuine for the first time, too tired to keep concealing herself. "you're not stupid y/n. you're an attractive victor. what do you think happens to attractive victors? where do you think i go when we're back home and i have to leave? i'm certainly not out farming or doing all the regular jobs people back home do."

that takes you back, the pure hurt in her eyes, the way she cowers into herself in just her thin sleeping clothes and bare face. she's so much younger, so much more human without all the flashy smiles and outfits she wears for the capitol.

"i- i don't- i just thought-"

"no. you weren't thinking. you're naïve y/n. you think we have to live with just our traumas from the games. you think there's an end to it all. that once you get over what happened in the arena you'll be able to live a normal life. the life. the life they promised us when they said we'd win the games. well i'm sure living it!" she chuckles darkly, arms flailing out and raising her voice to the ceiling.

"it never ends y/n. all they do is take and take until we're as bare and barren as the farms we take care of."

you blink stupidly, the reality of what she's saying settling in.

"you admire me for how well i lie." she spits the word out, mouth dripping venom and eyes furious, "i lie to survive. everyone does. the capitol lies to us, promising us riches and glory for winning the games. that's why districts like 1 and 2 exist right? why careers fight to volunteer to kill other kids in the arena? i wonder if they'd go back in time and do the same thing once they realise what winning actually means. we're not real to them y/n. we're not humans. we're products. expensive, dolled up, murderers they have on a leash."

she sighs heavily, both hands coming to rake her hair backwards. "i'm sorry. i was meant to be your mentor. i was meant to prepare you for all of this." her voice cracks, you stare at her, mouth agape, processing all this new information, "but i couldn't. i just couldn't. i was so happy when you won. i thought i could protect you from it all."

"w-what do you mean protect me?"

she slumps, her posture giving out, you've never seen her so broken. "they wanted to start you off last year. because you were already 18 when you won." she scoffs, "not that it stopped them from starting me when i was 15. i convinced them to give you a year. i wanted you to know what it felt like to win. to be free of it all, to have your belly full, to be with your family, to be able to live without the fear of not waking up the next day."

you gawk at her in horror, "what did you do nayeon?"

she chuckles darkly again, "i said i'd take your customers. until your year was over."

"you- what?!"

she wipes at her eyes angrily, picking up a spoon and stabbing it into her food, "it's fine y/n. it's not a big deal."

"wha- nayeon- it is a big deal! this- you can't- i'll kill-"

suddenly she's got a hand clamped over your mouth, so close you can see the redness of her eyes, the small freckles that dot her skin. "don't say something you'll regret. they have ears everywhere."

you gulp, nodding, wide-eyed as she lets you go.

"w-what about what you said?"

"i didn't say anything explicit. and you were going to find out soon anyway. your year is almost up."

"what- why haven't you fought back? why have you gone along with this for so long?"

she laughs thickly, "careful. that's rebellion you're talking about."

"but it's not fair! the deal was once we won we won! the only thing we should have to do is become mentors! and even doing that is cruel enough being forced to relive the games each year!"

"there are no limits to how cruel humans can be y/n."

"i- but- but still!"

"i have family. so do you. what do you think happens to them if you say no?"

that makes you pause, thinking back to your parents who worked so hard to bring you and your siblings up. who kept you alive until you were 18. lots of kids weren't that fortunate. many died from starvation, or of the unhygienic circumstances back home.

you collect yourself, taking a breath, nayeon was still inches away from you, studying your reactions. "do they know?" you ask softly.

she sighs, shaking her head, "my mother went through enough when my dad died. even more when i was reaped for the games. she thinks my trips away are just meeting people in the capitol for business ventures or whatever. it makes sense because i always bring back large sums of money. and my sister... i never want her to find out how cruel this world is. it's enough she still has to be entered into the reapings at least once a year, but that'll stop soon when she turns 18. and then i hope to just give her a normal life. she'll never have to worry over me again."

"nayeon..."

she sniffles, "it's fine y/n. worry about yourself. i can't look after you anymore. i'm sorry."

"are you kidding?! nayeon please... i don't- do you not understand what you mean to me? i owe you my life. and now i find out you've been doing this for me for the past year. you don't have to protect me. i can protect myself. i won my games didn't i?" you try for a smile, she gives you a teary one back.

"i just- i never knew nayeon i'm sorry. i'm sorry i didn't know you were going through all this on your own. i wished you'd told me. i wished you wouldn't shoulder all this on your own. we know you're strong. we all saw your games, we know you're capable of survivng. you don't have to keep proving that. you can rely on others every once in a while."

"others like you?" she jokes, smiling up at you.

"yeah. like me. i'm the only other one that can relate. that can understand. i want to be there for you. i told you, i owe you my life, my family's lives. that's a debt i'll never be able to repay. i want to do as much as i can in this lifetime to be there for you."

"you don't have to do that y/n-"

"yes. yes i do. you've been there for me this entire time, without me even knowing. when will you let me do the same for you?"

that gives her pause, she hides under wisps of hair that have fallen down over her forehead.

you ache to brush them away, to cup her cheeks, to see those eyes again.

your wish is granted when she looks up after a second, pupils glassy. and then without another word she's burying herself in the crevice of your neck, arms coming up to wrap around you, taking a shaky inhale. you react just like you had when she had thrown that pin at you, immediately reciprocating, pushing your cheek against hers and circling your arms around her waist.

you stay there for an immeasurable amount of time. unsaid words drifting between you, sharing emotions, pain. nayeon finally feels like she's not alone for the first time since she'd won her games 9 years ago. and you finally feel at peace in her arms, the ghosts that haunted you gone for the moment.

the both of you wound up in nayeon's bed that night. it wasn't awkward, the complete opposite. you naturally gravitated towards her after she finishes eating, and she lets you cling to her. when you fall asleep, limbs entangled and hearts beating in tandem, you'll realise in the morning, it's the first time the both of you will have had a full night's rest without any of your regrets invading your dreams.

»┼)➝

the horn sounds. you grip nayeon's hand as the competitors rush forwards, you try taking in as much of the arena as you could, as if you were standing on the platforms in the arena for the first time again. you were lucky in your games to have been granted fields of tall grass. it obstructed all of the other competitors’ vision and would prove very difficult to hide in, but you were practiced in moving around between blades of wheat that grew up to 2m tall back home without making a sound. this year it seems they took a more traditional approach, the cornucopia is in the middle of the arena as always, plain desert and beating sun the only thing visible. you can make out sand dunes on the far right of the arena. it would be hard to find a water source. your eyes lock onto your tributes, praying they make it through the initial bloodbath. they're not placed in a position they can see each other, in this scenario, you and nayeon had instructed them to run for it. don't bother with the initial bloodbath, the first thing they'd need to find was water.

you breathe a sigh of relief when you see adeline do exactly that. she makes for the dunes you spotted earlier, leaving behind the chaos of the first few minutes. but then the camera pans to julian, seemingly frozen on his platform, completely petrified as he watches the girl from district 8 fall to her knees after someone launches a javelin at her.

"move!" you're extremely tense watching the scene, trying to maintain your composure as you knew you were still in public, the opening of the games was always a big spectacle, all the mentors were situated up in viewing boxes while the capitol watched along on massive screens.

nayeon grips your hand tighter, a warning not to be too loud, to keep on that mask.

you spare a glance at her, her features are tight in concentration, eyes glued to the little figures on the screen.

your head whips back when the crowd suddenly howls. it seems the career pack has formed and has just taken down both the tributes from district 12. it disgusts you how these people can cheer over the deaths of children.

julian has finally started moving though. he leaps off the platform and runs forward.

no. no no no. he needs to run away from the cornucopia. you grit your teeth, he must have seen the deaths of the district 12 tributes and thought the careers would be distracted.

the camera follows as he crouches and dips past ongoing fights, he manages to grab a sword, but that's where his luck ends. the girl from district four is wielding a nasty trident, charging straight for him. he tries to fend her off with his sword, catching it in one of the prongs of the trident, but then with horror, his feet catch on the sand. he hasn't gotten used to the terrain yet. he must have known running on sand was much more difficult than running on regular ground or the concrete of the training grounds. the girl takes the opportunity to yank her trident back, and then jabs it straight into him, all three prongs go through his chest and out the other side. you can see him cough up blood in shock, hands coming up to rest on the handle of the trident, she pushes him down and steps on his stomach to yank her weapon back out, already on the lookout for her next victim.

you can't believe what just happened. you had knew him. you had spoken to him. you had just seen and touched him this morning before he was flown off to the arena. it's completely unreal. the crowd roars with glee.

your mind can't keep up with your eyes. there's no way he was dead. the sounds, senses of the crowd drown out, you stare blankly at the main screen, watching other kids be cut down left and right, kids smaller than your youngest siblings, all while people dressed up in nauseating colours and patterns placed bets and had their children play fight with toy swords and weapons imitating real life people that died for their entertainment.

"y/n- y/n... y/n!" nayeon's shaking you out of your stupor, you blink, looking down at your intertwined hands, her concerned look that's quickly masked with a smile.

"the announcer was just asking you for some comments about the opening." you can see straight through her smile, you've spent much more time together over the past couple weeks while you were preparing your tributes for the games. you didn't explicitly talk about it, but you'd always end up in her bed each night, cuddled up and talking about everything and nothing until you both fell asleep. it was the only way you could sleep these days, and you knew it was the same for her.

you look past her shoulder to see a short man with bright green hair and a matching moustache. he smiles expectantly, teeth all white and glowing, holding out a microphone to you.

nayeon squeezes your hand again, hidden under the tresses of your gowns.

you clear your throat, awkwardly leaning forward and looking into the camera panned towards you, "r-right. um well it's pretty standard from what we can see. my arena last year must have made it difficult to see all the... fighting so it seems they've gone with something a lot more open this year." you try for a joke, earning a boisterous laugh from the man with green hair and from some in the audience who were looking on where your face was projected on one of the smaller screens next to the main livestream.

"we can definitely see all the juicy bits more clearly can't we!"

juicy bits?! is he trying to remind us of the bloody insides of all the kids being slashed open?! what kind of sick joke is it to use those words?! nayeon saves you the outburst, speaking up with a smile and a voice you know she's only ever used when talking to capitol media.

"definitely! and i must say wilbur your moustache is fantastic this year!"

he blushes, twirling the green hair on his upper lip, "thank you nayeon. you're as beautiful as always. and i'm glad to see you're finally accompanied by another victor your age! it must have been very lonely these last few years on your own."

nayeon's hand tightens against you. you want to punch this man in the face.

"yes i'm very glad to have y/n here. we make a fine team don't you think?" she grins. you notice the angrier she is, the more absurd her acting is, almost as if she's testing the limits of just how far she can go before people finally realise she's been sarcastic the entire time.

"of course! 2 fine ladies such as yourselves, you're both a hit in the capitol! i'm sure lots of fellas in the crowd tonight would love to see you two team up another time."

there's an uproar in the crowd, obviously male voices hollering and agreeing with laughter.

you're absolutely revolted at the implication. so you can't stop yourself when the next words fall out of your mouth, "i'm sure you'd know a lot about teaming up wouldn't you wilbur? how many fellas do you have twirled around that moustache of yours?"

nayeon is barely able to conceal a scoff, hiding it as a cough into your shoulder. you smile daringly, all teeth as wilbur stares at you aghast.

he clears his throat, "i'm not quite sure i know what you mean by that y/n."

"oh nothing. just wondering how many balls you have to play with when you do that team sport out here... i don't quite recall the name, it must be something that is only really fashionable out here in the capitol."

"r-right. sports. ahaha! you must have gotten me mixed up with someone else y/n! yes that must be it. everyone here will know i'm not really one for sports." he tries to steer the subject off, his face burning up bright red, with his green hair he looks like a mishappen christmas tree. he moves on quickly after that, going to interview less problematic mentors.

"you shouldn't always let them get away with shit like that nayeon." you frown when the attention is off you again, whispering into her ear.

she shakes her head, "sometimes it's better to let it go than to bring it up. more trouble than it's worth. you did very well though. are you okay? you zoned out a bit back there."

you sigh, running your thumb over hers gently, "yeah. just... wasn't prepared i guess. adeline is still in it though, she's got a decent chance if she manages to find water."

"you can never prepare for this. i'm sorry."

"there's nothing to apologise for. you warned me on the train, about what it's like. nothing compares to the real thing though."

"i know. i'm here for you though okay? i couldn't physically help you in the arena but i can now."

"stop that nayeon. you did more than enough for me in the arena. i told you. i owe you my life."

she smiles. you're taken aback by the genuinity of it. the slightly dimmed lighting, her makeup not too over the top like some of the people you've seen walking around the capitol, but accentuating her already flawless features even better. you knew she was attractive, you'd have to be blind not to. and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought of nayeon as something more. you pushed it down though. people like you and nayeon didn't have the luxury of feelings like love.

you quickly break away from her gaze and those perfectly heart-shaped lips, looking back to the aftermath of the opening minutes. but even the grim bloodied bodies littering the floor that you can barely comprehend are real, do little for the blush that dusts your cheeks and the fluttering in your stomach.

»┼)➝

you can tell from the way she's breathing nayeon’s not asleep yet either. one of her arms is draped over your midriff, her breaths lightly hitting the back of your neck, legs entangled with your own.

"you're still awake." you whisper out into the quiet of her bedroom walls.

"so are you."

you don't dare turn to face her, knowing your faces would be centimetres apart, breaths hitting each other's lips, noses almost touching.

"i can't get it out my head. the way the trident just went through him. like he was made of clay."

her voice is soft, careful, "i’ll never forget any of them. not any of my kills.”

“he wasn’t your kill nayeon. the tributes you mentored aren’t your kills.”

“they may as well be. as a mentor, surely i can do something. but every year is the same. i don’t learn. i can’t do anything for them.”

“you helped me survive.”

she sighs, breath tickling the back of your neck, her arms wrap around you just a little tighter. “i told you. you’re different.”

“how?”

“you just are. i don’t know how to explain it.”

“you don’t have to. i… nevermind. still, i don’t think you should think of the tributes we mentor as people we’ve killed. it’s the capitol, everything’s them, that’s the big enemy remember?” your voice is hushed, paranoid they’re listening in somehow but also desperate to soothe nayeon’s worries.

“it doesn’t change what i did. all victors are murderers. we lost our innocence the day our names were pulled out of that bowl.”

“you’re right. we have to live with that. but at least we’re not alone now.” you decide to risk it, turning and shuffling around the bed until your nose to nose. you can feel the blush creeping up your cheeks already, wisps of her hair tickling your face, her eyes shining in the dark.

she stares at you for a little, eyes darting around your face. "you're right. we're not alone now." she speaks in a whisper, breath gently kissing your lips with her words.

you can't help but look down at her slightly parted, heart-shaped lips, her breaths coming in and out softly, luring you in. you're magnetised. the tension between you two is undeniable, thick enough to make you feel almost drowsy, eyes drooping and lidded, only focused on tracing the shape of her lips.

nayeon's the one to break it.

she leans in closer, hand tightening around your waist, closing her eyes and pressing your lips together. it's not sparks or lightning, it's just two mouths moving against one another, finding comfort in one another, it's soft and pure and everything the capitol robbed the two of you of when they turned you into murderers.

but then it's not. there's a salty tinge to her, the taste of tears. you open your eyes slowly, breaking away from her, she takes the opportunity to inhale shakily.

"nayeon?" you frown, immediately concerned you've overstepped.

she hides her face in your neck, squeezing herself against you.

"hey... what happened? what's wrong?"

"we- w-we can't." her voice is wobbly, there are still tears dripping down her face.

your heart sinks, "we can't?"

"i'm- i can't- i'm a product y/n. you'll become one too. i can't- i can't lose you too."

"but- you won't lose me."

"you don't know that y/n. you don't know what the capitol is capable of. if they find out we're- if they find out we care for each other like that they'll tear us apart. we can never have what normal people have."

"but that won't stop me from caring for you! and i know that's not going to stop you either."

"but when- i don’t- when they start selling you off i don’t know how i’ll be able to- to not kill them all."

you bring a hand up to her cheek, forcing her to look at you, thumb swiping across the skin under her eye, wiping off her tears, "i know. i don't know how i'll be able to do it either. but you're worth it. i haven't felt- i haven't felt this understood, i've spent so long thinking i'm alone, that i'll have to spend the rest of my life like this, but you make me feel happy. after all we've been through don't you think we deserve that?"

"but- but- they can't know y/n- they can't take you away from me."

"and they won't. i promise. do you trust me?"

nayeon stares up at you, her eyes shining, lip wobbly. she bites down into it after a second, breathing out a small "yes."

"i trust you too. anything they throw at us, we'll take it together. okay?"

she sighs, nodding, bringing a shaky hand up to feel you, just to make sure you were real, that she wasn't conjuring all this up to cope with her trauma. you lean into her touch, hand coming up to grip her wrist and squeeze, leaning in and touching your nose against hers, feeling safer than you've ever felt in your entire life.

»┼)➝

the next day is more of the same. at least this time you're not in a display box so you can have genuine reactions and you can be close to nayeon in the privacy of your own floor, finding comfort in her arms and words.

you spend the morning cuddled up, choosing to eat breakfast on the couch while the livestream of the arena plays. when there's nothing interesting going on they have live coverage of news anchors and commentators reacting to replays and talking about what happened during the night that the audience may have missed while they were asleep. adeline hasn't been seen on screen much but you know she's still alive and has found a small alcove in the desert with cacti that she can cut open to drink water from. still, you know it won't last her and nayeon and you plan on going out during lunch when most of the capitol citizens will be out and about to start finding sponsors to send water or food to adeline in the arena.

by the time you're in the city you come to realise just how good nayeon is at networking. you trail behind her like a lost puppy while she greets extravagantly overdressed citizens of the upper circle with a bright smile, compliments, and sparkling eyes. she seems to understand that you're much newer at this so she brings you along as a prop of sorts, convincing new and old sponsors to sponsor district 9 once again, after all, the most recent victor did come from district 9, and adeline was tutored by you with the most recent experience winning which made her someone to look out for in the later days of the games.

there are lots more people that recognise than you think, colours and materials you've never seen or felt before invading your senses, fake voices and compliments trying to get on your good side, you can simply smile and try your best to keep up.

eventually, you're seperated from nayeon when a short man engages you in a conversation about hair products and how you got yours to be so shiny and natural, you only nod along while he talks your ear off about different products and chemicals he's tried on his orange mess of a flat top, you can only provide clueless agreements and your simple hair routine back home. but you manage to steer the conversation back to the games and actually manage to get him to donate something as long as he gets the name of the random shampoo brand you use back home.

once you wave him off, you excitedly look around for nayeon, eager to tell her about your first donation that you managed all on your own. but as you scan the square, you can’t seem to catch sight of her.

you frown, wandering around a little until you spot her, hidden away in the shadows behind a few pillars. your eyes light up, almost skipping over to her until you realise she’s with someone else.

“stop- no i don’t want to-“

“c’mon you want sponsors don’t you? i’ll give you double what your highest donation is if you come now-“

“no! i’m not rostered on right now you can’t just- you can’t approach me in public like this-“

“no one saw us sweetheart c’monnn if we go now we can leave quietly. besides i saw your other victor and she’s doing alright on her own, she won’t even notice you’re gone.”

the man she’s with is gripping nayeon’s forearm harshly, when he starts pulling her away you step in, clearing your throat, eyes flaring up. “i did notice she was gone actually.”

nayeon whips her head around to you, but you can barely see her, your gaze is fixed on the way he still has his fingers wrapped around her, squeezing so tight her skin is white around his fingers.

your eyes trail up to his face when he laughs, not letting go of nayeon, “oh! y/n right? don’t worry nayeon and i are good friends. i’m just gonna borrow her for a bit yeah?”

you step forward, an arm sliding around nayeon’s waist protectively, glaring up into his blue eyes and perfectly sculpted nose, “is that true nayeon?” you don’t back down from his sleazy gaze while you direct the question to the older woman.

his eyes flick over to her, a warning in his eyes.

“i-it’s okay y/n i can handle this just go back to the square.”

you frown, unwilling to let her go, “no.”

the man raises an eyebrow, “you two a package deal now or something?”

nayeon bristles then, yanking her arm away from him, “don’t fucking touch her.”

the man backs up, surprised, “woah! calm down bunny i was just joking around.”

nayeon flushes at the nickname, “whatever josh. i told you i’m not rostered right now. book me in for when i’m actually available.”

“and her?” he smirks, nodding his head to you.

she grits her teeth, “take it up with your agent. don’t contact me outside again or i’ll make sure you won’t be able to buy any one of us.”

she doesn’t wait for him to respond, pulling you away and back into the main area.

you’re quiet, processing the information you just learnt. she doesn’t look at you, eyebrows furrowed, hand tight against yours.

“… was that one of your customers?”

she sighs, “yeah. one of my pushier ones.”

“i’m sorry.”

“what for? he pays well.” she spits out, storming back to your accommodation, deciding socialising for the day is done, she had collected enough donations today.

“i’m sorry you have to deal with him.”

“it’s not your fault.” she says simply, pulling you into the elevator and punching in your floor number.

you ascend silently, fiddling with your fingers, unsure of what else to say.

when you arrive, your fingers are still interlaced with hers, but she relaxes as soon as you step in, letting her mask drop.

“you did really well today.”

she smiles at you then, “thank you. i saw you grab that last donation too. adeline will be happy.”

you step closer to her, tentative and shy, her eyes crinkle at the sight. “thank you.”

“what for?”

you step closer again, swinging your intertwined hands slightly, “protecting me all that time.”

her hand tightens against yours.

“can you actually do that? stop him from using your… services?”

she snorts, “no. but he doesn’t know that. all he thinks about is his dick anyway, any danger to that and he’ll back off.”

“do they ever hurt you?”

her eyes soften, looking into yours, searching. “sometimes. sometimes it gives them pleasure. other times they like to take out their anger on us. maybe they’ve had a bad day or they’ve had a fight with their spouse at home or whatever else. they don’t need an excuse to treat us however they like.”

“that’s terrible.”

“it’s the world we live in.”

“what if we… what if we were a package deal?”

she raises an eyebrow, “what do you mean?”

“if they had to book us together. it’d make me feel better, if i could protect you somehow while we’re in there. that you have someone else there in case anything extreme happens. and…” you blush, thinking over your next words, “i know i have to… share you, but at least this way i can see what others do to you, so i still have some semblance of control over the situation.”

nayeon hums, pulling you in by the waist so you're no longer awkwardly hovering around her trying to think of how to get closer to her, "i can ask. that's a good idea y/n. and i'm sure lots of people would love to see two pretty girls getting it on." she jokes.

you blush, looping your arms around her neck loosely, playing with the hair at the back of her neck that has come out of her updo, "i don't- i've never- y'know..."

there's a hint of a smirk on her face, you're avoiding her gaze, "you've never...?"

you whine, knowing she's teasing you on purpose, pushing her away from you but she laughs, pulling you back into her and pecking you gently, "do you want to? there's no rush. i'm worried we may be taking things a bit fast but as long as you're comfortable i'm okay with whatever."

you look at her determinedly, "i don't think we can move too fast. i think we should take whatever we can get while things are good before the capitol tries to break us apart. i want to be with you, all of you, for as long as you'll let me."

nayeon smiles, leaning her forehead against yours, "i want to be with you for as long as you'll let me as well."

you reciprocate her smile, leaning in and pressing your lips against hers, hesitant, but loving. she responds immediately, one hand remaining at your waist and another coming up to rest on the crevice of your neck. you move easily against each other, it's comfortable, safe, you're both on the same wavelength, and nayeon treats you with utmost respect and adoration, ensuring you felt just as loved as she felt, keeping you grounded and at-home in her arms.

»┼)➝

it's another few days before something big happens. nayeon and you spend every minute wrapped up in one another, basking in the comfort and excitement of something new yet reminiscent of innocent, purer times.

that shatters completely when it gets to day 6 of the games.

adeline has managed to survive this long without coming into real contact with any of the other surviving tributes. nayeon has done most of the brunt work in receiving sponsorships and donations which you use strategically to lead adeline towards water sources or away from enemy tributes that may be nearing her location.

however, it seems the gamemakers had had enough of her cat and mouse game by the time there are only 5 tributes left, adeline, the boy from district 1, the two from district 2, and the girl from district 11 who managed to create her own water and food source in the barely repairable soil, turning it into her own farm using knowledge from her home district.

it was nearing the finale, and everyone in the audience knew it. the anticipation would put pressure on the gamemakers to bring out their final tricks, to lure all the tributes into one location to fight it out to the end.

that trick turned out to be a sandstorm in the night, blinding all the tributes, throwing off coordinates, destroying the girl from 11's farm, and forcing all the contestants to stumble blindly in the dark while the storm whipped around them harshly, sand cutting into skin and drying up lips while the cold chill of the desert night only made it even more difficult to find one's senses.

the girl from district 2 was smart, she used the sandstorm and her teammates' confusion to her advantage, taking the chance to stab the boy from 1, making him think it was the boy from 2, and letting them fight it out while she ran off, abandoning the career alliance that was inevitably going to break down towards the end of the games anyway. the boy from 2 ends up being able to defend himself well enough to deliver the finishing blow on the boy from 1, but he sustained fatal injuries in the process and died slowly and painfully in the storm while the sand lapped at his open wounds and his mouth gasped for water through mouthfuls of sand, wishing he was the one who was killed first.

when the storm finally dies down, the audience can see the carnage it has wrecked on the arena, three girls left, all within a 20 minute radius of one another. if it wasn't clear this was the endgame, it was definitely clear now.

the entire topography has been shifted, everything is now covered in sand. there would be no food, no water, the girls would either starve or thirst to death first in which case it would be a test of endurance, or find each other first and win the games to end their own form of suffering in living in this unlivable arena.

the girl from 11 seemed to want to take the former approach, burrowing herself under dunes of sand, digging for her farm and hoping the desert heat and lack of water would mirage her location into regular sand dunes while she hid until the final 2. the girl from 2 is set on the latter, going on the prowl immediately to find the remaining two contestants and claim her victory.

unfortunately for adeline, because the girl from 11 hid herself so well, it meant she came into contact with the girl from 2 first.

she puts up a good fight. everyone in the capitol is on the edge of their seats. as soon as the storm had cleared, nayeon and you had immediately sent adeline some supplies, water, a basic first-aid kit to tend to the wounds she had received earlier in the games, anything to let her know you were both still watching and keeping an eye on her, that she wasn't alone despite the immense loneliness and hopelessness she must have felt living in the desert for the last 6 days.

but even that wasn't enough to deal with the mental pressure of being in that situation for so long, thinking you actually have a chance of winning, of going home, she let her guard down, openly gulping down water while the girl from 2 crept up behind her.

adeline reacts just in time, throwing her bottle away and picking up the sword she had retrieved off a dead tribute's body earlier on in the game, swiping blindly in order to create some distance.

she manages to find her footing, standing on both legs, eyes zeroing in on her opponent who has already started lunging forward with her next attack. her weapon is longer, able to reach further, but adeline is tall and gifted with long limbs, able to maneuver herself out of the way before getting impaled by the pointy end of a spear, whipping around quickly to slice a deep cut in the girl's arm while it's still outstretched holding the spear.

the girl yelps out in pain, but quickly recovers, switching the spear to her non-dominant hand, jabbing forward without missing a beat, gritting her teeth in effort.

the crowd in the captiol is cheering, throwing popcorn, placing last minute bets, rowdier than ever after they couldn't clearly see the fight between the boys from districts 1 and 2 because the sandstorm had lowered visibility on the cameras. now, they could see every parry, every stab, every drop of blood that’s splattered onto hot, golden sand. the pure bloodlust is nonsensical.

adeline manages to block off each advance, but there's simply nowhere left to run or hide, everything that could be used has been covered by sand, there's only acres and acres of desert. so it makes sense when she loses her footing on the loose grains, falling onto her back and losing grip of her sword. the girl from 2 is quick to kick it away and out of reach, and adeline is tired, thirsty, and near delusional from being in the heat and arena for so long, that the ripping squelch that sounds out on speakers across the country as the girl from 2 shoves the end of her spear into adeline's chest, comes almost as a blessing, ending her pain at last.

the gamemakers are able to lure the girl from two to the girl from 11's hiding spot after that, and the final battle ensues, the girl from 2 rising up on top, bloodied and battered but grinning with the glee and pride only those in the career districts could have after killing and coming out on top over 23 other children.

you barely have time to mourn adeline's death, you and nayeon are both thrusted into interviews immediately, forced to watch replays and close-ups of the killing, to watch the life drain out of adeline’s eyes over and over again, asked for comments and messages to send back home, to congratulate the winner on becoming one of you, a murderer.

and even worse, when the day’s finally over and you can retire to your safe space in your apartment for your last night there, nayeon is called out for a premium customer, someone paying triple the normal fare to spend one more night with her before she goes back to her district. so you're left alone, watching repeated news coverage of the hunger games from start to finish, dolled up 'scientists' and gamemakers being brought on for interviews and time to analyse kills and strategies the tributes used, milking every drop of profit and entertainment out of the deaths of children not their own.

you'd watch something else but every channel on capitol television is talking about the end of the games, you switch every time your face, or your post-games interview comes up, cringing at the way you looked and spoke, feeling as if you betrayed your district for dishonouring adeline and julian's deaths by dragging them out for the enjoyment of people who never cared for them, wanting desperately to go home and find their parents and offer your condolences, and maybe sneak some of your victor rations to their families so they at least didn't have to worry about another death. you were determined to take care of all of your mentee's families, you know it's what you would've wanted if you had died in that arena.

by the time nayeon comes back, you've already settled in her bed, cuddled up on her side and taking in the scent she's left behind, the tv still playing in her room at a low volume.

you sit up immediately when you hear her come into the room, closing the door softly behind her. she looks at you and smiles defeatedly. "you look cute."

you blush, burrowing into her sheets more which only serves to widen the smile on her face, "are you okay?" you ask.

"i need a shower."

she doesn't say anything else. you remember the last time she came home this late, not having eaten anything and only wanting to get rid of the feeling of another person's hands on her body off of her. you nod, shy, letting her walk around collecting clothes and heading into the bathroom.

she doesn't bother closing the door. you appreciate the gesture. it's a dramatic change from the first time she had locked you outside her room unknowingly, to think she trusts you enough to leave the door unlocked in her most vulnerable state warms your heart. you hate the capitol for what they've done to her, what they'll continue to do to her. at least this was the last time she would have to do it alone, she had talked to higher ups in the capitol and gotten president snow himself to agree to your proposition, you'd hope your presence would at least ease some of the tension she felt during those sessions.

you hear the shower turn on, and you hesitate, thinking over your next moves carefully.

after some deliberation, you quietly move off her bed, padding to the bathroom and stripping off the pyjamas you had already put on when you were getting ready for bed.

you stand outside the fogged up door for a second, admiring her silhouette, but soon grow cold, opening the door gently and announcing your presence to not frighten her.

she turns, surprised, bar of soap in her hand, hair wet and squinting at you without her glasses or contacts on. she's adorable.

"y/n?"

"hi... is it okay if i join you?" your arms bracket your chest, suddenly shy even though she's seen all of you already.

she smiles, pulling you in under the stream of hot water, "of course. i'm sorry i'm not really feeling up to doing anything today-"

"no! i didn't- no i didn't come in with that intention i just... wanted to help you get clean."

she blinks up at you, water still running over her face and hair, and then she pulls you down into a wet kiss, arms still holding onto yours as you kiss her back sweetly.

you break away first, smiling and nudging your nose against hers, "turn around, i'll do your back first."

she follows, bending her neck down so the water doesn't get in her eyes, handing you the bar of soap she was holding.

you lather her back up, caressing the small scars and moles you had memorised. you had asked the story of each one, and nayeon had told you. your heart broke with each scar, most of them from her games, but some of them from rougher times with clients, others from when she was even younger, working the fields and factories back home. there were more from when she was young, but most of them were surgically removed or fixed when she was first fitted for her games, her stylists wanted her to look as young and as pure as her age suggested, hoping to entice sponsors either out of pity or admiration.

you rub her shoulders, work the knots in her back while you wash her, feel her relax under your touch.

when you get to her right thigh, you're extremely careful, and nayeon takes notice.

"it's okay. it doesn't hurt anymore."

you frown, rubbing gently over the largest scar on her body, the one she covered up most often and got in her finale fight in the games. "i know. i still want to be careful though."

she smiles, pecking your cheek while you concentrate on cleaning her to the best of your ability. she had opened up about how disgusted she would feel in her own body after she would come back from sessions with her clients, often spending an hour or more scrubbing away at her skin until it was red and irritated and hurt to continue before she finally felt clean. you were determined to make her feel loved, feel safe in her own skin, and do so without hurting her.

when you finally come out of the shower, you're quick to wrap her up in a towel first, patting the rest of her down dry and sitting her down on a stool, grabbing the hair dryer and brush.

she scolds you in the process, telling you you'll catch a cold if you don't dry yourself off first. you pout but do as she says, quickly drying yourself off and slipping into your pyjamas again.

then your hands are back at her hair, combing through gently with your fingers first, before turning on the hair dryer.

she watches you with a smile, her eyes crinkling upwards at the way your eyebrows furrow in concentration, drying each part of her head with meticulous attention.

when it's just slightly damp you turn it off, placing it back down and start to brush through her hair, wincing and apologising with each knot you work through. nayeon giggles, constantly reassuring you it was fine with each apology, but her reassurances do little to quell your concern.

it's quiet, peaceful in the bathroom, just the two of you.

"my mother used to do this for me when i was young."

"mine too."

"it feels nice."

"i'm glad."

"are you ready to go back?"

"as long as i have you."

"you'll always have me."

you meet her eyes in the mirror, "will your mother be okay with this?"

"you brushing my hair?" she jokes.

you whine, "you know what i meant. us."

she smiles, "yes. both my mother and my sister only want to see me happy. they know how much the games affected me, they're just glad i'm still alive."

"mine too." you repeat.

"…even if they weren't, you know i wouldn't stop wanting to be with you right?"

you blush again, easily affected by her, "i know."

she nods, satisfied, the both of you falling into an easy silence again.

you think this isn't too bad. living out the rest of your life with nayeon like this. she helped you forget all the bad stuff, but also reminded you of all the things you've been through together, you healed each other. in no other universe, no other situation, no other time, would you be able to find this kind of love with nayeon, and that little special thing the both of you share, it makes everything you've gone through and will go through a little more bearable.

[gh0st-t0wn3]

I finally had time to make proper designs for the Trio!

Redson: Ver 1

Ver 2

I couldn't decide on if I liked it better with the braids or not so I just posted both, but anyways!

I gotta admit, I used to not like the idea of redson having Bull features (except for a small pair of horn maybe) but the concept really grew on me and now I really love it and wanted to try making my own design and I'm really proud with how it turned out.

I would've added more scars, since Guanyins throne pierced his entire body, but there came a point where it just looked like there was too much going on so I had to get rid of a few scars to tone it down, so we're just gonna say they faded over time, okay? Okay.

I also made him Miao (one of the largest ethnic minorities in southwest China) on PIF's side, and Mongolian on DBK's.

The Miao ethnicity of China has a long history, rich culture, and an ancient folk religion. Adorned in beautiful traditional clothes, possessing natural talent for singing and dancing, they live in uniquely designed indigenous architecture, which I think fits perfectly with how I imagined Princess Iron Fan and with her; Redson.

As for DBK being Mongolian, I saw someone else talking about this headcanon and I just liked it so I decided to use it, I don't really have a specific reason for it, I just thought it fit, not sure why though, it's just one of those things that makes sense even if you don't know why, you know?

Mei:

I made her taller and gave her a long dragon tail (like really long, it drags along the floor if she's not holding it up), though her scales are pretty much everywhere across her body they're most noticeable on her shoulders, thighs, and face (they're a bit hard to see in this photo because they're kinda hidden behind her hair, but I did give her scales beside her eyes)

I also gave her horns these little spiral designs around them, gave her sharper nails, and designed her ears to look like coral, since she's a water dragon and I thought they looked cool.

Honestly idk what else to say about her design, I didn't have anything specific in mind when designing her, I kinda just had to wing it, but I'm happy with how it turned out :)

(I also made her Bengali, on her dad's side, but it's not really important or has any reason behind it, just a headcanon I've had for a while, don't know where it came from though)

MK:

Alot of people have speculated that the monkey form we see during the fight against Azure in season 4 isn't MK's full form yet, that we're just seeing a fraction of what he's yet to become, based on the fact that while he has the weird side burns, the tail and the face marking, he also lacks a natural skin tone, they didn't give him a proper nose etc, so I wanted to play with the idea.

I decided to make him this strange mix between human and monkey, leaving him pretty much human with the addition of his tail(s), and weird li'l monkey feet.

(I was also gonna give MK more arm/leg hair, it was in my first sketch, but I forgot to add them when I was doing the line art and didn't realize until after I saved it as a jpeg, so that's my bad, but I'm gonna add it in to any other art I make)

It's also a bit hard to see in this, but I designed his staff with more details, specifically adding dragon-esque imagery to the Golden ends, this is because (for anyone who's new to the fandom/hasn't read JTTW) Wukong's staff was originally one of the several pillars that held up the sea in the dragon palace, until he stole it and shrunk it down to use as his weapon.

I also did MK's clones :)

Porty MK:

I gave him stripes of coloured hair and gave his tails all different colours, though I don't think he would actually dye it, instead I like to think that he would use that really crappy dollar store spray in hair dye (or hair chalk). I kept the fishnet clothes that I added in my originally design of him for my headcanons post, and decided to give him striped elbow length fingerless gloves.

I also gave him a cropped shirt, ripped shorts and these weird fingerless glove-esque shoes for convenience, since regular shows seem like they would be uncomfortable.

Edit: my dumbass forgot Porty's stupid print jacket 😭

Artist MK:

For Artist MK I gave him overalls and a jacket over it, which he wears specifically for when he's doing paintings so he doesn't ruin too many of his actual clothes (I know I said that this was inspod by Circusapple, which it still is, but this is almost exactly what I wear when I'm painting too, just in different colours).

I also gave him those gloves that digital artists wear so they're hands don't accidently trigger something on the screen because everyone knows that every artist just walks around with their art glove on even when it's not necessary.

Delivery MK:

I have to admit, I was never a big fan of MK's work uniform just being his regular clothes with a work jacket thrown over it so I wanted to try and make him look a little more professional and decided to instead give him a chef coat (similar to the one Pigsy wears on the show as well), with a logo for the restaurant on the chest, along with it I gave him plain black pants, since casual red jeans didn't seem very professional (I know he's just a delivery person, but if you were to look at pretty much any food corporation, even people who do deliveries have to wear uniform, so it's always been kinda strange to me that he's just in regular clothes). 

The shoes were harder to make professional given the whole "half-monkey" thing so I opted to give him the same strange fingerless glove-esque shoes for comfort and convenience, but made them plain black as well.

[siren-nate]

There's something I see overlooked when discussing the different character traits of the Color Gang members. Red is hot-blooded and the first to throw a punch, yes, but after that, he does not give up. Once he puts his mind to something, the guy just won't quit. He's almost pathologically stubborn and determined.

He's the last one to get taken over by the Orb, and he dives right into the ensuing 4v1. This kind of bravery isn't universal to the Color Gang - even Second Coming was paralyzed with fear when the Dark Lord vaporized all four of her friends.

In vs. League of Legends, he's the only one who still wants to try and fight to win the game after the entire group has been decimated by Purple's cheating.

When everyone's trapped in the Parkour loop, Red isn't the first one to get past his designated Brute guard, but he's the only one to get past without drawing a real weapon or using some outside-the-box tactic. He just keeps getting back up and fighting bare-handed until he wins.

This even applies to situations that don't involve fighting; in the Monster School, Red wasn't ready to give up on befriending his teammates even after putting up with their constant bullying. Hell, he's not ready to give up even after they keep bullying him while he's actively helping them.

Both times the Color Gang make their desperate last stand against King, Red is the first one to stand up, ready to keep fighting against impossible odds.

I know this next one is more silly, but he won't even let go of wanting to take a nap in the Nether, something that Yellow explains will kill him.

Despite the obvious dangers, Red can't let go of the idea of putting a Lucky Block in King's staff to see what could be achieved by combining them.

Do I even need to say anything about The Prank?

It takes four of GreenScreen's duplicates to pin him up to the wall, and he's still throwing punches.

When he has a chance to appease GreenScreen and get it to stop being so violent to them, he instead taunts it.

And when all the rest of the Color Gang are finding ways to entertain themselves while trapped by GreenScreen, Red seems to just be going crazy with boredom because there's literally nothing he can do in this situation to fight back.

Red is crazy determined and stubborn. It's both a positive and a negative character trait based on the situation, but I don't ever see anyone talking about it compared to people talking about how he's hot-blooded.

[kefi-catfish]

Soulslike AU

Once upon a time, Wukong looked up to the sky with eyes full of light and aspirations. His soul sang with dreams and desire to touch the heavens. To become part of the Celestial Order, one of the many stars illuminating the mortal world - the brightest, the biggest, outshining all the others.

Not just for himself, at first. For his subjects, his lands, his moon that kept him warm on cold nights. But it was hardly magnanimity that was at the top of everything. Behind the desire to give to others sprouted just as much a desire to take, to appropriate only for himself.

In canon, Wukong is humbled and shown the right path where cruelty has no place. In this AU, Heaven fails to catch the skittish monkey. In his greed, the Sage ceases to see boundaries. There is not a single living being who can stop a wild animal who thinks he is a god. There are no rules. Only greed.

With unlimited power, Wukong continued to climb forward. Further, higher. Why stop there? Why worry about the pitiful lives crunching beneath his claws and teeth? Ahead, at the very top, lies the forbidden poisonous fruit. The deities and other celestial creatures meet the blood-intoxicated monkey in all arms. Even with sweat dripping down their necks and weapons in their trembling hands.

The Celestial Realm loses with a cacophony of alien screams and falling debris from buildings.

Many years pass before one wanderer meets one child in a devastated world.

Wukong hardly had a plan, but his treacherous actions were clearly sequential. Heaven fell first, then the bloody gaze traveled lower. Dragons were a race that had been despised by the Sage long ago. Only the most skittish and the most unsightly survived, hiding their brightly colored skins at the bottom of the seas and oceans. One of the first places Wukong decided to visit with his bloody march was the palace where the staff was located, whose iron he was using to take lives.

Ao Guang was the one who decided to fight back against the madness that enveloped the King's mind. He fought desperately, with the realization that he could not win the battle. This gave enough time for those who also realized their own and the world's hopelessness to escape.

Nailing the dragon's body with his staff, Wukong kept the old man awake long enough to show him what happens to those who go against the Great Sage. Mei, being the youngest and most confident at her misfortune was a gift of fate to Wukong. With her help - Wukong could give a perfect lesson to the surviving worms that called themselves dragons about the foolishness of the idea of fighting back. Having shackled the girl, he left her at the very shore, with no way to get back out to sea. The bayonets-strong ribbons glinting in the sunlight from every attempt to break free of the shackles-clenched the bulky body with scorching pain. She remained there, still struggling to break free, unable to see the light of the sun that had long ago hidden the stench of death Wukong had brought.

And Sun Wukong, the Monkey King.

He wears a Macaque scarf and a cape made of Azure Lion skin.

(if you find any errors in the text, I apologize in advance. English is not my first language)

[sunderwight]

Time travel fic where Vader gets the chance to go back in time, any time, and change his history.

So he goes back to when he was still a slave boy living on Tatooine with his mother.

He avoids the Jedi. Qui-Gon doesn't get the money for the parts they need, so the Queen doesn't reach Coruscant in a timely fashion, and the ousting of the Trade Federation is delayed. Which sucks ass for Naboo. But, on the other hand, the confrontation with Maul happens smack dab in the middle of the desert, so Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan actually overpower him together and neither of them dies.

After the Jedi leave, Anakin uses his future knowledge and expertise in cybernetic implants to remove his and his mother's slave chips. A tragic accident befalls Watto, and a fire in the junk shop destroys most of his records, so no one who inherits the remainder has any knowledge of slaves (or anything else) missing from the inventory.

Shmi knows that something has changed. But Ani's always been a miracle, strange and unknowable in many ways, and yet still her son regardless. She goes along with it, even though she's apprehensive about affording water, shelter, and food as they are.

She needn't have worried.

At every turn, Anakin miraculously seems to uncover things they need, or opportunities for them to explore. Shmi finds decent work in various establishments -- cleaning garages and hangers, and cantinas after closing, mostly. There always seems to be someone willing to hire her on for a while, even if they already seem to have staff. Ani works his magic with scrap parts and whatever better pieces they can afford, when they have enough to spare (which is surprisingly often), and sells contraptions to the Jawas, junk dealers, or other interested parties. If he makes and sells some weapons to some enterprising bounty hunters or mercenaries, Shmi doesn't discern it, and Anakin doesn't volunteer the information.

But mostly, he works in prosthetics.

There's a pretty big demand for such in the Outer Rim, especially Tatooine, where the idea of anyone hopping into a Bacta tank is even less realistic than the idea of public swimming pools. People are losing limbs all the time, and good prosthetics are hard to come by.

Anakin makes good prosthetics. Even with limited parts and visible frustration, by the time he's thirteen, most of the planet knows where you go if you need an "extra hand", so to speak.

It's not long before the Hutts take an interest in monopolizing the resource, and seeing what else this talented young mechanic can build. Even if most Hutts rarely need prosthetics themselves, they like to be in charge of a hot commodity, after all. And it's hardly unheard of for them to lose an arm or two either.

Shmi worries. Anakin doesn't. Somehow, all of the local crime lords start to be met with unfortunate accidents. Their relatives and allies investigate, of course, and no one really believes in coincidences in the Outer Rim. But nothing turns up either. Falling cargo, suicides, misfiring weapons, heart attacks, choking on food, slipping and falling into sarlacc pits, it's all stuff that does happen. It just usually doesn't happen so often, to such a specific group of people, within such a short amount of time.

When Anakin is fifteen, Sidious sends people to fetch him. They approach him with sweet offers and seemingly-generous gifts, at first, as if it's not the most suspicious way they could go about it. His mother too, but it's such a stupid effort that Shmi finds them suspect even without prompting, and senses something off about them. Anakin's mother might not be nearly as Force sensitive as he is, but she is, and she doesn't like Palpatine's people even if she doesn't know who they are.

The next ones just try and abduct him. It's at least less insulting in its directness. They find themselves falling afoul of the many dangers of Tatooine instead. Such a risky place, people disappear out here all the time. Mind the womp rats and the krayt dragons.

Finally, Sidious goes himself.

His ship suffers a terrible malfunction upon its descent towards a planetside dock. A true tragedy. The Chancellor will be missed.

History remembers Anakin Skywalker as a footnote in the development of several innovative prosthetic enhancements, and a semi-obscure abolitionist who also advocated for the rights of clones.

[sillyzel]

✨The Amazing Digital Circus Hunters AU

The players in the circus are playing Caine’s game, “HUNTINGG” or maybe, uh, they’re like bounty hunters with powers..

Each player has unique abilities and can be used when they’re “hunting” for stuff in Caine’s game! Just-, Just that, simply.

(More under the cut)

Each of the players have unique abilities. Or, yeah, weapons. They use the weapons to help hunt stuff, of course. OR to KILL stuff. Players are kill-able but will respawn. Cuz, why not? If you’re an NPC, maybe you might just, die, yeah, die.

What are they hunting for?? Duh, it’s like, for ranks or smth. Higher u rank, more powerful u become, but when u get killed by anyone, well u gotta start over again. Who knows what u can achieve if u keep that first place…

OK!1!1!1 MORE ABOUT THE PLAEYRSZSZ

Pomni - Police… with a sword.

Pomni is… yeah, that. Why? Bubble just thinks it’s cool. Yeah, she does have a gun too. Pomni’s sword can get longer and shorter, but it is limited. Sword can electrocute some bozos, but needs charging after 5 uses of electro-power thing blah blah. Gun? Normal police gun.

Ragatha - Bare hand fighter, most of the time.

She is, a bare hand fighter. KICK AND PUNCH, yeahhhhh, but uses the spear sometimes. She keeps about 3 spears in her back. Rather than using the pointy part, She usually uses the wooden part more. Pointy stuff has poison. It stings and it hurts making the area that got cut/stabbed with that feel numb. Possible cramps, ig…

Gangle - Chainy chainy stuff with a slim cutter on it’s end.

Gangle’s… weapon, can cut OFF your limbs… BUT that’s rare! Only if she did it right. Usually only cuts deep… nvm, it depends if she is using it the riiiight way! The chain can go longer, with limit, of course! Making the chain go shorter takes more time.

Zooble - FIRE STAFF MUAHAHAHHA 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Zooble. I can say Zooble is like, an alchemist? Only if it’s fire-related. Basically, ya know, Staff with fire magic. BUTTT staff might lost its control sometimes. Zooble can use the staff, whenever. There’s always a “water-looking” bottle attached to the stuff. That thing is minimizing the chances of the staff to lose control. Also minimizes the fire a bit. Zooble can take it off, for about 20 minutes while using it. More than that, it burns the whole tent.

Jax - PEW PEW guns

Some sick guns. Yeaaahhh let’s goooo!1!1! 2 small guns and 1 big gun. 3 in total. The two smaller guns work differently. One works very fast and shoots 3 bullets at one click. One just shoots one per click, doesn’t deal much damage, but will make the enemy feel not-so-good and pass out, sometimes. Big gun? Fast, big bullet. Uses are limited. Only 3 times a day.

Kinger - DARK MAGIC GUY?!?!?

Exorcist? Dark magic? Whatever. Magic book. Yeah, he uses magic book to make and control magic. Just like Zooble, Kinger’s weapon can lose control too. Rarely. Magic book has no limits. The magic just- won’t work well if it’s closed. Quite hard to keep it open, y know.

BONUS - Links Abt this thing yes.

I have a feeling it’s not gonna be so “noticed” by other people, but I enjoyed making it while boredom.

[inoreuct]

thinking about zoro being the crew's main protector.

it’s quite literally his role amongst the straw hats; luffy's captain, usopp's their sniper, sanji cooks, nami navigates, chopper's their doctor, franky's their shipwright, jinbei's their helmsman and brook's their musician but zoro? zoro's their swordsman. zoro’s their guardian. his job is to be the first line of defense and protect everybody else so they can focus on doing their own thing and sure, none of them really need protecting— but they don't have to worry about defending themselves, either, because whoever they can't or don't want to handle zoro will finish up (if he hasn't gotten to them first).

like imagine a bunch of idiots cornering one of the crew (bad idea.) and picking nami because she's the woman without a devil fruit, as opposed to robin (BAD idea.). they've got her surrounded in the dead end of an alleyway and have somehow neutralised her clima-tact and she’s not worried, she’s not.

but against twelve men and with her weapon essentially now just a regular staff, she might be panicking. just a little. she’s gotten a couple of them good enough that they’re down for the count before a chain wrapped around her ankle trips her. it pulls at enough memories, faded but never forgotten, to bring up a sickening wave of fear and anger— and nami decides that she’s had enough of the bullshit.

she takes a deep breath and screams. “ZORO!”

the silence afterwards is deafening. the wind shifts, gently lifting the pieces of hair stuck to her sweaty face, and the men laugh uneasily. one of them yanks hard on the chain and she spits at him, heels scrabbling against the dusty ground even as he starts reeling her in like a fish on a hook. “he can’t hear you, little missy,” he snickers, grin widening the longer nobody shows up.

it’s still on his face when his head slides right off his neck.

blood sprays right before his body crumples like a doll. it takes a second for the others to realise and then the screaming starts— none of them get any farther than three steps before zoro’s cutting them down, swift swings of his sword and almost surgically precise slices rendering them incapacitated if not plain dead.

“sorry i’m late, witch.” the swordsman’s breathing hard, gore dripping off his blades even as he arcs one down and snaps the chain off nami’s leg with a growl. “did they hurt you?”

“no. no, i’m fine,” nami breathes, her smile quivering just a little— not because she’s shaken, no. because she’s pissed.

zoro’s voice is gruff as always, but his hands are careful if not outright gentle as he kneels to inspect her ankle before pulling her to her feet. “stay close,” he mutters, making sure that she’s nodded before cutting them a path through the fray. they bump into chopper next, and the doctor’s out cold over zoro’s shoulder in his regular form by the time sanji joins them to guard their flank. nami’s taken to just using her clima-tact as a bat for now, and it’s admittedly efficient.

she knew zoro would come. he always does. for all that they bicker and snip at each other, zoro has always protected his crew— even when said crew was just three people on what could barely be called a boat. he’d fought for her at arlong park and he fights for her now, his sword slicing over her head at an enemy she can’t see as she ducks low to jam her staff into another’s stomach.

they’ve moved closer to their ship when they find jinbei, then robin, then usopp, then brook and franky, and then zoro’s yelling luff, time to go! and their captain’s launching them all back onto the Sunny with a gleeful cackle that makes nami wheeze a laugh as they land in a mildly painful pile of limbs. somebody’s elbow digs into her ribs and she’s pretty sure that’s sanji’s bony kneecap pressed into her lower back. the swordsman swears as he sets about trying to pry them all apart and luffy seems to be actively fighting him, based on how his cursing’s getting more and more colourful.

behind them, their enemies burn, sliced to pieces. they debrief in the galley and zoro refuses to come away from the door until nami drags him by the ear and sanji threatens to personally shove dessert down his throat. they both know it’s because zoro’s still guarding them from a threat that doesn’t exist anymore.

they know he pretends not to care as much as he does. they know he keeps his words blunt and his swords sharp, but zoro lets luffy hang off him, unfazed, and makes a marginal effort to stick to nami’s budget even when he’s getting booze, and he eats his dessert. every last bit. he lets usopp fire moving targets to slice through so they can both practice. he keeps collateral damage when sparring with sanji to a minimum. he stitches whoever needs it up himself when chopper’s a little too tired.

and when his crew calls, he answers.

(now with a part from nami’s pov!)

[gulnarsultan]

Hey I absolutely love your work and I have this idea I can’t get out of my head

Can I request a fic with Erik lensher/magneto x reader where the reader has the same powers as pitch black (from rise of the guardians) and was tortured and used as a weapon but broke out and the shadows led her to the school and they take her in but because of how powerful she is and how uncontrollable her power is she’s afraid to get close to anyone there but Erik shows her to embrace the darkness of her power

Thank you

Hello dear. I am so glad to hear that you like my work. I hope you do. (I have a soft spot for Erik, to be honest. 🤭🤗)

Life was really cruel to you. You were born a mutant. Your powers emerged when you turned 16. Your family abandoned you in a facility. They abandoned you as if you were nothing but a monster. It was a great pain and trauma for your family to abandon you and turn their backs on you. For the first months, you only cried at night.

Different experiments were started on you. The staff was very bad to you. You were humiliated and constantly insulted. Your mental health and psychology had collapsed. The worst part was that you had become a deadly weapon in their hands. You suffered for years in the hands of these two-faced people.

You had gotten lucky during a mission and managed to escape. You started Xavier's school for gifted youngsters institute to learn how to control your abilities. But the memory of the past wouldn't leave you alone. You were trying to stay away from everyone. You were terrified of hurting someone unintentionally.

You soon caught Erik's attention. You were reminding him of your own past. He took everything slow so as not to scare you. He slowly approached you and began to break the walls you had built.

Erik soon won your heart. But your fears were still deep in your heart. What if you unintentionally hurt Erik?

"Erik. Please stay away from me. What if I hurt you?"

"You have gotten very good at controlling your powers and you continue to get better."

"Erik. What if I get out of control."

"That won't happen. Even if it does, I will never stop being by your side."

You hugged each other tightly. Erik kissed your forehead sweetly.

[flamebearrel]

“But Kris, if I wanted to watch Anim vs. with all the different series how should I even go about it??”

It largely depends on the topics and cast you’re interested in seeing. The show is split into three subseries as well as the occasional standalone episode/miniseries: Animator vs. Animation (the original created in 2006-7 by Alan Becker alone), Animation vs. Minecraft (the longest and most popular, shorts stemming off a standalone from 2015), and Animation vs. Education (the newest from 2023, visualizing high-level STEM concepts)

Personally, I think core AvA is required reading for anyone who has appreciation for past eras of the internet, UI, or principles and genres of animation. AvM and AvE are equal in quality but honestly you won’t appreciate them as much if you aren’t familiar with the topics they cover. Alan and his team do try to visually introduce things step by step, though, so you can at least get a general idea of what you’re looking at

Besides that, core AvA specifically follows the Hollow-Heads, hand-drawn stick figures created by the Animator, “noogai”/Alan. In particular you have The Chosen One (shortened to Chosen, Cho or TCO) and The Second Coming (aka Second, Sec, TSC or Orange). TSC is the de facto main character and the only one appearing in all three series, while TCO and the Animator are exclusive to the original.

The SticksFight squad - the four sticks originating from sticksfight.com and named after their colors - have developed distinct personalities as the main cast of AvM, but only take a collective side role in main AvA (Yellow has a slightly larger role than the others). Here’s a summary of their individual personalities so you know what to look for in their smaller appearances

Red - Impulsive and energetic, always the first to jump into action and with a soft heart for creatures and beasties. He’s a little simple when it comes to technical things, but excels with reading the people around him, then building off of their quirks. Since the rest of the group babies him a bit, he puts in extra physical work to prove he can hold his own. Red also tends to play around with new or out-of-the-box solutions - knowledge that extends to his pranks. Most ready to fight with his fists or use heavy-hitters like maces and clubs. (Good intro/focus eps: The Rediscovery, Texture Pack, Monster School, The Prank)

Blue - A mellow fellow! Blue is one with nature and focuses on farming, cooking, and potionology. Due to her pacifistic tendencies, Blue prefers to reason things out or find other solutions rather than fighting, but will throw herself into the face of danger for others. Otherwise she takes up ranged weapons like guns and bows. She’s detail- and aesthetic-oriented as well as graceful, but doesn’t often step outside what she knows. A bit of an addiction to nether wart, which is somewhere between an unusual snack and a drug. (Good intro/focus eps: Potions, The Piglin War, The Chef, Blue’s New Superpower)

Yellow - She loves more than anything to get down to the root of things, and that makes her the group’s engineer! …And a bit of a troublemaker, paying more attention to the thrill of a discovery than the consequences. Yellow tries to find fairness and justice for friend and foe alike. While they have a reliable, supportive demeanor, they’re also very peppy, excitable and tough with how they stand strong in dire situations. Often her fighting style takes place behind the scenes, using things like explosives or a command-casting staff. (Good intro/focus eps: The Roller Coaster, Command Blocks, Lucky Blocks, AvArcade Games)

Green - Originally the weakest on the team, but has since come into his own after a lot of reflex training (read: getting tossed around). Green has great adaptability to learning new techniques and getting creative, particularly with styles of music and architecture. He loves the spotlight and usually competes with the others or takes the chance to show off; however, he also cares deeply about welcoming in those he meets. Dashes and zips around all the time during battle, usually via fishing rod-grappling hook. (Good intro/focus eps: AvYouTube, Note Blocks, PvP, The Dolphin Kingdom)

If you’re just gonna watch the REQUIRED ones this is what I recommend:

AvA s1 (1-4, previously I-IV)

AvMinecraft (original)

AvYouTube

AvA s2 (5-8, previously “shorts” combining into V)

AvMath

AvA s3 (9-ongoing)

That way you get the introduction of both subseries, with how each establishes the cast/direction, as well as one standalone. I put vs. YT here since it best fits the theme imo but you could go with vs. Pokémon or vs. Arcade Games if you prefer

If you’re willing to take on AvM/the rest of the series this is pretty much the order of the timeline:

AvA s1

AvM (original)

AvYouTube

AvM shorts s1 (1-14)

AvLeague of Legends (required for an AvM character’s development)

AvM shorts s2 (15-19)

AvA s2

Other standalones (Blue’s New Superpower + vs. ___)

AvM shorts s3 (20-30)

AvE (ongoing)

AvA s3 (ongoing)

AvM shorts s4 (ongoing)

Influencer Arc (1-3 + some interactive videos on the Greenzilla4 channel)

Or just follow my playlist!!!

[wardenparker]

Mysterious Masquerade, part 2

Oberyn Martell x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 7.4k Warnings: Food/alcohol, cursing, flirting and sexy themes. Sugar daddy/baby perceived power imbalances. But honestly this whole extended polycule is pretty emotionally healthy. Spoiler warning in the tags! Summary: Your relationship with Oberyn will change your life forever, and in the very best ways. Notes: Just a cutie little ending for a cutie little story. Next week we step up the spice level with Pero! (As always, sorry for any errors I missed in proofreading. I'm under the weather today so it might be more than average. Enjoy!)

There are almost more bags than you and Ellaria can carry together when you arrive back to the mansion several hours later. Between things for the house and things for the two of you, you stopped into nearly every store and usually made at least one small purchase if not something more.

Ellaria hands her bags over to a young man in a uniform at the door and without a word he is gone again— presumably to sweep her things away to wherever they belong. When a different young man in the same uniform approaches you, you have no idea what to say at all.

“Charlie, be a dear and put her belongings in the purple suite.” Ellaria decides. “We will move them if the accommodations aren’t to her liking.”

The second young man is gone in a flash, and you offer Ellaria a smile. "I don't know that I'll get the hang of how this house operates too quickly. I'm sorry in advance."

“Do not even worry about that.” She laughs. “You just ask anyone and they can tell you how Oberyn likes things.”

"He seems very flexible about some things and very set in his way about others," you observe. "I just don't want to disappoint him."

“You won’t.” She promises. “He might be a bit odd but he is rather accommodating most of the time.”

"Odd can be wonderful." That is something you have always believed, but even as you smile you look around the first floor of the mansion. "I suppose...I suppose he's probably busy? I thought he would have come to see you when you came home."

She looks around for a moment, as if she is surprised now that you mention it. “He is probably in his office.” She hums. “Or in the training room. Probably the training room.”

"Training room?" Your raised eyebrow is surprise not only that such a room exists but that a seemingly consummate man of luxury would be using it.

Her smirk is nothing short of wicked and she takes your hand. “You have not begun to drool until you see him training.” She cackles.

"I'm intrigued and excited." With a shared grin, you take Ellaria's arm and let her lead the way.

Off the west wing of the house is a gym. One that Oberyn had outfitted for any and all of the training that he desires. The man has extreme discipline and besides being wealthy, he also loves to fight.

The air in the gym is warm and damp when you step inside with Ellaria, as if someone was doing hot yoga inside, but the sounds coming from the ring in the center of the room are simply not what anyone would hear in a yoga studio.

Oberyn is moving around the space with the grace and force of a lion on the hunt. The staff in his hands is a fearsome weapon all on its own, but Ellaria brings you up to the edge of the ring to watch as he leans it against the safety buffers on the edge of the ring and begins to pummel the dummy up on the nearby platform.

He’s shirtless. The man would fight nude if he could get away with it, but many other men found that intimating unless there was a bet to have to winner fuck the loser. Which had happened a few times. “Now you know how he keeps in shape to exhaust you in bed, Dove.” She whispers, her own eyes fixed on his lean and graceful form.

"Both of us," you remind Ellaria, though your mouth is watering at the sight of him. It's primal. Primitive. And you're not embarrassed by it for one single second. "I've never considered working out to be a spectator sport before."

“The best part?” Ellaria grins as she looks over at you. “Sparring, fighting? It makes this man feral.” She snorts. “Our last child was definitely conceived after a match.”

"I have the sudden urge to be ringside very often." Primal. Primitive. And completely sexy. You could just stand here and watch for as long as he'd let you, and if what Ellaria is saying is true, he would let you stay as long as you wanted. Only to haul you off and fuck you right after.

“I thought you might.” She laughs. “It doesn’t hurt that the men he spars with are delectable in their own right.”

"Never considered myself an overly sporty but a gal can change," you laugh, grinning at her while you both watch Oberyn work.

“Now you know how I stay in shape.” She agrees and looks back over at him. “He’s still the most gorgeous man I have ever fucked. And he knows it.”

At another point in your life it might have been odd or even bothered you to be standing beside the other woman that your lover is actively sleeping with. The woman he truly loves. The woman who has been in his life for many, many years and will still be here long after the quality of shiny newness has rubbed off of you. But right now all you can do is bring your eyes back to Oberyn and breathe out a quiet, wistful sigh. "I don't think it would be possible to find a more gorgeous man in the entire world."

“And intelligent,” she shakes her head. “The man holds three master’s degrees. Got bored halfway through his doctorate.”

"Are you serious? Oh come on!" You huff, much more loudly and more exasperatedly than you mean to, and cover your mouth instantly but the damage is done as your voice echoes through the space.

Oberyn stops his work out, turning to face both you and Ellaria with a low brow and heaving chest. “Something wrong, Dove?” He asks, tossing down the staff and sauntering over to the edge of the ring to grab his towel and water bottle.

"No!" This time your voice is an embarrassed squeak, and your hand covers your face as entirely as you can manage it. "No, I—Ellaria was just telling me something and I was surprised. I'm sorry to interrupt you."

“Oh?” He glances over at his lover and guesses that it’s nothing too horrendous because of her slight smile. “Care to share with me?” He asks teasingly, wiping the dripping sweat from his face and chest. “I like surprises.”

He's so fucking sexy it's distracting is all you can think for a few seconds before you shake your head clear and then clear your throat. "She was saying that you got bored halfway through your doctorate. I had no idea you had so many degrees, that's all."

He chuckles, watching you squirm so prettily and he shrugs. “I got bored after a while.” He admits easily. “It took away from my time seducing beautiful women.” He leans on the ropes and leers at you. “Like the two in front of me now.”

"We had a very successful day, lover." Ellaria reports happily, leaning over the ropes to accept the kiss that she has unquestioningly earned.

“Have you?” He muses with a hum and reaches for her to drag her close for a very thorough kiss.

It isn't jealousy that curls in your stomach but interest, wondering if you look at effortlessly and artfully beautiful kissing Oberyn as Ellaria does. If that is how deep he kissed you that first night together or if there is some deeper level reserved only for her. If there is, it makes this a privilege to bear witness to.

When he pulls away, he pecks her lips again and winks as he pulls away. “Good girl.” He praises before he turns to you. “Now it’s your turn.”

He doesn't hesitate, reaching for you and surprising you by putting the same passion into kissing you as though you had been gone for weeks or months and seen him the day before yesterday. You lean into it happily, tilting your head to the side without hesitation to let the kiss deepen as much as he likes.

Oberyn likes that you don’t pull away. You aren’t shy about kissing him in front of his paramour. Groaning into your mouth, he lets the kiss last just as long as the one he gave Ellaria before he pulls away.

“I should get to unpacking,” Ellaria announces breezily, giving you a kiss on the cheek and Oberyn a healthy leer before she saunters back in the direction that you came. “See you at dinner, darlings!”

He chuckles as he looks towards you. “Looks like we are alone.” He murmurs, his voice dropping silkily and full of innuendo.

“Apparently so.” His voice makes you shiver when it gets husky like that and you don’t bother to disguise it. Not knowing everything that Ellaria told you today.

“Did you enjoy yourself today, Dove?” He asks, lifting a brow curiously.

“I did.” Ellaria had been a bit gentler in her nudging after your talk at lunch, but certainly had not let up at all. She had made it a game to keep you amused, and to keep you from feeling guilty. “I had a very interesting conversation with Ellaria at lunch.”

“You did?” He flings the towel over his shoulder and steps through the ropes to hop down the small step to the floor beside you. “Did you enjoy the interesting conversation?”

“Ellaria seems to think you want to keep me.” An amused smirk curls into the corner of your lips and you decide not to disguise your interest in his sweat-covered body. “Any chance you know where she might have gotten that idea?”

“Because my paramour is not stupid.” The playful coy smile is the first indication you aren’t opposed to it. “She knows what I like, what intrigues me.”

“And you are intrigued by me?” You ask, raising one eyebrow at him.

“Obsessively.” He teases, leaving in and nudging his nose against yours.

“Then I think we ought to talk about what kind of arrangement you’d like.” Nudging his nose back, you pull away after a second and look him in the eyes. “Because I want to know what you’re asking me to promise before I say yes to anything.”

“You did have a thorough conversation.” Oberyn wraps his hand around your wait. “Come shower with me and we will negotiate.”

******

There can be no negotiations in the shower. Once he has his arms around you with the hot water streaming down both of your bodies, you would promise him anything. That doesn't stop him from trying to get you to negotiate while he's fucking you so deeply that it punches the breath from your lungs, but considering you can barely moan out any words besides curses and his name? That's fighting dirty, and he eventually agrees to put off the conversation.

Once you're clean, fucked into a puddle, and then clean all over again, Oberyn wraps you up in a plush bathrobe that matches his own and sprawls out with you on the plush sofas in his room.

“So what would you demand of me?” He asks, a cup of wine in one hand while his arm that is under you has slipped beneath your robe and strokes your belly. “Anything you can think of?”

"I was more interested in hearing what you might demand of me," you admit, leaning into his side and sipping your wine along with him. "Ellaria wouldn't be specific about her arrangement with you, so I still don't really know how any of this would work except that I would live here and be your lover."

“If we have a child or children together, you would never keep them from me.” That is his number one rule. “You are honest with me, I will always be honest with you.”

"Is it expected of me to have your child?" Being prepared for the responsibility and possibility is far different than contracting out mothers, and while you don't expect that answer from Oberyn, you do have to ask the question.

“No.” He would never expect that of you, of anyone. “It would only be if you wanted it.”

"I'm glad to hear you say that." It helps you relax more into his side, and you take another sip of wine. "Go on?"

“Every year we are together, you will have one million dollars times the number of years, deposited into an account that is solely held by you.” Oberyn hums. “That is non-negotiable.”

You start so violently at the number that you barely manage to escape spilling on yourself, bolting upright to face him on the sofa. "For what?" That is the part that baffles you. He can't just be paying you for sex. There are enough brothels in the city to satisfy even him. He doesn't need to do that.

“For your own independence.” It sounds counterintuitive, but he had found that he felt better knowing that Ellaria has the means to do whatever she wishes and yet she still stays by his side. Some have called her a whore, a gold digger, but she is far wealthier than any who would talk behind her back.

"So you're going to...house me, feed me, fuck me, be totally okay with me fucking other people if I want to, pay me...and it's...literally just...because you can?" That kind of wealth is baffling, but it also speaks to his enormous heart. That he would offer to take care of his lovers entirely purely because he cares about them.

He’s never looked at in that light. “I guess that’s one way of looking at it.” He snorts. “But…yes.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his wine. “What’s the point of being rich if you can’t do what you want?”

On anyone else the cockiness might seem flippant or disingenuous, but when it comes from Oberyn it is oddly charming. At the moment you can really only shake your head at him in disbelief. "May I be honest? Since that is one of your conditions?"

“Always.” He chuckles softly, his fingers squeezing the flesh on your belly gently. “What are you thinking, Dove?”

"That..." The thought had passed over and over in your head on the way back from your afternoon with Ellaria, and finally settled into your heart as you worked through it in your head. "I would feel more comfortable having some sort of job. Whether that is working for you somehow or even keeping my morning job, or finding something else. I just...I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I didn't have something to keep me busy."

“Whatever you want to do.” He agrees easily. “If you want to go back to school, we can make that happen.”

Now that is a thought. You'd marked your own jealousy hearing Ellaria list off his degrees earlier, and you had also been talking to her about higher education at lunch today. 'I'll think about it," you agree, though you know your heart has already latched on to the possibility of more schooling just the way it latched on to Oberyn himself. The reckless embrace of someone full of love and looking for someone to give it to.

He nods and his fingers continue to caress your skin. “There will be times you need to travel with me.” He adds. “But if your schedule conflicts, it would be understandable.” He doesn’t expect his lovers to be at his beck and call.

"Where do you travel to?" When he looks a touch surprised that you don't already have some kind of idea, you smile sheepishly. "Remember, I didn't recognize you after the party. I don't know all the Martell gossip the way everyone around here seems to."

“All over the world, Dove.” He smiles. “Martell Enterprises has its fingers in many pies.”

A moment of childish amusement has you snorting out a little laugh. "So do you," you tease.

He huffs at your quip and shakes his head. “You didn’t seem to mind when my fingers were in your pie.” He reminds you, sliding his hand down to cup your cunt.

"Oh, I don't mind at all," you clarify with ease. "Not one little bit. I quite like when your fingers are in my pie, actually."

Modified, he hums as he leans in and starts to kiss along your jaw. “What else?”

"I can't think with your lips and hands on me." It's entirely true, but the way your mind hazes over with his attention is so wonderful you don't even care.

“Is that a bad thing?” He muses, smirking slowly as he continues to touch you gently. It’s not about the sex right now, but the intimacy.

“No…” His fingers at your core are deadly in their temptation, and even though he was inside you less than half an hour ago your body is piqued to respond to him. “I guess not, but…” A mere twitch of his forefinger has you swallowing a moan.

“But.” He pauses his fingers, pulling them back slightly.

"It's playing dirty," you remind him when your head clears just a tiny bit. "Negotiating while you're touching me? Very naughty."

He chuckles, winking at you. “Never said I played fair.” He hums.

"Incorrigible." But you're not even remotely upset with him about it. If nothing else, the last hour or two of time spent with him as already proven to you that you're going to accept his term. All you need to do now is talk to Lizzy.

“I am.” He agrees, leaning in and biting your ear playfully. “And you love it.”

"I do." The shiver that runs down your spine is proof enough of that, and you tilt your head to give him full access to nip, lick, and suck anything he likes. "I really do."

******

Putting your key in the lock of your apartment door feels heavier tonight than it ever has before, even as you push the door open and shove inside the little two-bedroom walkup. Oberyn had insisted on driving you home but ended up frowning when he saw where in the city you live. Explaining that it was the place that both of you could afford to each have your own bedroom regardless of how crappy the neighborhood was, only made him frown more deeply. To mollify him, you had agreed to talk to Lizzy tonight about a timeframe for moving so that he could schedule the truck and feel more secure about your safety.

"Liz?" Her car was in the parking space so she must be here, but she isn't in the living room when you step inside. "Lizzyyyyyyy." She's in the kitchen, you can smell last night's Greek leftovers in the microwave. "How was work?"

“Hey!” The shout comes back immediately and she pokes her head out from the little galley style kitchen that is too tiny for any two people to be at the same time. “Shit, like usual. How was work for you? You’re home early.”

“Your girlfriend called Greg and quit for me.” Despite how upset you had been earlier, the fact now makes you laugh in the most disbelieving and ridiculous way. “I brought us home some dessert. I’ve got news.”

“What?” Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. “How? Why?”

“Grab your plate and let’s go sit.” The little living room has space for a couch and a coffee table and not much else, but it will be as good a place to talk as any. “I’ll explain everything.”

“Oh my god.” She pops back into the kitchen and bangs around for a moment before she is rushing back out with a plate and a drink in her hand.

Along with the new purse Ellaria helped you pick out, you’re carrying a large bakery bag and a brand new Stanley cup filled with some of the raspberry lemonade from the same bakery where you bought to share with Lizzy. “Ok,” you grin at her eagerness and tuck yourself up on the couch with her. “First of all, I fully understand why you’re down so bad for Ellaria. She’s great.”

“Don’t tell me you slept together?” She gasps, hating herself for the tiniest twinge of jealousy when she has no claim on the woman. Just because she had completely rocked her world didn’t mean she had any obligation to her.

“No!” That startles you enough to have you sitting up all over again and reaching out to squeeze her arm. “No, no, nothing like that. I mean I definitely did have sex today, just not with her.”

“Oh, uh, I mean—” she shrugs, trying to look casual rather than relieved. “So, what makes you think she’s great?”

“Compassionate, considerate, kick ass...” For each characteristic you hold up a finger. “Honest. And she’s just as interested in you as you are in her, so she clearly has excellent taste.”

“How do you know that?” She lights up like a Christmas tree.

“Eat your dinner,” you remind her with a grin. “I may have forced her hand into telling me. I can’t quite tell. But either way, we are both about to become extremely spoiled women.”

Her brow furrows slightly in confusion. “I’m not following.” She admits, knowing that she’s already been spoiled by Ellaria in bed, but not expecting anything else.

“Okay, well…” Pulling your feet up under you on the sofa, you sip your drink slowly to try to steady yourself. “Ellaria and Oberyn want to…keep us.”

“Keep us…” she draws out the comment slowly. “Like….pets?”

“I mean…” The idea of it makes you snort, and you end up laughing. “I guess it doesn’t sound very good when you put it like that. But more like…sugar babies.”

“Sugar babies?” Her brows shoot open, fork clattering onto her plate. “Wait….that was a fucking option?!”

“It’s an option if we want it,” you confirm, trying hard not to laugh at her utter shock. Since that had been pretty much your reaction as well.

“I thought that was just….a joke.” She huffs. “Or some kind of justification for a creepy old man and a barely legal woman.”

"In this particular case, it's a new place to live, an income, and really fucking good sex." Which is nothing at all to sniff at, but you shrug your shoulders a little and let out another small laugh. "And shopping, which I know you'll love. Ellaria rolled me through every single store in that fancy ass mall in uptown."

“The one with the restaurants on the roof that we couldn’t even bring ourselves to step into?” She is jealous, now for a completely different reason.

"She asked me which place you'd like best to eat," you promise Lizzy, seeing the pout forming on your best friend's lips. "So expect a call asking you to have dinner with her tomorrow night."

“Oh?” her brows wing up dramatically and there’s a slightly giggly look on her face. “Really?”

“Really.” Seeing her this excited about it only solidifies in your mind how right of a decision this is. How much you both will benefit and be so much happier with this arrangement. And how unhappy you’ve both been recently by comparison. “I’m supposed to lay out the whole deal for you tonight, and you can negotiate with Ellaria or straight out accept or refuse at dinner.”

“Hit me with it.” She’s not dumb, she knows you’ve already had this talk with Oberyn. “Have you accepted already?”

“I said I wouldn’t formally accept without talking to you first,” you admit. “Since it would mean moving out.”

“Housing.” She nods, even though she’s damn sure that Ellaria would never offer her that. She’ll need to find another roommate.

“Don’t frown like that, I wouldn’t abandon you.” Especially not everything she did to keep you going when you would have just sunken into a pit of depression after your break up a year ago. “If we take their terms, both of us, we get a brand new renovated apartment in the west wing of the Martell mansion.”

“Wait…” she shakes her head in awe. “They want us to live there??” She whispers in awe. “Who the fuck are these people?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question all afternoon,” you admit, giggling as you pull out the box of pastry you purchased, all neatly tied up with red and white twine. “But Ellaria says it’s because Oberyn is greedy. He wants her — and I guess, me — nearby all the time. And if she’s staying at your place then she won’t be near him. So it keeps everyone happier if we’re all in the house together.”

“So they truly just do whatever they want.” She shakes her head in amazement. “What happens when they change their minds? Or get bored with us?”

“Our income is paid on the first of every year.” You have to brace yourself for this part. For how Lizzy will react to the number. “It’s November second today, so we would get first year income when we agree and second year on new years. It’s…it’s a million dollars a year, times however many years we’ve been with them. So if anyone changes their mind, they’re not left out in the cold. We can just go, with plenty of money to survive on and any gifts we’ve been given.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” She hisses, leaning forward and practically dumping her plate onto the table, forgotten and unwanted right now.

“I know,” you groan, holding up your hands in a show of innocence. “I know. It’s insane! But that’s their number and they’re not immovable on it. It’s a non-negotiable point.”

“They want to give us one million dollars every year we are together? Having great sex and sleeping in their mansion?” She asks.

"Two million for the second year. Three for the third. And so on." What else can you really do but nod? It's an insane amount of money and you both know it.

“That is….insane.” She throws herself back into the worn couch she had bought second hand and had seen better days.

“Yes it is.” You can agree to that wholeheartedly. “We live with them, we basically earn a living being companions, and if we want to take any other lovers or whatever, we just…do. Work or don’t work. School or no school. We can literally do whatever we want.” Shaking your head in understandable disbelief, you open the pastry box and offer her first pick of the pieces inside. “It’s literally the dream.”

“Dear God.” She snorts. “Just when I thought she couldn’t be any more perfect.” Her eyes widen, “do you think Ellaria has that arrangement with Oberyn? They’ve been together for years.”

“I know she does,” you nod, taking a fruit tart from the box when Lizzy picks out a piece of chocolate dipped shortbread. “She’s the one who explained it to me originally. The only thing that’s different about her and my arrangement from yours is that you won’t have any stipulations about possible kids.”

“Yeah…” she snorts. “I don’t think that’s possible for us, but hun-“ she tilts her head. “Are you thinking about that?”

“Not anytime soon.” The first bite of your tart is full of sweet and tangy glazed persimmon and you moan happily over it before going on. “But you know how badly I want kids. It’s just nice to know that Oberyn gives a shit about his daughters just in case, ya know?”

“I can understand that. All of the Sand Snakes, as he calls them, are very well loved.” She lifts a brow at you.

“Look I’m not saying I’m going to go off my birth control just because he has a breeding kink.” That makes both of you laugh, and you savor another bite of your tart. “I’m just saying if it happens, I won’t be upset.”

“I think it’s obvious the man has a breeding kink.” She hums. “Ellaria has given birth to four of them. And she doesn’t look like it at all.”

“That would be thanks to the endless libido and the in-home gym.” Ellaria had also showed you her small yoga studio and said you and Lizzy should use it whenever you liked. Their generosity extends to absolutely everything, it seems. “What do you think? I mean I know you want Ellaria, that part is easy. But…what about the rest?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice is dripping with sarcasm and she gestures around the small apartment. “Leave all this behind?”

You snort, joining her in laughter, and sip from your drink again. “They’ll want us to give our input on the remodeling if those rooms are going to be ours. I’m going to give my two weeks at the cafe and go by there after work tomorrow.”

“Jesus, we even get to remodel our little slut nests.” She cackles. “We will be kept women!”

“That…is the idea,” you admit with another laugh. “Except no shame and full freedom.”

“I don’t want you to feel like my relationship with Ellaria should impact yours with Oberyn.” She knows you, so she immediately brings that up. “If we don’t last, that doesn’t mean you have to feel guilty or end things with him.”

"Likewise. Although I know you're less likely to let that impact your decision than I am." At least you know each other well enough to predict that sort of thing, and well enough to be honest with each other about it. "Just because it seems perfect in the beginning doesn't mean anything in the long run. We both know how relationships go."

“There will be ups and downs.” She agrees.

"This might be our greatest adventure," you tell her, grinning like an idiot. "Even more than when we keyed Professor McMahler's car for being a dick to you during sophomore year."

“He definitely deserved that.” She points at you and laughs. “But this is sooooo much better. And to think that dick said I would never amount to anything.” She huffs dramatically, “He was obviously wrong.”

"I'm...thinking about going back to school." The uncertainty is written on your face, but ever since it was suggested you can't get the idea out of your head. Getting your master's was once a life goal that you were distinctly in the running to achieve. When your boyfriend became your fiancé and suggested working for his family while you saved money for more school, you had thought it was the most practical thing in the world. You hadn't even sniffed the deception for a single second.

“That’s great!” She’s always hated that you didn’t further your education and if you have the opportunity to do it, you should go for it. “Will Oberyn be alright with the time spent studying?”

"I think so." A small smile tucks itself in the corner of your mouth. "He's offered to pay for school in addition to my income."

“Jesus, you don’t even have to pay for it!” She squeals. “Do it! You have to do it!”

"I still have to get in," you remind her, but the two of you end up doubled over in giggles all over again. "But thank you for your support, honey."

“With your transcripts?” She waves away your concern. “It’s a no brainer.”

"I love you and appreciate your blind faith in me." The last bite of your tart goes down with a happy hum you lean back on the couch to sigh contentedly. "It means you could quit your job if you want to. Put energy into finding work you actually like." You raise one eyebrow at her. "Or think about art school."

“But how can I possibly live the struggling artist life?” She huffs dramatically.

"With food in your stomach, and a roof over your head that doesn't leak, and with a warm bed," you huff right back at her. "Seriously, Liz. You should at least think about it. You're a beautiful photographer. You could even use some of that million to start up your business finally."

“That is the dream.” The possibilities are endless and she bites her lip. “You think I should?” Despite you feeling like she is always supporting you, you have definitely been a cheerleader for her hopes and dreams. Far more than she could ever articulate and it’s almost a relief that the two of you could experience this life change together.

“If you need a secretary or assistant or whatever, I can work for you,” you offer readily. Do some wedding gigs or whatever and boost your brand while I take my masters classes?” Every single moment of this happiness is thanks to Oberyn and Ellaria and you’re so acutely aware of it that you feel like you want to run back to the mansions and fling your arms around both of them. Ask them if they truly understand the way they’re changed your lives. “Anything is possible now.”

“All because we crashed their masquerade.” She grins. “Didn’t I tell you everything would be fine?”

“You said it would be fine,” you tease, pulling your phone out of your pocket when it buzzes insistently. Oberyn has gotten home and has decided to send you some rather salacious photos from the pool. “But this? This is far better than fine.”

Without any hesitation or remorse, she looks over at your phone and whistles. “Goddamn.” She hums. “If only I liked dick.” She teases. “You got yourself a good one, babe.” She grins. “Why don’t we go tell them the good news in person.” The phone dings again and it’s a picture of him and Ellaria. “Right now.”

“Because I was going to do the responsible thing and go to work in the morning to hand in my notice in person.” Despite the coffeeshop job being far less than ideal and your boss being horrible, you were going to be responsible about leaving. It seemed decent, after what happened with the pizza place.

“Fuck that.” She snorts. “We have had our lives completely changed by not doing the responsible thing.” Her grin is wicked. “Wouldn’t you rather fuck him by his gorgeous pool?”

“Of course I would.” There is no hesitation necessary for that decision.

“Then put on a swimsuit and let’s go.” She snorts.

******

Adjusting the set of his bow tie, Oberyn watches the mirror as you touch up your makeup. Enjoying the little trappings of vanity that you claim are not important but you continue to do so. He would never claim that it makes you more beautiful, but it enhances your eyes and draws them to the purple lace masque that you will be wearing tonight.

“I can feel you watching me.” There is a sing song in your voice, and nothing but affectionate teasing in your tone, because you know that Oberyn likes to study the ones he loves and learn them. After a year together, you have watched and learned him, too. Like the fact that his mask tonight is purple trimmed with gold — the two colors that you and Ellaria are wearing — despite only wearing a classic black costume himself. The cut of the regency finery looks remarkable on him and you smooth one hand over your empire waist dress as you check your reflection one more time in the mirror.

Tonight needs to be — will be — perfect.

“Why would I not be?” He chuckles, turning and boldly staring at you. “I had anticipated all of us getting ready together, but the other two were still in bed.” He had snorted when he had walked into the scene and wished them fun.

“When are they not?” Ellaria and Lizzy’s passion is honest and makes your best friend the happiest she’s ever been, so you’re certainly not going to begrudge them a moment of it. “Besides, won’t you love the moment you get to look up at Ellaria coming down the grand staircase in her costume for the first time?”

“I almost wish that I could do the same with you, but this is your masquerade by my side.” He teases, “officially.”

"Still, I won't monopolize your night," you promise, finally standing up from the vanity and leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Who knows. Someone may catch your eye. I have it on good authority that you quite enjoying picking out a new lover at these things."

He chuckles and his hand wraps around your body to pull you close. “I do.” He growls playfully, “but there is this one.” He hums, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “I find her intoxicating. I might have to bring her to my bed tonight.”

"Is that so?" The happy sigh in your voice is worth everything, and your eyes are soft and dreamy looking up at him. "I don't think you'll have any trouble convincing her at all. I have it on very good authority."

“Put in a good word for me?” He smirks and his hand slides down to your ass. “I missed you last night.” He admits. He had been traveling with Ellaria and only made it back before the party, which is why she is currently wrapped up with your best friend.

"I missed you, too." His busy travel schedule and frequent meetings have meant that he has been away for a good portion of the last several weeks. Sometimes you go with him and sometimes Ellaria does, but it has been a little to your advantage to have him away recently. It's allowed you to prepare a little surprise for him.

“Ellaria wants to take Lizzy away for the weekend.” Oberyn tells you. “A little anniversary trip to celebrate.” He caresses your back. “What do you think about a little trip of our own? I was thinking that little island I own in Fiji. You, me, and a private beach?”

"How very romantic." Still, you tilt your head slightly and smirk at him. "And convenient. No need for clothes on a private island."

“That’s right.” He snaps his fingers as if the thought just occurred to him. “That was the farthest thing from my mind.”

"I'm sure you had not thought of it at all," you tease him right back. "In fact I am notoriously fully clothed around you, lover."

“Of course you are.” He snorts. “Practically a nun.”

"Oh yes." This time you can't hold back the snort, dissolving into giggles. "I pray to god every night."

“I do hear you calling out his name quite often.” He smirks as he watches you.

"Very often." Still smirking, you nudge him playfully. "We should go down. Make sure everything is ready before the guest start arriving."

“So organized.” He teases with a wink as he steps back and turns to over you his arm.

"One of us has to be." Looping your hand through his elbow, you lean into his side as the two of you head down the now-familiar hallway toward the grand staircase. "And you have been so very business oriented lately. So let me be the organized one tonight."

“You have enjoyed planning tonight.” When it comes to the grand details, there are planners, but Oberyn had given control of the night to you, wanting to see what you would change about his masquerade.

It hadn't been much, but you had put a little spin on it this year, theming things to feel like a spooky and fantastical old-fashioned ball. From the flickering candlelight in the ballroom to the evocative music that you picked out, what you want more than anything is for Oberyn to be proud of the way you put his beloved masquerade together.

“Should we have a glass of champagne to celebrate before we go down?” He asks, smiling softly at you.

"I had a special drink made for tonight." At the stairs you squeeze his arm a little tighter and pick up your skirt to make sure you don't trip, but he guides you downstairs so easily that it feels like walking on water.

There are members of the waitstaff milling around and people tweaking the decorations to make sure everything is perfect, but when you and Oberyn appear in the ballroom a bartender appears at your sides almost instantly. Thanking her, you take both glasses from the tray and hand one to Oberyn. "Happy anniversary, my love."

"To the night that has changed our lives for the better." He hums, tapping his glass against yours and taking a sip of the cocktail. His brow furrows and he takes another sip. "Dove, they may have misunderstood your instructions for your drink." He sniffs and examines it. "It's apple cider and cranberry, I believe." He tilts his head. "But it is missing the alcohol." The familiar burn is missing, although it could just be very well hidden.

“No,” you shake your head, unable to keep a misty, dreamy little smile from your lips. “It’s just right.”

His expression is filled with curiosity. "A dry masquerade?" He muses. "That will be a surprise for the guests."

“I would never do that to your guests.” Especially not when Oberyn’s parties are rightfully legendary. The Bacchanalia would go down in history books if anyone but guests knew. “But…this version will have to be enough for me.” The smile on your lips grows, along with the warmth of excitement and pride in your chest. “For about the next seven months or so.”

Eyes widening in delight, his gaze immediately drops down to your stomach. Your hand has drifted over it, protective and proud. "Dove." He sets aside the glass and pulls you into his arms to kiss you until both of you are dizzy.

You knew he would be happy, but the sensation of being all but swept off your feet has you clinging to him — and to your glass — as he pulls you into his embrace. The sweet, deep, joyous kiss is as passionate as any he's given you before but this one is marked with so much happiness that you can feel him smiling against your lips.

"You must be about eight weeks along?" He asks breathlessly as he pulls away. His own hand sliding down to cover your stomach possessively. "Have you seen a doctor?"

"Earlier this week." Still a bit breathless from the kiss, you nod and absorb the warmth of him as well as the absolute warmth of the sweet gesture. His hand over your stomach for the very first time. "We're both happy and healthy and the baby is right in line for being eight weeks along."

"We must have conceived in Morocco." He smiles again, pressing his lips to yours. "That trip that you were so stressed about your paper during and I helped you relax." He had wanted to take you, knowing you had never ben before and it had taken some convincing to get you to agree. Now, it will be one of his favorite places because you had gotten pregnant there.

"I'm glad that I only have a year of my master's left." The fact of the timing has been haunting you, being only halfway through your work, but when you had actually sorted through it you had realized it was a blessing. "I can take summer semester off, like education maternity leave." You smile at him, beaming, and kiss him again. "I'm due at the end of May."

"You know that you can always go back." He promises. "May." He smiles softly. "We will have to make sure that you are spoiled and comfortable."

"Because you never spoil me," you tease with a heavy roll of your eyes.

"Not like you've ever seen before." He promises with another soft kiss to your lips. "But you will find out what it will be like."

"Only Lizzy knows, and now you." Your best friend had been the one to nudge you to the pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test and help you make a doctor's appointment, but being sworn to secrecy meant that she had not breathed a word to anyone in the process. "I thought you would want to tell Ellaria together."

"Together." He agrees, smiling at you. "Tonight at the ball will be the perfect setting for it."

"I love you." As many times as you have ever said it before, you mean it more each and every time. Life with Oberyn has been more of a blessing than you could ever have hoped for, and now the baby you've always wanted is on their way.

------

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