#i may still go back and do more for it if the inspiration strikes me because i didnt get to do as much as i wanted

[mollusken]

I'm very late in posting this, but this year I ran the Salt Goblins: A Choose Your Own Mischief Adventure zine in this year's D20 Zine Jam. The cover as pictured above was done by the ever steadfast @julnites (along with spot illustrations inside), and @metztreme & @juiceboxes42 contributed amazing goblin pieces you gotta see they are just so good.

‼�� Please check out the charity bundle this month‼️All proceeds raised before the end of August are being donated to humanitarian aid for Palestine, so do it now if you can! There's over 60 zines chock full of amazing Dimension 20 fan creations!!!!

[bvidzsoo]

Haunted me, haunting you

⁀➷ District 12 ⭒ District 12 was the smallest and poorest of the thirteen districts of Panem; their main industry is coal mining; victors: Lucy Gray Baird, Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: victor!Song Mingi x female reader

⁀➷ Warning: cursing, ptsd, panic attacks, violence, blood, mentions of death, hunting, injuries ⁀➷ Word count: 19.7k ⁀➷ Rating: mature, nc-17 ⁀➷ Genre: Hunger Games!au; acquittances since childhood to lovers!au, set before Katniss and Peeta became victors ⁀➷ Summary: After the 72nd Hunger Games, Song Mingi wasn't the same. The spark in his eyes was gone, his once bright smile disappeared and his face became ashen, cheeks hollow, he was merely a shell of the man he once used to be. It hurt seeing him lose himself to the trauma he was forced to endure in the Arena, still haunted by memories...memories of killing someone you both cared about, someone who meant the world to you. Will you be able to help Mingi before it's too late? But most importantly, will Mingi be able to let you in when you bear the very same face he was forced to murder in the Arena in order to become a victor?

A/N: Y'all! My lovelies, it's here!! My thesis was about The Hunger Games and I actually came up with the plot back in like...May?? Uh, anyways, no more gatekeeping this story too lmao, let's all thank Choi San for his appearance this weekend at fashion week, because his outfits inspired me to finally write this oneshot and also come up with a story for him, so, stay tuned! ^^ This piece is actually so very dear to me, I absolutely loved writing it and I just really want to hug Mingi in this, so I really hope you'll love it and enjoy it as much as I did while writing. If I forgot to mention any warnings, let me know so that I can fix it, and sorry for any mistakes, they do slip through sometimes when I proofread. Let me know what you thought of this oneshot, your feedback is always greatly appreciated! Enjoy now! ^^ divider

            His hair was outgrown again, black strands fell into his small and sharp eyes, obscuring them from the world. He had a certain crazed haze in them, irises shaking as the warm brown was overtaken by darkness, a never-ending blackness. The meadow was silent apart from the breeze rustling the leaves, twigs snapping underneath the weight of our feet if we didn’t watch where we stepped. It was quiet apart from the surprised sound I had made and his pants, hurried and frantic as if he was still trying to catch his breath, as if he was frightened by my mere presence. And perhaps he was as our weapons pointed at each other. My hideout had been behind a large bush while his had been behind a tree, wide enough to hide his tall and lanky form. You wouldn’t be able to tell he had lost weight due to the excessive clothes he always wore, but if you knew where to look, you’d spot his sunken collarbones and sharp cheekbones, hands decorated with veins that popped out and a jawline that seemed unnaturally sharp.

My body finally relaxed as it registered no danger, my arm going lax as I lowered my bow and arrow. It took a few more seconds for the man standing in front of me to mirror my actions, eyebrows furrowed deeply with conflict on his face. I knew why he was looking at me like that, a striking reminder of the crimes he was forced to commit, but I didn’t let that deter me from the kindness I always showed to him.

“Hello,” I spoke up softly, mindful of the animals around us and the fact that he was here to hunt too, “I’m sorry for startling you.”

He didn’t speak up, he rarely did when he was in my vicinity—not that he spoke much around people ever since the Games—but that didn’t throw me off from continuously treating him like a human being, something he was, had always been, will continue being. I knew many didn’t treat him like that anymore, everyone threw him glares and spat harsh words at him, but the absent look in his eyes never changed. It was like he wasn’t really there.

“Are you just starting your hunt, by chance?” I questioned, placing my arrow in its holster as I continued holding onto my bow. Despite having lowered his weapon—a bow and arrow, as well—his fingers still curled tightly around the butt of the arrow, almost as if his body refused to relax in my presence. I understood why.

“No.” I tried not to show my surprise when he answered verbally, his voice a low rasp and a deep rumble in his chest. It hadn’t always been like that, when we were younger, his voice used to be squeaky almost like a mouse and oftentimes shrill when he giggled or laughed.

“I have just come out to hunt,” I continued, keeping the soft smile on my lips, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore as I watched him struggle to release his arrow, “Would you like to join me?”

He stiffened again, and I knew why, but his movements became frantic all of a sudden, the arrow slipped in its holster and the bow was back around his wide shoulders. He looked up, face almost pained as he stared at mine deeply, then he shook his head. I didn’t move nor say anything as he suddenly took off, feet tangling in weed and almost sending him flying onto the floor of the forest, but I didn’t help him. I knew he’d hate it, he didn’t let anyone touch him, so I just stayed put and willed myself to watch him as he just barely regained his balance. I wanted to help, but he didn’t allow me, he never has and never will. The meadow was wide, covered in lush green weeds, trees, bushes and colourful flowers, fallen twigs and leaves, logs and rocks, but he still came towards me, not avoiding my body. It was new, most of the time he’d walk around me and not even spare me another glance, but today his eyes were piercing and his stance held more confidence than I have seen in him ever since the Games. My smile didn’t slip off my lips, I was grateful that he wasn’t so keen on avoiding me anymore. But still, almost as if he realized what he was doing, his steps veered away and he went around me just last minute, the fabric of his forest green jacket brushing against my knuckles. I swallowed, nervous for no reason as I turned my head to look after him, “Goodbye, Mingi.”

He flinched when I said his name, he always did and perhaps always will, but instead of ignoring me he looked back too, jaw clenched, but he offered a silent greeting with a nod of his head. My smile widened and his eyes did too at the motion, then he paled, body visibly shaking as he suddenly took off in a sprint, leaving my heart aching and hands trembling as he disappeared from view, my legs giving out as I sat on the muddy floor of the forest. I couldn’t blame him, I never did and I never will, but he made it infinitely harder to cope with the pain of having lost my twin sister because of him.

            The hunt had been successful, I managed to catch four wild ducks, which meant plenty of good coins for a tasty dinner for three. I have started training to become a nurse around a year ago, right after losing my sister, and that meant we were tight on money. I couldn’t say my family struggled much despite being from District 12, but after my sister’s death, it felt like things had slowed down. Money started coming in rather scarcely and it made me realize that she had been an important contributor to our income. Unable to sit back and watch my parents struggle, I decided to follow her path. It had been her dream to become a nurse, to reach the Capitol and become a great doctor, but the Games took both her and her dream away from us. It was a hard blow, it was hard because Mingi could’ve sacrificed himself for a woman who had a whole future planned ahead of herself unlike him, who failed to finish school in his last year and was supposed to work in a mine for the rest of his life. He was selfish, scared, and desperate to remain alive, all reasonable emotions when you’re faced with the choice to kill someone or be killed.

I never blamed him for killing my twin sister, I never hated him for being selfish and shooting his arrow straight into her heart. At least she left this terrifying world quickly and painlessly. I never wished death upon Mingi when my mother wailed while my father held her in his arms and rocked her, sobbing just as loudly as her when the camera span on my sister’s lifeless eyes and face. I never blamed Mingi for her death because he sobbed just as hard as us after the kill, holding her frail frame in his arms as he screamed towards the sky, words unheard as the cameras didn’t record audio too. I didn’t blame him when I found refuge in the meadow my sister loved so much, curled up in a ball in the tall grass as I cried loudly, chest aching and ears ringing until nightfall, when I finally felt empty and numb. And I still didn’t blame him when he returned home, crowned as the winner of last year’s Hunger Games, rewarded with so much money it would last him generations and a house at the Victor’s Village so big three families could fit inside. And despite the pain I felt when the train came to a screeching halt and he got off with empty eyes and sunken cheeks, our eyes meeting for a brief moment, I couldn’t hate him or blame him because the Song Mingi once everyone had known was gone.

The sky had turned darker as the sun hid behind the trees, the moon taking its place in the sky as mist settled upon the forests that surrounded our district. And despite the nightfall, the Hob was alive and buzzing with people who were desperate to trade their goods in exchange for some coins in order to survive another day. The four wild ducks I had caught, I had cut up and taken their feathers off, were displayed on the small table I managed to fetch from behind the building that has seen better days, and I set it up next to an old lady who sold trinkets and jewellery that looked older than even her. I have promised to give her the smaller duck in trade for a silver bracelet that had one pearl. I had never seen a pearl up close, and despite knowing that I’d never wear it, I’d figure out eventually what I wanted to do with it. Perhaps I’ll give it as a gift to my father, since it looked way too big for a woman’s wrist, or perhaps I’ll bring it to my sister’s grave and leave it as a gift to her. I didn’t dwell on the thought much.

The Hob was well-lit despite the old lamps that hung above our heads, and the late summer chill had settled inside, prompting everyone to wear their warmer clothes. I had accepted the battered blanket the old lady handed me when she saw me shivering, and promised to return tomorrow with ointment for her cut-up hands. I couldn’t tell whether she had nobody to look out for her or if her family had simply abandoned her, but I have promised myself after my sister’s death that I would help those who needed help yet couldn’t pay with coins for my services. A flower, cheese and bread, or even a small trinket would be good enough for me, I’d make use of it if it meant I helped a soul that needed attention and care.

Three ducks still sat on the table in front of me and I smiled warmly at everyone who wandered towards me, hungry eyes fixating on the ducks. The man that stood in front of me was a mine worker, I knew him because he worked with my father numerous times before.

“Hello, sir.” I greeted him and his eyes briefly looked up at me.

“Your father must be proud of you for helping out,” He muttered under his breath as he scratched his already irritated neck, “he speaks of you a lot on our breaks. How much for one duck?”

“Five coins will do, sir,” I answered him politely, but as he looked inside his pouch his face had turned ashen, then furious.

“Five is too much, child, who do you think can pay so much?” His voice turned harsh, and the lady next to me cast a glance our way.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I risk my life stepping outside the boundaries of our district, five coins are cheap for my sacrifices and the duck.” I didn’t let him waver my resolve, I knew how people were here. They would try to trick their way out of paying the worth of the items, and I wouldn’t fall for his manipulations. But the man seemed displeased as his fist came down on the table, making me jump. I wasn’t a violent person, but I was glad for the knife that was hidden underneath my clothes, pressing against my hip as a reminder that it was there. The old lady now looked at us, eyebrows furrowing.

“Maybe you should return to your little nursing school and fuck off to the Capitol like your sister had—”

“If you cannot pay five coins, walk along!” The old lady snapped next to me, eyes hardened and voice raised as it turned heads, curious eyes watching the tense exchange. The man threw her a glance and scoffed before he reached inside his pouch and retrieved the coins I had asked for, throwing them on the table as he grabbed one duck and stalked off. I sighed but gave the old lady a thankful smile and collected the coins, crouching down to retrieve one as it had tumbled to the ground. The cacophony of the market seemed to quieten at once until it turned into just murmurs, and I stood back up with a confused look on my face. I was a bit far from the entrance of the Hob and couldn’t see far ahead due to the number of people inside, but when the crowd started parting for a certain person, I understood their reaction.

Despite the camouflage he tried wearing, his clean and thick clothes managed to make him stick out like a sore thumb, his small eyes sharper now that the lower half of his face was concealed by a black silk scarf. He still wore the same jacket as earlier today, a satchel bag sitting against his hip as he wandered further inside the market. People whispered behind his back and stepped aside when he came too close, and I watched as people glared at him behind his back, pointing fingers and no doubt throwing insults at him. I wondered if people from other districts treated their Victors the same way people here treated Mingi. Maybe it was because my sister was a beloved figure in our district, a professional healer and always kind to everyone, maybe it was because Mingi had lost himself halfway into the games and murdered those who crossed his path viciously. Behind all the stares, glares and whispers lay something deeper. It was fear because people were reminded of their animalistic side, of who they could turn into when faced with the question of whether they wanted to live or die. They were scared because everyone knew they would do the same Mingi had done, kill an innocent and kind person in order to survive.

It was almost as if the market had frozen over when Mingi finally reached my humble table, silence so loud it irked my ears as everyone watched on edge our exchange. His eyes didn’t settle on my face for long, reluctant to look at me when so many were watching us, but I just smiled and looked at him with kindness, “Good evening, Mingi.”

I could hear gasps even, mouths hanging open as the Victor halted in front of the ducks I managed to hunt, eyes sweeping over them as if he did a quick count in his head. Even if minuscule, his eyes conveyed surprise and somewhat admiration when we looked up at me again, but upon seeing my smile, his eyes steeled, becoming devoid of any emotion. He nodded his head once in acknowledgement, then swiftly walked off, eyes set on a table that was littered with old and new weapons alike. Mingi had the money to buy the best of the best, but he always came to the Hob, late at night, probably hoping fewer people would be here. He could afford luxuries, but he preferred helping out those in need. He never said anything when they demanded more of him, he just wordlessly handed them the coins and left with a quiet ‘Thank you’. People catalogued him as selfish and ruthless, but he was deeply caring and rather selfless. It all mattered on the perspective you had of him and whether you wanted to spot the good in him or not.

Once Mingi was on his way towards other stalls and tables, the market seemed to regain its liveliness while remaining aware and alert of his presence amongst the crowd. Nobody approached him and nobody spoke to him, the vendors gave him second glances and seemed reluctant to acknowledge him despite the money they knew he could offer them. My eyes remained on his tall form, his shoulders hunched forward, as people passed by my table, sometimes stopping to inquire about the price of the wild ducks. A girl, too young to be here, bounced towards my table as she held onto her mother’s hand, eyes stuck on the ducks. My heart ached at the sight of her frail frame and the ghastliness of her mother’s face, and when she tried to veer her daughter away because they barely had any money, I cleared my throat and stepped around the table.

“Hello,” I greeted them kindly, and smiled at the girl as her eyes shone with enthusiasm, “Would you like to buy some wild duck?”

“We don’t have enough money, sorry.” The mother muttered embarrassed and I quickly shook my head.

“Well, you’re in luck tonight then, because I’m not looking for money.” I have acquired ten coins as I have sold two ducks, and while I still needed at least ten more, everyone had to make sacrifices and I wasn’t about to let them walk away without the duck in a bag and in their hands.

“But—”

“Come.” I beckoned the little girl towards myself, disregarding the mother as her eyes widened, “Which one would you like?”

I crouched down to be at the same height as the girl and she smiled widely at me, eyes sweeping over the two ducks that have remained on the table. She stuck her tongue out as she seemed to analyse both, then pointed to the larger one and I grinned back at her.

“That’s a good one,” I said with a chuckle and the girl shyly ran back to her mom to hide behind her skirt. I grabbed a paper bag and carefully placed the duck inside of it as the mother’s eyes followed my every move.

“I cannot accept this.” She tried to refuse but I was having none of it as I handed the bag to the little girl instead.

“You can.” I said with a reassuring smile, “My mother is looking for a seamstress, perhaps you can help her out sometime?”

I knew the woman was a seamstress whose business wasn’t flourishing anymore, but she was still clinging on to it, trying to do her best as she raised her daughter. Nobody knew who her father was and they had been treated harshly ever since she was born. Tears sprung into the mother’s eyes and she bowed her head deeply, “Thank you, I’ll make sure to do a good job. Bring in your clothes too, if they need fixing.”

“I sure will, thank you.” I bowed back and looked at the little girl, “Do you like pies?”

“I do!” She exclaimed happily and I chuckled.

“Well, then, I’ll see you two sometime next week with a pie and three dresses.” The mother bowed her head again and thanked me as a tear fell down her cheek, then she veered her daughter towards the exit as she blabbered on about how she loved duck meat the most. With a content smile on my lips, I walked back behind my table as I felt eyes on me. The old lady had a thoughtful look on her face as I faced her, and then she looked towards the crowd and sighed loudly.

“Your parents have raised you well, both you and your sister.” The old lady said and I nodded, agreeing with her, “She was kind too, but you are kinder, my dear. You have never expected anything in exchange for your actions, ever since you were little.”

“If we don’t stick together, then who will help us out?” I asked, eyebrows furrowing and my mood souring, “Surely not President Snow and the people from the Capitol, right?”

The old lady gave me a long look as she hummed, eyes looking back onto the crowd as I heard someone yelp. Curious, I turned my head and tried to pinpoint whoever had called out in fright, but the crowd was big and I couldn’t see anyone.

“Be brave and honest, but careful, even the walls have ears, my dear.” The old lady advised as men started shouting, the crowd crying out in fright again as suddenly it started dispersing not far from us, the people hid behind tables and next to vendors as another man exclaimed in pain. My eyebrows furrowed as I perked up, walking around my table as the crowd was clearing and I could almost see what was happening up ahead.

“What is the matter—” My eyes widened when I realized someone had Mingi’s torso pressed against a table, face down, wrists held behind his back as he struggled to break free as he hissed and glared viciously. My eyes widened as suddenly he kicked his leg backwards, and the man holding him folded over in pain as he released the Victor, scrambling back as Mingi whirled around with a wild look in his eyes, hands held out protectively in front of himself. The crowd steeled for a second, my heartbeat quickening as I realized he had the same look in his eyes as earlier today. Then, almost at once, three men jumped forward and tried to restrain him as Mingi pulled a knife from his pocket, sneering at whoever jumped at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I didn’t know what led to this altercation, but something felt wrong. Mingi was inoffensive, he never attacked first and he wouldn’t even hurt a fly even if it bothered him. Someone must’ve done or said something that made him so defensive.

But the men didn’t care as more women screamed, and I gripped the edge of my table as they jumped towards him, trying to take him down. Mingi was alone and despite being strong, he couldn’t defend himself against three men who were stronger and really angry. The way he held his knife was obvious enough that he didn’t intend to harm anyone, it was obvious enough to me that he was scared. My heart leapt into my chest as a man jumped at him from behind, unseen by almost everyone, an arm going around Mingi’s neck as the one to his right slapped the knife out of his tight hold. Then, his knees were kicked out from underneath him and he fell with a terrified cry, trashing around as the men tried to restrain his frantic movements. I took off without realizing my legs were taking me in their direction, heart beating fast as my ears rang, head aching the more Mingi’s cries started sounding less aggressive and more scared, but nobody seemed to hear them or care about them.

I pushed people out of the way, unapologetic and frantic, running around tables and jumping over crates as they were in my way, the only goal in my mind to reach him. Held down like that, his eyes were wide and filled with helplessness, the same look had been reflected in my sister’s when she had been shot in the heart. Mingi was still trashing around but his body was trembling now and it was audible that he was struggling to breathe. My body was lit with deep anger as I realized everyone was feeding off of his fear instead of realizing he was having a panic attack. The last person I pushed aside gave me a look and went to grab at me, but I threw them a menacing glare before I broke free of the crowd finally, panting as the attention was on both Mingi and me now. The men who held him were smirking and mocking him, but a look of confusion crossed their faces when I stood in front of them, frantic and desperate to stop this.

“Stop it!” I snapped, voice a lot more high-pitched than I expected it to be, “Let go of him!”

“He’s like a rabid dog,” One man hissed, “Like hell, are we releasing him. He’ll hurt us—”

“I said,” My voice held danger as I itched to grab my knife and hold it threateningly towards the men, “let him fucking go!”

And if my scream didn’t chill the onlookers, then Mingi’s helpless whimper did as his eyes screwed shut tightly, even his head shaking as he struggled to breathe. I didn’t wait for the men to listen to me as I scrambled towards Mingi, falling to my knees with a loud thud as my knees shook from the impact, but I didn’t care as he was finally released. He flinched and tried to flee, but my cold fingertips traced his forehead as his eyes snapped open, wide and shaking as they bore into mine.

“It’s okay,” My voice was quiet and gentle, assuring, “I’m going to take this off.”

I gently grabbed the scarf that covered his nose and lips, and a strong hand suddenly grabbed at my bicep. The men tried to touch Mingi again, but I threw them a warning look.

“You’ll be able to breathe better, Mingi,” I said with the same softness as the grip on my arm continued to tighten, but Mingi didn’t object as I slowly pulled the scarf off his lower face. He gasped and clung onto me with both hands now, lips trembling as his body shook. He looked smaller than he was, he looked on the verge of passing out. With a shaky breath, I traced his thick eyebrows and brushed his long bangs out of his eyes as I offered him the smallest smile.

“Mingi, what we’ll do next is easy, alright?” He gasped as he was hyperventilating, but his eyes were stuck to my lips, “We’ll breathe together, alright? We inhale big and exhale long, good? You’re safe, Mingi.”

I didn’t know how much my words managed to reach his mind, but I started taking big inhales and long exhales, hoping that he’d soon follow my lead. People gawked at us and murmured, horrified that I was helping the man who mercilessly killed my twin sister. I didn’t care, Mingi was human too and he was suffering. It was right in front of their noses, the fact that he was still struggling and paying the consequences of his actions, but nobody seemed to actually care that he wasn’t just a rich and scary Victor now.

“In,” I inhaled, holding Mingi’s cold face in my hands as his fingers dug into my cardigan, “Out.”

And he was slowly catching on to how to breathe in and out, his chest expanding and then falling back as he emptied his lungs. His body was shaking and he would still whimper or become smaller when someone made a sound too loud, but I was here, and I was determined to help him regain his senses, regain himself. It took him a few good minutes, but his frantic breaths have found a new rhythm, much calmer and quieter than before, inhaling and exhaling at the same time with me. A small smile crossed my face when I realized he was slowly returning to himself, my thumbs gently rubbed the skin under his eyes, trying to bring the smallest form of comfort. His grip relaxed around my biceps and his body leaned towards mine as if it was trying to drink in my warmth, I let him nuzzle his face into my hands as his body finally stopped trembling. The people around us went quiet and I gulped, trying to keep my composure in front of everyone. I was mad, I was angry and I wanted to scream at them for treating him like an animal, for caging him in and making him feel like he was in danger, like he was back in the arena once again, triggering a panic attack and probably unwanted memories that he tried to bury deep down.

“You’re safe, Mingi.” His eyes snapped open and bore into mine, irises expanded and still alarmed as he took breaths through his mouth, hands slipping down from my biceps to my wrists. His grip was painful and I understood that he wanted my hands off his skin, so I pulled them back into my lap, but he didn’t let go of me just yet. His eyes were shaking again, tears sprung into them and he gulped, subtly shaking his head. He had become paler than he was before, and I knew the crowd was too much, the eyes and the whispers, the fingers that were pointed at us and the sneers, the judgemental stares. I gripped his wrists back and stood, looking down at Mingi as I silently asked him to stand as well.

His eyes continued boring into mine, face ashen, but at least he knew he was safe as long as he didn’t let go of me.

            The petals of the soft pink flower felt dainty underneath my fingertips as I gently traced them, a small smile on my lips as I inhaled their scent before rearranging the bouquet in the vase. I had brought them in from the meadow just yesterday, so they were still fresh and flourishing. The meadow was full of the pinkish coloured Musk Mallows which was my twin sister’s favourite flower. She’d always gush about their softness and beauty, collecting a small bouquet for herself to decorate her grim side of our shared room. I wasn’t fond of the flower at first, its smell irritating my nostrils, but with the passing of years and sneaking to the meadow before sunset, I started loving their familiarity. The meadow was peaceful, quiet, and far away from the Peacekeepers and the grey haze of District 12. It was a reminder of what our Earth must’ve looked like before the nuclear war destroyed it and forced it to become what Panem is today.

The pink flowers reminded me of freedom and of my sister, of a dream that was possible to achieve if you never gave up and fought for it. It reminded me of love and laughter and the look on my sister’s face whenever she cradled it to her chest, of the chastising of our parents for sneaking out once again, but the fondness on their faces when my sister and I would sprint to our rooms giggling and talking about going to the meadow again tomorrow to make flower crowns for our mother and father. It reminded me of tender touches and a quiet love that you didn’t have to talk about or scream it out into the world for everyone to see it or understand it, it reminded me of a toothy smile and small eyes that once used to laugh, of sneaked glances and shy looks passed between classes.

The deep voice of my father's and my mother’s gentler one carried outside of their room, all the way to the kitchen as I changed the flowers’ water, my parents’ murmur gentle and warm. The water was cold against my skin and it made me shiver despite the warm summer breeze that came inside through the open window, and I smiled when I heard footsteps coming into the kitchen. My father was dressed in his overalls, his tools in a handbag and a cap low over his eyes as my mother came following him outside, fussing about the hole in his jacket’s arm. Their love had always been quiet and subtle, it was always about noticing the small things, about doing something quietly for the other one.

“Don’t worry, a small hole won’t make me feel cold down in the mine.” My father’s voice held amusement as he grabbed the jacket out of my mother’s hands. I rearranged the flowers in the vase once I was satisfied with the amount of water inside the glass, and chanced a glance in my parents’ direction.

“But it will seem like your wife is unable to sew it for you,” My mother’s eyebrows were furrowed and I chuckled quietly, picking out seven pink flowers from the bouquet.

“And isn’t that true?” Teasing bordered my father’s tone as he gave my mother a cheeky smile, and she looked away with an embarrassed huff, “Don’t worry, nobody will notice it. It’s rather dark down there.”

“Do you remember the small pink and purple boutique at the square?” I perked up, gaining my parents’ attention as if they were oblivious to my presence.

“The lady who has a daughter now?” My mother asked as she fixed my father’s collar, remaining close by his side.

“Yes, hers.” I nodded, then crouched down to place the flowers I picked out of the vase inside my basket, “She owes me a small favour, we should bring our faulty clothes to her.”

“I heard she’s been struggling,” My father trailed off as he looked at me, but not for too long, then grabbed my mother’s hand, “well then, why not? Everyone needs some coins to make due.”

“Right.” My mother nodded with a smile as I grabbed my basket and mentally prepared myself for a good enough excuse, “We should visit her, then, sometime this week—Y/N, where are you going, honey?”

I froze in front of the front door and tried to look as innocent as possible, “I’ll stop by at a house before I head to the Nursery, one of my patients was sick lately.”

“In the middle of summer?” My father asked with confusion, eyes straying from my face when I looked at him sadly.

“Some old people are barely hanging on, dad.” I muttered but shook off the grim thought, “I’ll see you tonight, right?”

“Sure, take care of yourself.” He said gently and I nodded, eyeing my mother as her fingers curled around my father’s arm just a bit tighter. Working in a mine had always been dangerous, it had always taken away lives way too abruptly and painfully.

“See you, then.” I waved at my parents and they smiled, proud but with sadness bordering their eyes as they never looked at me for too long. I understood why. The face which was mine hadn’t always been just mine, it had once been my twin sister’s too, even if slightly different. I didn’t blame them like I didn’t blame Mingi, and I never got angry at them like I never got angry at Mingi. Everyone suffered and coped in their own way with loss, and when things got too difficult to bear anymore, I knew I would find solace in the meadow that reminded me so much of my sister.

The walk to the Victor’s Village wasn’t too long, but it was midday and the streets were littered with people going on about their day. I greeted those who offered me smiles and I stopped to talk with those who needed my advice as a nurse. Young children laughed and screamed in the courtyard as I passed by the school, pleasant memories flooding my mind as a young girl clung to the gates and waved at me with a giggle. It reminded me of when I tried to scale the gate in order to prove that I was strong, only to fall and twist my ankle as I tried not to wail, but instead swallow the pain and smile when my classmates started fussing over me. It had been—an already—tall and lanky figure that pushed everyone aside with worry on his face as he came to kneel next to me, thick eyebrows furrowed as he clumsily grabbed my leg, applying pressure where it hurt most. I cried out, scaring everyone, and they started shouting at the boy, trying to pull him away from me as they accused him of hurting me, but I didn’t want him to go. His touch was warm and gentle, scared but willing to help, and I only stopped throwing a fit when the other children left him alone and made him pick me up and carry me to the Nursery that was close by. His voice was still scratchy back then, but it was soft and friendly, “You’re safe, Y/N.”

Nervous for no reason, I readjusted the collar of my lavender-coloured dress and then knocked against the perfectly white door, the air a bit clearer over here. The Victor’s Village was just by the borders of District 12, meaning that it was closer to the forest and meadow I loved so much. It was always silent here, and it smelled of flowers and baked goods whenever the Song’s front door was open to let the fresh air in. Only two houses were inhibited inside the Village and at night it could seem eery, almost haunted by all the lives lost in the Hunger Games. But my irrational nervousness came to a stop when the front door opened and an elderly smiling face welcomed me on the other side.

“Oh, my dear,” The elder woman, Mrs. Song, had a surprised look on her face, “I didn’t expect to see you so soon!”

After everything that’s happened at the Hob last night, I wouldn’t have abandoned Mingi, leave him alone to deal with the aftereffects of his panic attack. I stuck to his side and walked him back to the Victor’s Village as no words were exchanged between us, but the fact that he didn’t shuffle too far from my body was the confirmation I needed that he appreciated my presence and persistence. I was a nurse in training, after all, and he was just a person fighting against the demons inside his mind.

“It was due time I brought you a new ointment, Mrs. Song.” I said with a smile as Mingi’s grandmother beckoned me inside, “And I picked fresh flowers yesterday, I figured they would look nice in your kitchen or living room.”

The old lady’s face lit up upon hearing about the flowers, and I had just barely stepped out of my sandals when her hand gripped my wrist and pulled me after herself. Despite the house being managed by an elderly couple and their grandchild, it was in perfect condition and always pristine clear. I have offered to help them out more often, but Mrs. Song had always said that they were doing fine and capable of handling the huge house on their own. I didn’t want to push them or make them feel incapable since they had Mingi back now, thankfully, and they wouldn’t need another pair of hands to help out. While my sister and Mingi were in the Games, I frequently stopped by the Song’s small house to help the elderly couple with anything I could. Sometimes I cooked for them, other times I helped scrub the house clean, and when their legs hurt too much, I would sell their baked goods at the market and bring back the coins for them.

“You’re so sweet,” Mrs. Song mused as she directed me towards the large table in the kitchen, “Take a seat, I made some apple pie just this morning, it’s my Mingi’s favourite. Would you like some too?”

“I wouldn’t want to take it away from him, then, since it’s his favourite—”

“Nonsense.” Mrs. Song waved her hand, hurrying to take a plate and fork, “That boy is so tall but so skinny. He barely eats anything lately, my dear, what should I do to bring back his appetite?”

It’s been almost a year since his Games, and sometimes I found myself throwing up after eating, my sister’s lifeless eyes flashing behind my eyes, a constant reminder that she wasn’t here anymore. That she wouldn’t go to the Capitol and that she wouldn’t become a nurse, never to hunt again or lay in the flower field at the meadow.

“Just be gentle and patient with him, Mrs. Song,” I placed the basket on the table and opened it, “I can’t guarantee he’ll ever be fine, but he’s doing better. I can see it in his eyes.”

“He’s still haunted by memories,” Mrs. Song whispered defeated as I grabbed the flowers and the tin can of ointment for her leg, “but he doesn’t wake up from nightmares so often anymore.”

“He’ll get better with time, he’ll eventually stop blaming himself.” I whispered as I headed towards Mrs. Song, who had paused and had her head lowered, “He’s lucky to have you and Mr. Song, and you’re doing everything you can for him. It’s good, I am glad he has people who love him and support him.”

Mrs. Song hummed and turned her head to look at me, taking the items from my hands. She smelled the flowers and grinned, placing the ointment by the sink as she went to fetch a vase for the pinkish flowers, “I had always been able to tell whether it was your sister or you, you know? Remember when you brought my Mingi candies when he helped you with your homework? Your sister never quite liked him, I once watched her kick him in the shin because he refused to carry her to school on his back.”

I blushed and looked away feeling embarrassed as Mrs. Song started laughing quietly, amused by the recall of a longtime memory, “You’ve always been soft-spoken and calm, you always looked at my Mingi with admiration and understanding in your eyes. I know he’s not—he appreciates everything you’ve done for him since—since that day, and he’s trying to mend your once bond.”

“It was her who volunteered to take my spot,” My throat felt a little tight, like something was bothering it from the inside, “she knew what she’d have to face, she chose her fate willingly. Mingi only did what everyone else did before him and will do after him, I just wish he was …more willing to receive kindness and love.”

Mrs. Song hummed and gave me a long look before she walked back to me, grabbing the curtain of the small window as she pulled it to the side. She had a big smile on her lips as she gazed outside, and I followed her line of sight, stunned by what I saw. Mingi was outside in the back garden with his grandfather, crouched down and digging up the soil as a half-empty sack lay next to him. His grandfather was fanning himself and holding a bottle of water as his mouth moved, telling Mingi something that made him smile. It was small at first, barely a twitch of the corner of his plump and red lips, but then it expanded slowly into something wider. Something which pulled at the corner of his sharp eyes and softened them up, the brown in them brighter and warmer as his smile only became bigger, crooked front teeth on display, boxy and warm. It lit up his sharp face and made him look kind and friendly, so easily lovable, so easily approachable. The smile made his eyes so small you almost couldn’t see them as they creased, long and tall nose scrunching up as his chest started shaking. It looked like when he was sobbing, but now he was laughing, loudly and joyously, and it made it harder to look at him than at the blazing sun.

My breath hitched and something dormant stirred in my chest, something that made my heart pump my blood faster and my palms ball up into fists as my eyes widened, lips parting in surprise the longer I watched the joy expand on his whole face, making him throw back his head, his black hair not obscuring his eyes for once. His skin was pale despite its tan complex, making it obvious that he didn’t spend much time outside anymore, but under the warm rays of the sun, it made him glow brightly and breathtakingly. He looked casual in his white shirt, which threatened to fall off his right shoulder, and his dark blue trousers were dirtied by the soil his knees dug into. He looked gorgeous, beautiful and mesmerizing, and I have just realized I never wanted to see him cry or frown or tremble in fear ever again. I wanted Mingi to be happy, to be joyous and grateful that he was still alive. I wanted him to smile and laugh every day, his warm eyes trained on me—on my face—without pain or hesitance lingering in them. I wanted Mingi to see me and not my dead twin sister in the reflection of my features.

I gulped, suddenly aware of the tears in my eyes when Mrs. Song placed her wrinkly hand on top of my fisted one, gently squeezing it. Her eyes bore into the side of my head and I sniffed once, trying to gather myself and blink the tears away. Mrs. Song remained silent, but she hummed and gently helped my hands relax as I uncurled them, pressing them into the cold countertop, “He smiles like that from time to time, when he’s able to let go of everything and just be in the moment. I know you miss my grandson, and I know you miss your sister even more.”

“I was never meant to lose both of them,” I whispered, voice strained as I forced my head to turn, Mingi’s laughter and happiness burned into the forefront of my mind, “The Games were never supposed to take away the sister I loved with my whole being, and they were never supposed to take away the innocence and light in Mingi.”

“Life isn’t always fair, my dear,” Mrs. Song said as she let the curtain fall back in place, “Sometimes unexplainable things happen and if we dwell on them trying to find an explanation, whether ordinary or divine, we threaten to lose ourselves in an impossible quest. You’re stronger than anyone has ever thought you’d be, don’t let the darkness get to you like it gets to most of us. You have no idea how much it means that there’s someone who views Mingi like a human being besides me and his grandfather, I was afraid he’d end up like Haymitch, but he’s still fighting and trying to do his best.”

“Mingi’s stronger than he gives credit to himself,” I said with conviction as I walked towards the sink to fetch the ointment I brought, “He’ll never end up like poor Haymitch. I’ll have to check on him soon.”

“He’s still breathing, if you’re worried about him.” Mrs. Song’s tone was sour as she knocked on the window, “I went over today, brought him some pie too. It was the first time since we moved here that he didn’t slam the door in my face, I suspect apple pie is also his favourite.”

Mrs. Song and I chuckled to ourselves as we heard the front door open and then close loudly, manly voices conversing about whether the new seeds they had planted would grow out fast or not. I opened the tin can and handed it to Mrs. Song so that she could smell it and realize I had infused some cinnamon into it since it’s her favourite scent. Her eyes lit up and she grinned just as the men appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, Mr. Song’s laughter gruff, followed by a scratchy cough. I let my eyes fall on the grandfather and grandson, their eyes and noses very similar, it seemed like the traits had carried over to Mingi too. His grandparents weren’t tall people, but judging by the small fragments of memories of Mingi’s parents, I could remember his father being an intimidatingly tall man. Unfortunately, he died in a mining accident when Mingi and I were barely five years old, and his mother unfortunately died not even two years later due to an incurable sickness.

“Oh, Miss Park, what brings you our way?” Mr. Song asked in surprise as he tried to stand up straighter, dusting off his pants and making soil fall onto the clean floors. Mrs. Song’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t say something as Mr. Song acted like he was innocent.

“I wanted to bring Mrs. Song a new ointment for her leg, hopefully, this will work better.” I tried to act like it didn’t hurt when Mingi’s expression fell once he realized it was me who stood in their kitchen, “Is your chest alright, Mr. Song? Do your lungs still hurt when you cough?”

“Ah, no, don’t worry about me!” He quickly brushed my concerns off, but my eyes were stuck on Mingi as he shuffled on his feet, shoulders hunching as if he was trying to look smaller. He didn’t look my way, sharp eyes pointed to the floor, but his face was void of any expression. I could still see his smile in front of my eyes, I could even imagine what his deep laughter sounded like—probably higher-pitched because it had always been breathy—but it remained as an unfulfilled desire because Mingi would never look at me like that, just with anguish and pain in his eyes, “And are you well? I hope our Mingi didn’t inconvenience you too much last night—”

“Helping him, or anyone for the matter, is never an inconvenience to me, Mr. Song.” I didn’t mean to cut the elder man off, nor to sound too snappy, but I couldn’t help myself. The anger and rage I felt last night for the treatment Mingi was forced to face at the Hob still simmered just underneath my skin, making me sensitive, “It wouldn’t have even happened if people stopped seeing him the way the Capitol has painted him, I—I can’t just stand and watch them torment him, I’m sorry. But I’m glad you’re feeling better today, Mingi.”

The Victor flinched when I said his name, gripping his left arm as he started scratching it through the fabric of the loose white shirt he wore, but he nodded his head and briefly looked up at me, a glimpse of gratitude visible on his face, “Thank you for stepping in.”

“Anytime,” I said, and then Mingi was looking anywhere but at me, my presence in his home clearly making him feel uncomfortable. Realizing that despite his grandparents always welcoming me eagerly with open arms, Mingi still didn’t feel comfortable nor keen on seeing me in the one place where he was supposed to be safe from everyone and everything. I understood why, so I didn’t let the thought sour my mood or bring my spirits down, instead, I went and gathered my basket with a smile on my face and glanced at Mrs. Song, “Thank you for the apple pie, but I’m needed at the Nursery, I’ll have it some other time perhaps. Mr. Song, don’t exert yourself too much and if you’re feeling unwell, let me know.”

The men stood aside so that I could leave the kitchen and despite making sure I didn’t walk too close to Mingi, my knuckles still brushed against the soft fabric of his shirt, just barely but it felt soft and warm. My body stiffened, but I didn’t stop despite Mingi’s head turning to look after me, eyebrows furrowed as he looked conflicted.

“Goodbye!” I called before I was out the door, forced to take deep breaths as my heart was hammering against my chest. I had thought I could do this. But the longer he looked at me with disdain, reluctance and pain in his eyes, the more my chest ached and my lungs constricted, trying to call out for the man I was missing, for the boy who always smiled when he saw me and averted his eyes shyly if he looked for too long. But I wasn’t giving up, I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t treat him like the monster the Capitol made him out to be.

            The Hob once was a place filled with laughter and good disposition, a place where people went to dance, listen to music and enjoy their evenings. Now, after the war that destroyed District 13, the Hob became a mere warehouse that was worn down by the passing of time, destroyed by harsh winters and scorching summers. With its missing windows and hollow insides, the people of District 12 made a place out of it that would host illegal night markets, a means of trying to earn more coins in plus despite it being illegal. The Peacemakers knew of it but they never interfered as long as those guarding it got something out of it too. But with the disappearance of what the Hob once used to be, it needed a replacement, a place that would bring people together still, bring some light into their dark every day. The Hut was that place, an old house of a family that have long died since, in a slightly better-off part of District 12. As expected, the Peacekeepers knew of this place too, but they rarely came to bother people as it was close to the mayor’s house, thus leading to fewer displays of aggressive behaviour. But there were exceptions, there always were exceptions.

The people of District 12 couldn’t be considered hostile or unfriendly, but they knew how to hold grudges, and they weren’t afraid to show their hatred toward one another. It’s this reason why they so blatantly mistreated Mingi, swearing and cursing at his face, brave to lay their hands on him without thinking that it could trigger memories from the Games, making him lash out. At the Hob, when he had a lapse of judgment, his panic attack was induced by something that triggered a terrible memory from the games, leading to the altercation. But people seemed to not understand this, ignorant and unwilling to hear me out and realize that they were hurting him more by their attitudes towards him, ostracizing him even more. My friends, who had always known how I felt about Mingi, were just as ignorant at first, blaming him and mocking him, but they’ve gotten better at accepting him and leaving him alone. They weren’t children anymore, I wouldn’t be held accountable for their actions and words, but I could at least try and open their eyes to reality.

The Hut was almost overflowing by the time me and my friends had arrived, rushing inside as the summer breeze bit at our exposed skin. The long-sleeved dress I wore was dark green, like the forest I’d go hunting at, and I had a dainty brown belt around my waist that my sister had gifted me a long time ago. It was made of leather and it must’ve cost a fortune to her, but she smiled widely and clapped her hands when I opened the small gift box, my eyes widening at the expensive clothing item. Now, knowing that she loved it when I wore it, I made sure to wear it as often as I could even if she wasn’t here to see me. It’s the thought that mattered, and I knew she’d be elated if she were here.

We managed to catch an empty table, just about fitting for seven people as we settled in our chairs, voices raised as the live band played their upbeat music, gathering dancing couples close by the scene and cheering everyone on to come and dance. My friends wanted to grab each a pint of beer before we’d mingle with others our age, so I volunteered to walk up to the bar and order us drinks as three Peacekeepers off duty had approached our table, obviously trying to charm the single ladies who sat there. I wasn’t keen on them, they were ruthless in their practices and unforgiving and fake even when they didn’t wear their uniforms. I had no interest in men like them, men who chose to serve the Capitol and earn a paycheck by asserting violence on others.

I pushed my way through the crowd and tried to dodge every drunk person that came my way, but someone had pushed me from behind just as I neared the bar, making me fall forward and crash into someone’s back. The person stiffened instantly and before I could panic, the familiar scent of the person reached my nose. The fabric of his sweater was soft underneath my fingertips, obviously being a gift from someone wealthy as nobody from District 12 could’ve afforded it. It was beige and had an intriguing black pattern knitted into it, making the sweater look even more cozy. I stepped back and up to the bar, cheeks flushed from the heat inside the place but also from stumbling so clumsily into Mingi.

“I’m sorry,” I spoke up as our eyes met, his widening as mine looked away, “someone pushed me and I lost my footing.”

Mingi didn’t answer, but his hand curled around his pint, knuckles turning white as he squeezed it. His eyes remained stuck on me, though, something unusual as I fumbled with my small purse to find enough coins for my order. I threw him a quick glance and he quickly averted his eyes, staring ahead as his eyebrows furrowed. His hair, surprisingly, was brushed out of his eyes and his cheeks were tinged pink, finally not so pale and sickly looking. His plump lips were chapped but Mingi didn’t seem to mind that as he took a small sip of his own beer. I leaned over the bar and motioned towards the one managing it that I needed seven pints. I wouldn’t be able to carry them to my table, but someone would help, I didn’t worry about that. Now that I had to wait, I turned my body to face Mingi’s, and watched as he stiffened when he realized I was looking at him.

“Are you here by yourself?” I asked with a small smile on my lips and he nodded, picking at a thread of his sleeve as they were longer than his hands and covered them. The sweater created the illusion that it swallowed Mingi’s broad and tall form, giving him a cosy look that oozed safety. I fought against the pull to step closer, to touch his sweater to feel its texture, to compliment him about the way he had styled his hair, finally not obscuring his beautiful eyes. Mingi remained silent, eyes pointed forward as the men standing by the bar gave him irritated looks, as if his mere existence was an inconvenience to them. I sighed and leaned back just a bit, throwing them a warning glare until they turned away, looking uncomfortable.

“Would you like to join me?” I tried with an innocent offer, my smile slightly widening, “I’m here with my—”

“No.” But Mingi’s answer was quick and almost frantic as his eyes widened a bit, his head turning just a little to look at me. He looked almost appalled by my offer and I felt bad for making him feel uncomfortable, but lately, I felt like I didn’t know what to say to him, what was appropriate and what was triggering.

“Right, sorry,” I muttered an apology as the host appeared with my pints of beer, a younger boy trudging after him with a grimace. He looked like he didn’t want to be here, and by the baby fat on his cheeks, he probably wasn’t even supposed to be here.

“Here, help the lady!” The host announced loudly and grabbed the coins I pushed towards him, pushing the younger boy around the bar. Mingi’s eyes fell on the boy, who seemed to pay Mingi no mind other than a quick glance, and I offered him a smile as I grabbed four pints.

“I’ll be here, Mingi.” I ignored it when he flinched, instead smiling wider, “In case you change your mind or need me.”

“Thanks.” I didn’t let my surprise show as he thanked me, quietly and almost hesitantly, but our eyes met and he nodded his head, eyes unsure as they remained stuck to my face. I lingered for a second, wishing to say more, to look at him more, but the young boy was already walking off with the other pints and I couldn’t stay by the bar forever. I nodded my head and swiftly walked off, not without looking back and realizing Mingi’s eyes were following me. It made my chest constrict, a lump in my throat rise as I forced a smile onto my face once I reached my friends’ table, which was filled with laughter and joy.

It felt nice breaking away from the monotonous days, from the grey mood everyone in District 12 seemed to have, it felt nice to spend an evening laughing and enjoying myself. Music seemed to always uplift my mood, and I loved watching people dance, eyes stuck to the way they twirled and moved, sometimes laughing, sometimes looking like they were concentrating too much. I loved to watch the gentleness they held each other with, the spark in their eyes and the ease with which they knew how to follow one's lead. The evening had turned into the late hours of the night, my stomach ached from laughing, but my feet still felt fine as I hadn’t danced just yet. Nobody had approached me and I didn’t want to dance with just anyone, so I also didn’t try to find a dance partner. Despite laughing and conversing with my friends, my eyes often strayed towards the bar, unable to focus on the conversation as I gazed at Mingi, wondering what was going through his mind. He didn’t move from the bar but he did find a seat on a stool, and he didn’t drink more than two pints of beer, but he did eat a pie that looked to be with apples. Nobody approached him and he didn’t approach anyone, he remained alone and stuck to himself as he often would look towards the dancing crowd, picking at the skin around his nails.

Mingi had once used to love to dance, whenever we came here, he wouldn’t sit down for even a second. We never came together, our friend groups were different, but we always somehow stumbled into each other. He had once tried to ask my sister to dance with him, but she gave him a disgusted look and stomped on his feet before storming off towards the boy she was head over heels. Taking pity on Mingi, whose lips were downturned and his head hung low, I told him I really wanted to dance but nobody wanted to dance with me. The joy was back on his face as he took my hand and led me towards the dancing people, blabbering on about his favourite songs and how he had tried playing the guitar before but failed. After that, Mingi always seemed to save me a dance before we’d head home. Perhaps there was one person, after all, that I expected to ask me to dance tonight, and it was Mingi.

I was sat at the table with just two of my friends as they drunkenly tried to ask about how my nursing school was working out, but I barely paid them any mind as I saw two men creeping towards Mingi. They seemed to be drunk too, but they had vicious smirks on their lips and narrowed eyes as they spoke between each other, pointing at Mingi’s back. My jaw clenched when one grabbed his shoulder and yanked him backwards, startling Mingi who almost managed to fall off the stool. The other leaned in uncomfortably close, spatting words in his face as Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, face falling slowly as fear coated his eyes. Sitting up abruptly and alerting my two friends, I paid them no mind as my legs carried me over to the bar, storming up to Mingi and the two idiots without paying mind to anything else.

“Excuse me.” My voice was loud and harsh as I snapped, jaw clenching when only Mingi seemed to realize I was there too, “Get your hands off him, now.”

And then I grabbed the man’s wrist who still held onto Mingi tightly, making sure to dig my nails into his skin as he yelped, turning around with fury on his face. I didn’t release him, not yet, as his face got red and his chest puffed up, prompting Mingi to slide off his stool, standing tall as he watched the exchange.

“You failed to hear me the first time,” I said, then pushed the man back by his hand before I released it, “surely a woman’s grip didn’t hurt you?”

The man scoffed as his hands balled up into fists, and suddenly Mingi was moving, making me gasp when I felt my back pressing into the bar, body shielded by his much taller and bigger one as he stood in front of me, gripping the other man’s forearm with a sneer on his face, “Don’t touch her.”

Mingi’s voice was low and threatening and it only took seconds for the man to start trembling as he tried to yank his arm free, looking towards his companion with a helpless look. But the man didn’t seem like he wanted to help as he watched Mingi with an open mouth.

“Mingi.” I whispered, scared that this would turn into a really bad scene, something I couldn’t help him get out of like at the Hob, “Would you like to dance with me?”

Mingi froze, dropping the man’s forearm as he turned around, eyebrows furrowed and body too close to mine. I looked up at him, finding myself breathing harder when I felt faint fingertips brushing against my knuckles, making my heart somersault.

“Yes.” And before my mind could register that Mingi had accepted to dance with me, a large hand on my waist was gently veering me around the crowd, leading me towards the dancing one, where the band’s music was louder and everyone was smiling and enjoying themselves. My heart raced in my chest as Mingi led us into the middle of the crowd, coming around me as his eyebrows were furrowed, hands hesitant to touch me anywhere despite having led me here by a hand on my waist. I gulped and raised one hand, deciding to make the first step and offering him a gentle invitation.

I didn’t think he’d actually take me up for a dance, I only said that to de-escalate the situation and to have an excuse for us to walk away from it. But Mingi seemed to take it seriously, his warm and large hand hesitantly slipping into mine. His hand was calloused from wielding a bow and arrow and from working in the back garden too, but his touch remained gentle and mindful. He didn’t wait for me to hold onto his shoulder as he pressed his other hand flatly against my lower back, guiding my body closer to his, but leaving a small gap. I gulped as I looked up, eyebrows furrowed as I fought against the tears that wanted to fill my eyes.

It felt like the world had stopped moving around us, as if the Games never existed, as if the old Mingi was back and my sister was watching us from the sidelines with a displeased look on her face. The tension eased from Mingi’s body and he looked at me with less guilt in his eyes as we made eye contact, but he still swallowed hard, lips parting as his voice was gruff and raspy, “Why are you so kind to me?”

“Because you deserve kindness,” I answered without hesitance, gripping his shoulder and clinging onto him too tightly, having little care about the fact that perhaps this was too much for Mingi, that maybe he didn’t want us standing so close, touching each other in familiar ways. But he remained silent as his body further relaxed, shoulders lowering as I felt his fingers jab into my lower back, with a tug on my belt he closed the gap between our bodies.

I couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, what was supposed to be a dance position felt an awful lot like an attempt at a hug, and I couldn’t breathe as I drowned in Mingi’s closeness, warmth and safety, letting my forehead press against his collarbone as a tear rolled down my cheek.

I hadn’t cried since my sister’s death.

            The days went by quickly here, people were used to their routines and they followed them diligently. Nothing ever interesting or intriguing happened, life was mostly grim and grey. Our District wasn’t well off and there were days when even the wealthiest had to sit back and consider whether throwing out money for luxuries was truly necessary or not. The Hob was filled with more and more people trying to earn a little more in plus, desperate as hungry children hid behind their mothers and hollow-cheeked men tried to be louder so that they’d attract attention upon their stalls. It was a hard-to-swallow picture at times, but it was what I grew up seeing my whole life. I still took pity on everyone, never getting quite used to seeing all the suffering these people had to endure, frequently reminded that I was one of them too, struggling at times to get by. Training to become a nurse had made me realize that I felt fulfilled helping others and that it made me find a purpose other than trying to survive day by day. It gave me hope that if I was capable of helping and healing others, instead of harming them and taking their lives away, then others were capable of taking me as an example to become better and more helpful towards their peers. District 12 had always been forgotten and misjudged by the public—hence why it came as a shock to the Capitol that Mingi was strong and perfectly capable of handling a weapon and defending himself—if our people didn’t stick together, then who would vouch for us?

Helping others, even in the smallest ways like bringing them water or even a slice of bread shouldn’t have been considered something impossible, offering a helping hand to an elderly couple shouldn’t have surprised others when they found out about it. That is why helping the Song family had never seemed like a nuisance to me. Before the Games, it didn’t feel wrong to anyone, but after Mingi returned as a Victor it wasn’t just him who was shunned, his grandparents were too, treated poorly by those who once had happily visited their small patisserie, looking out for the elderly pair who have raised a small child into a fine young man. It was disheartening to watch how the people treated the family, only to realize my own family viewed them the same way. My parents stopped asking about their well-being, about whether Mingi would’ve liked having dinner with us, whether I would go hunt with Mingi and bring back flowers for my sister, they acted as if he never existed. I understood their reasoning, but I couldn’t accept it. They couldn’t blame him for something that was out of his control, for something he was forced to do. That is why I never cared what others thought of me, what they said about me behind my back, whether they judged me or not for keeping in touch with the Song family. Only I could change my mind about them, nothing anyone else said about them could influence me in any way.

That is why I continued to stick around, that is why I visited them weekly to make sure the elderly couple was healthy and Mingi wasn’t cooped up in his room all the time. Today, just shy of a week since Mingi and I had danced at The Hut, I stopped by to see whether Mrs. Song needed help with house maintenance. I memorised the days she liked to clean the house, opening all windows and dusting off all shelves, moping the floors clean and baking something delicious for her husband and grandchild. The blueberry muffins were in the oven, their aroma making my stomach churn as Mrs. Song was perched on a chair, rearranging a shelf of books as she carefully cradled their spines, smiling whenever she opened a book, flipping through pages that were yellow already. I was sat on the windowsill as I cleaned the hinges of the window with a green rag, humming to myself as the birds outside chirped loudly, making me smile. Mr. Song had ventured inside the District, looking for trinkets as he was building a small jewellery box and needed something to decorate it with. If Mingi wasn’t home during the day, he most certainly was out hunting, so I didn’t have to ask Mrs. Song about his whereabouts.

“The Capitol people are coming next week and they’ll be here for a few days,” Mrs. Song spoke up as I felt her eyes on me, “you shouldn’t come over, for your own safety. They are curious people and they always ask questions, they always pester Mingi whether he has someone or not. There’s—bad people in the Capitol who tried to buy him but Haymitch didn’t let them, it’s a dangerous world. Mingi wouldn’t want you involved either.”

I gulped, gut coiling upon hearing people tried to buy him as if he wasn’t a living person with a will and control over his own choices, it didn’t sit well with me, “Is something the matter?”

“No, the Reaping is getting closer and President Snow wants to showcase last year’s Victor.” Mrs. Song sighed and carefully got off the chair, sitting on it instead, “Update the public about what he’s been up to lately and how he’s doing, it’s all for show, really. But Mingi hates it, he’s been more—silent and avoidant, he doesn’t leave his room so often anymore. I know he’s scared, he’s dreading the Reaping. He will probably have to go as a Mentor this year and he doesn’t want to. The nightmares are back too, I don’t know how to be there for him anymore. I don’t know what to do to reassure him anymore.”

A feeling of sadness permeated my whole being as I closed the window, shiny and as good as new as I faced Mrs. Song, “He knows you’re trying your best, and he’s trying his best too. Just let him be and offer him a shoulder to lean on when he comes to you, I think he’s gotten better at coping. I can make a tea for him, to sleep better and have less nightmares, if you want me to.”

“I’ll ask him about it.” Mrs. Song smiled and stood, bringing the chair back to its spot in the kitchen. I drew the curtains together and grabbed the rag to bring it to the bathroom and wash it clean, but as I stepped into the hallway, the front door opened and Mingi stepped through the threshold. His black hair was dishevelled and his attire was completely green, his jacket undone and t-shirt underneath muddy as he kicked his dirty shoes off by the door. He hadn’t noticed me yet as he held a wild duck in his hand, an arrow still lodged in its heart.

“’Ma, I’m—” When he looked up his body tensed, eyes stopping on me. I stood up a bit straighter and offered him a small welcoming smile.

“Hello.” I greeted, holding the rag with both hands in front of me. It’s been a week since we danced together and he hadn’t been as tense around me as before, he spoke a bit more, but he still kept his distance. He didn’t look at me for too long, but his eyes looked less haunted whenever he did, “How was your hunt?”

Mingi swallowed then his eyes looked down at his hands, the dead duck wasn’t dripping blood on the clean floor at least, “Short, but I caught something at least.”

“That’s good,” I smiled a bit wider, “your grandma will make a delicious stew out of it, I’m sure.”

Mingi hummed as his eyes were stuck on the arrow that went through the duck’s heart as if he was unable to look away. His thick brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, but he abruptly raised his head, eyes hard and body alarmed as I tried to stand as unthreateningly as I could. I didn’t want to trigger any memory if able, so I looked to the side as Mingi’s eyes continued boring into the side of my face, “Would you—would you like to—if my grandma makes stew, would you—the duck I caught, I—I’m sorry.”

Silence stretched between us as I sighed, not annoyed and neither tired, just feeling defeated when I chanced a glance at Mingi. He looked disappointed as he chewed on his bottom lip, shoulders hunched forward again as his bangs fell into his eyes, “Would you like me to come over for lunch if your grandma makes stew, Mingi?”

He stiffened, flinching slightly, but he wordlessly nodded slowly, looking at me through his eyelashes. I chuckled and nodded, feeling like we had just taken an immense step towards finding common ground again, towards reestablishing what we once had, “Alright, I’ll come over if you still want me to.”

“I will.” Mingi said hurriedly, I had barely finished talking, “I won’t change my mind.”

I felt my chest slowly warm up as my smile slightly faltered, forcefully ignoring the need to walk over and hug him, inhale his earthy scent and thank him for trying to mend our lost relationship. I nodded, eyes boring into his as Mingi nodded back, shifting on his feet as if he didn’t know what to say more or what to do next. But to his luck, Mrs. Song had just walked out of the kitchen, eyes widening in delight when she noticed her grandson, “Mingi! You’re back! Go wash up, you can take care of the duck afterwards.”

Mingi nodded and walked further inside the house, making sure to avoid touching me when he passed by me as I pressed myself up against the wall. I watched him press a quick kiss against his grandmother’s cheek and then disappear inside the kitchen before he raced up the stairs without looking back. Mrs. Song chuckled before she looked at me with a knowing look in her eyes, then pointed towards the bathroom, “Were you headed in there?”

“Yes, do you need anything?” I asked as I approached her, trying to stop my eyes from gazing up at the stairs as Mingi’s loud footsteps thudded against the floorboards as he entered his room, closing the door loudly.

“I will hang up the laundry, can you bring Mingi’s clothes up to him after you’ve washed the rag?” Mrs. Song had a sweet smile on her lips as I nodded, setting into motion as I headed inside the bathroom, “My knees are old, my dear, they don’t function as well as yours or my grandson’s…”

I heard Mrs. Song mutter to herself as I chuckled quietly, nearing the sink as I looked up, met with my reflection in the mirror up on the wall. I turned on the faucet without looking down, my eyes a dark colour but under the sunlight a blazing amber—if I believed what everyone has always told me—and my short hair was braided behind my ears as that’s how far I could actually braid the strands. The two ponytails that sat at my nape were small and sometimes managed to tickle me, but I didn’t mind them, the hairstyle was practical and looked cute. I didn’t like my hair getting in my eyes when I was working with my patients, and today had been a rather packed day at the Nursery before I could leave to help Mrs. Song out.

The water was warm against my skin as I rinsed the rag out, carefully hanging it on the side of the bathtub, eyes looking around the bathroom in search of Mingi’s freshly folded clothes. They were placed on top of a low stool behind the door and I went and grabbed them, fingers curling into the soft fabric of the shirt that was at the bottom of the pile. They smelled fresh, devoid of the earthy scent Mingi usually carried with himself, a tinge of citrus could be smelt in the fabric as I brought it up to my nose, taking a deep inhale. Realizing that what I was doing was probably inappropriate, I stopped myself and rolled my shoulders back, trying to stop the blush from spreading widely onto my cheeks.

Mrs. Song was outside in the back garden as I headed for the stairs, the double doors opened and the curtains fluttered as the wind blew inside, Mrs. Song’s pleasant singing voice carried by the wind made me smile. I carefully walked up the stairs, which were made of marble like the rest of the ground floor’s flooring, and was met with pictures hung on the wall of the Song family. There were some older ones, black and white, and some newer ones where Mingi was small and smiling widely as his parents held his hands, his mother’s smile a perfect replica of Mingi’s. Mingi was the perfect mixture of his parents’ traits, but he seemed to take slightly more after his father, who had the same small and sharp eyes as his son, his nose long and tall. I was familiar with the pictures, I’ve seen them numerous times in the Song’s old house, but it brought comfort seeing them once again. The Victor houses were devoid of colours and any life, they exuberated coldness and stripped the home of any cosiness. It felt nice to see Mrs. Song trying to bring it more life with the pictures, her favourite paintings that were family heirlooms and carpets that she and Mr. Song had inherited over the years, with flowers littered around every part of the house.

I knocked on Mingi’s door, his bedroom was the last in the hallway and faced towards the forest, unsurprisingly, but there was no answer. Trying again, not intending to intrude on his privacy, I knocked some more but there was still no answer. I grabbed the doorknob and whispered his name as I poked my head inside just a little, only to realise he wasn’t in the room. Eyes widening, I pushed the door further open and froze, taken aback by what I was seeing. I had never stepped foot inside Mingi’s bedroom ever since he moved inside this house, but upon one glance, it was a replica of his old bedroom. Even the way his things were positioned was the same, his furniture the same, the only difference being the white walls while in his old bedroom, they were grey and the paint was chapped, falling off in some places. It smelled like musk and something citrusy inside, perhaps oranges, as I let the door close behind me, a single lamp lit on his desk despite it being daytime. His blackout curtains were drawn together, but based on the volume of the birds chirping, I could tell the windows were open. Walking further inside, I noticed a small notebook opened on top of his desk, a pencil on the floor and the beginning of a sketch that looked an awful lot like the meadow.

There was a thud behind me and as I turned around, I just realized there was a door inside the room, closed but light flooded out from underneath it. Deciding to place the clothes on Mingi’s bed, I took off towards it just as the door opened and warm steam wafted outside of it. Freezing, I opened my mouth to quickly explain myself but was caught off guard by what I saw. Mingi, still oblivious to my presence fumbled with the light switch as he stepped outside of the joint bathroom, hair dripping wet and torso bare as a black towel hung low on his hips. His cheeks were flushed and the water from his hair dropped to his wide shoulders, quickly trailing down his broad chest, between his pecks until they disappeared into the towel. The beginning of a happy trail started just where the towel concealed his lower body and I gasped, turning my head away when I felt my whole face on fire.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were showering!” My voice was high-pitched, flustered and sounded embarrassed too, “Your grandmother asked me to bring up your clothes and I—I knocked, I really did but you didn’t answer and I—I’m sorry. I really am, I’ll go, I just—”

My heart was beating so fast and loud, I was sure Mingi could hear it too in the silence that followed my frantic explanation, hands slightly shaking as I placed the pile of clothes on his bed, clumsily knocking some over. Letting out a frustrated huff, I fumbled around as I grabbed them, folding them again as I tried to ignore Mingi’s frozen form in the room, dark eyes trained on my body, watching me wordlessly.

“You can leave them, I have to put them away either way.” Mingi’s voice was deep, tone light despite our predicament. I gulped and stopped, closing my eyes as I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves before I stood up straight, letting go of the short-sleeved white shirt I was about to fold.

“I’m sorry.” I apologized again, keeping my eyes glued to the floorboards, “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know.” It was unlike Mingi to cut me off, especially with so much understanding in his voice. He hadn’t talked to me like that since the Games, he hadn’t kept his eyes so insistently on me ever since the Games. My cheeks were still burning, not because I caught Mingi half-naked, but instead because he wasn’t looking away, he was trying to catch my gaze as he lowered his eyes, “Thank you.”

My muscles became tense, eyebrows slightly furrowing as I licked my lips, not quite understanding what he was saying thank you for so earnestly. I hadn’t done anything of great importance, I just merely brought his clothes up for him because his grandmother was old and probably struggled scaling the stairs so many times a day. Willing myself to look up, to tell him that he didn’t have to thank me for something so simple, the words got stuck in my throat as we made eye contact. His face looked relaxed, wet strands falling onto his forehead in a way that didn’t obscure his vision and he wasn’t hyperventilating and neither looking uncomfortable. I gulped, opening my mouth to say something, but my eyes slipped and landed on his left arm where a big red gash stood out strikingly against his tan complex. My eyebrows furrowed as I continued looking at it, and when Mingi realized, he hid his arm behind his back.

“When did you get that?” I asked, concern lacing my voice.

“Yesterday.” Mingi’s answer was short, voice once again void of any emotion.

“Did you treat it?”

“Washed it with warm water.”

“That’s not good enough,” I muttered, eyebrows furrowing in worry as I looked back up at him, “you need to disinfect it and put ointment on it, you should also probably wrap it up with gauze too.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve survived worse.” I knew he didn’t mean to sound so aggressive as he said that because he flinched, his right hand balling up into a fist as he averted his eyes, turning his head to the side.

“I know,” I whispered, but I wasn’t about to let him walk around with a fresh cut, “but you need to treat that. I’ll be right back.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to—” But I was out the door before he could finish his sentence, hurrying down the long hallway and then skipping down the stairs as Mrs. Song remained outside, now sitting in a chair as she watched the bees that flew onto the flowers in her garden, a content smile on her lips. I rushed towards the downstairs bathroom and opened the cabinet above the bathtub, grabbing the distilled water, saline solution, a soothing ointment I learned how to make from my sister, and some gauze. As I left the bathroom and raced back up the stairs, I heard the front door opening, meaning that Mr. Song had also returned home. In my rush to get back to Mingi and treat his fresh wound, I forgot to knock to warn him that I was heading in, but thankfully he was fully dressed and sitting on his bed, left leg bent while the right one hung off the side of the bed. He looked up alarmed as I heaved a sigh, closing the door behind me and placing everything on the bed in front of Mingi as I neared him.

“May I wash my hands in your bathroom?” Mingi didn’t hesitate to nod and I quickly went inside and washed my hands thoroughly with soap, letting them dry on their own as I walked back inside his room, pulling the bathroom door closed with my foot. Mingi watched me, neck craned as I stopped next to him staring down at the bed as I debated whether I should ask him to turn around or sit opposite him. Deciding that he looked comfortable and I didn’t want to bother him, I got on the bed across from him, sitting on my knees as I lowered myself on my legs, looking down at the solutions I brought, “May I see the wound?”

Mingi froze for a second, but he didn’t stall for long as he extended his arm, shuffling closer when he realized we sat too far from each other. He gulped, loudly, but I ignored it as I grabbed his arm and pulled it towards my lap, eyebrows furrowing as I inspected it. The skin wasn’t red around it, thankfully, but the wound seemed rather irritated. I looked at him for a brief second, surprised to find Mingi looking at me intensely, “May I touch you?”

“Yes.” His voice was low and raspy as he answered, and he tensed when I hummed, looking back down at the wound. I sighed and gently traced the skin around the wound, making sure there were no bumps or smaller cuts before I grabbed some gauze and poured distilled water on it. Mingi helped me uncap the bottle and then held it for me as I placed his arm back in my lap, gently tapping the gauze on the wound, knowing that it probably wouldn’t hurt him. He remained silent and I didn’t speak up despite wanting to ask questions about how he got this wound, I just handed him back the lid and he lidded the bottle before putting it aside.

“This might sting a bit,” I warned him as I grabbed the saline solution and opened the bottle, pausing to look at him, “did the soap sting?”

“Yeah, yesterday,” Mingi mumbled and looked away, lowering his head as his shoulders were hunched forward. His hair was damp, but at least water wasn’t dripping everywhere from it anymore. He wore fluffy trousers and a white t-shirt which was a bit tight and clung to his body, enunciating his scrawny but broad form. I hummed and tapped his wrist to warn him that I would pour the saline solution on the open wound now, which thankfully didn’t need stitches as it wasn’t deep enough. The muscles of Mingi’s arm tensed when the solution reached his wound, but he made no sounds. I made sure to pour only as much as was needed to disinfect the wound and glanced up at him, finding his jaw clenched and nose scrunched up as he stared down at his lap. Closing the saline solution bottle, I grabbed a clean gauze and folded it so that I could tap it against his skin. We remained silent as I worked slowly and carefully, not wanting to cause more discomfort. I felt Mingi’s eyes on me when I placed the bottles aside and grabbed the small can, my hand falling next to his as I paused.

“This won’t sting, it’ll help ease any discomfort and soothe the burn.” I informed him and then opened the can, taking a copious amount of ointment on my fingers before I started rubbing it into the wound, not pressing it too much as I knew it would hurt, “You should use this three times a day until it fades into a scar, and if you go hunting, you should wrap it up with gauze for some extra protection. If anything gets into it, it might get infected. I should check up on it in two weeks, but if it starts bothering you in any way, let me know as fast as possible, okay?”

I looked at Mingi with raised eyebrows and he nodded wordlessly as I sighed, glad that I could help. I closed the small can and placed it next to his knee so that he’d put it away somewhere where it was close by, and prepared to grab the dirty gauze and bottles, when long and thick fingers curled around my right wrist, halting my movements. I froze, staring ahead at Mingi’s chest as it was rising and falling rhythmically. His head was still lowered, eyes obscured as his big hand felt cold against my skin, the hold gentle and not bruising.

“Thank you.” I smiled and nodded with a hum, letting my eyes rest on his face, which he was trying to hide.

“Of course, Mingi.” But maybe I said something wrong because his head snapped up, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes searched mine, lips pursed as he looked confused and even annoyed.

“Why are you so nice to me, Y/N?” He asked, voice shaking as his fingers uncurled from my wrist, dropping down between us, accidentally brushing against my knee.

“Because you deserve kindness,” I wanted Mingi to understand that he wasn’t different than anyone else, that he was a person who deserved to be treated well and with love and tenderness, “Because you’re a human being with feelings and thoughts and struggles just like everyone else. You don’t deserve to be treated badly for what you were forced to do, everyone would’ve done the same if they were in your place, Mingi. You’re gentle and compassionate, you’re easily spooked and you’re clumsy despite being tall and strong, you listen to others and you help them. You’re kind and you’re a good person despite what others might think and say now about you. You’ve always picked me up when I fell, you never laughed when I didn’t know something, you waited for me when nobody else did, and you never seemed to forget about me when everyone else did.”

My breath hitched in my throat when Mingi’s hand raised, warm and hesitant as it cupped my right cheek, his fingers burning my skin as I continued speaking, “I’m not scared of you Mingi, you’ll always be the shy little boy to me who carried me on his back when my feet started hurting and pulled on my hair when I threatened to fall asleep in classes. Nothing will change that, not even you pushing me away.”

I watched as Mingi’s eyes got teary, his bottom lip shaking as his hand fell from my cheek, making me miss his warmth as I almost grabbed onto his hand to press it back against my skin, yearning for his touch. But he only hunched more into himself, shoulders shaking, and I knew he wanted to be alone, with nobody to see him as he became vulnerable and emotional. Gathering the things I brought with myself beside the ointment, I left the room, leaving him alone to mule over the words I had said to me.

I could only hope he would start believing them

            And maybe my words did get through to him because the next time the two of us were out in the forest to hunt, we ran into each other and instead of him running away like always, he stopped walking and waited for me to reach him. He was just about to jump over the fence when he glanced over his shoulder and spotted my approaching form. I smiled widely at him and waved as I hurried my steps, holding onto the bow that was around my shoulders, ten arrows sitting in the holster by my hip. Mingi’s bow was around his shoulders too, but his holster was next to it instead of it being on his hip, and he wore his green jacket and black-coloured pants. It was a sunny day today, so I didn’t wear my usual hunting gear, just a light blouse that had to be laced up at the chest and trousers that once belonged to my sister.

“Hello, Y/N.” I froze when I heard him greet me, usually not being the first one to acknowledge my existence. My smile became wider as I had to look up at him, shielding my eyes with a hand as the sun shone down on us brightly.

“Mingi, hi!” My tone was laced with enthusiasm, and despite Mingi not smiling, I could tell by his expression that he wasn’t in a displeased mood, “Did you just arrive?”

“Yes, I planned to hunt for a few hours today, it’s too warm to sit by the house.” It was a long sentence, a longer answer, something that hadn’t happened in a long time. I tried to tell my racing heart to calm down, to savour the moment while it lasted. In his eyes, which were lighter under the bright sunlight, I recognized the spark which was always present in the Mingi before he left for the Games.

“I agree, it’s even worse further into the District,” I nodded and grabbed the fence, “Would you…like to hunt with me?”

It was a bold offer, I knew it could sour Mingi’s mood rather quickly, but I could only hope he wouldn’t turn me down. I missed hunting with someone, I missed the dynamic that came when you had someone next to you, how much more silent you needed to be, more careful and more vigilant. I used to hunt with my sister almost daily, we’d sneak out when our parents were busy and would only return by nightfall. Once, we ventured further into the forest, far from the meadow, and discovered that there was a small but beautiful lake an hour away. We rarely went out there, out of fear of the Capitol watching over it, but I cherished the memories we shared there with my sister.

“Yes, we could hunt together.” Mingi’s answer was unexpected, and my eyes widened as I looked up at him, trying to read his expression but it didn’t say much. He nodded more to himself before he gripped the fence and pulled himself up halfway, jumping over it and landing with precision, it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d done it. Knowing that I’d never be able to jump over it, I crouched and pulled on the fence just underneath the sign that warned us of high voltage, creating a gap where I could go through. Mingi watched with surprise as I came up next to him, pushing the fence back so that it wouldn’t be visible that there was a passageway.

“Was that always there?” Mingi asked amazed, still looking at the fence as I readjusted my blouse.

“Yes,” I said with a chuckle, taking off towards the trees, “I’m too short to jump over the fence, did you think I did the same as you to get out?”

“Yes?” Mingi asked as he averted his eyes, cheeks dusted pink as he made me chuckle. I bumped my shoulder into his as we walked further inside the forest, covered by the shade of trees which brought me instant relief as sweat had broken out on my forehead and temples. I patted them off with the sleeve of my blouse and grabbed onto my belt as we walked around bushes and stepped over fallen logs, hiding behind a boulder as we spotted a deer. Our breaths were synchronised as Mingi and I peeked out above the boulder, watching the pretty deer as it remained oblivious to our presence. Mingi’s fingers tightened around his bow as he exhaled, and I turned my head to watch him curiously. We had to remain silent in order not to alert our prey, but I couldn't help myself.

“Will you claim it?” I whispered, the sound quiet as Mingi took his bottom lip between his teeth, his head turning. Our faces were close as he exhaled, the warm air brushing against my cheeks, but he shook his head.

“I don’t hunt deer anymore, they are too beautiful,” Mingi answered, voice less cautious as the deer’s head snapped up and looked around, aware that it wasn’t alone anymore. I didn’t say anything for a second, just savoured our closeness and Mingi’s musky scent combined with the earth around us, as our eyes bore into each other. I hummed and faced the deer at last, watching as it continued eating once it decided that it wasn’t in danger.

“Should we head further in, then?” I raised an eyebrow, a friendly smile settling on my lips, “Find the wild ducks?”

Mingi and I made brief eye contact as he nodded, and then we both straightened up and stepped around the boulder, alerting the deer and making it run off in fright. My eyes followed it, remembering the one time my sister ruthlessly hunted down one of them, telling me that an animal was a source of food no matter how pretty as I started crying while I watched it die. I didn’t join my sister for a week after that incident, and I felt warmness spread through my chest that now I knew Mingi didn’t like hunting them either. Wild ducks were a little bit easier to hunt, at the beginning I wasn’t keen on capturing them, but famish was horrible and it made us do things we didn’t want to.

I followed after Mingi in silence as he jumped over rocks and logs, navigating his way around the forest as if it was his second home—which it might’ve been at this point—watching closely the way he moved, the way he carried himself. His shoulders were pulled back and his back was straight, he moved with elegance and confidence as he pushed the branches of a tree to the side, waiting for me and holding it for me as well. His muscles weren’t too tense and he seemed to be at ease as a small smile played at his lips, probably subconsciously, as his sharp eyes surveyed the place every other minute, looking for the wild ducks but also to spot any other possible prey. A red fox jumped in front of us and made me gasp as I didn’t expect it, and once Mingi’s initial shock was gone and he lowered the protective arm he’d put in front of me, he grinned at the fox and stomped his foot once, making it run off. I curled my palms into fists when our knuckles brushed together as we walked side by side, trying to fight the urge to hold onto his hand and intertwine our fingers. I missed holding his big hands, feeling their callousness and the few silver rings he wore dig into my skin.

Mingi slowed his steps when he spotted the wild ducks and I made sure to remain quiet as I watched mine too. He motioned behind a tree and we lowered ourselves behind it, peeking out at the ducks from both sides of the trunk. Mingi faced me with a questioning expression and I nodded once as I moved slowly and silently, taking my bow and an arrow as I hooked it, getting in a better position to pull it back. Mingi watched me closely as my muscles tensed and my arm pulled even further back, lips brushing against the arrow as Mingi hummed once, throwing a pebble to make the ducks fly off. I sprung up and locked onto my prey, letting go of the arrow at once as we watched it shoot straight at a wild duck, hitting it and making it fall onto the forest ground. My heart was beating fast, making my body warm as my blood flowed faster, cheeks tinged red as I smiled widely, pulling another arrow to shoot another duck that wasn’t spooked and remained behind. I hit that one too, and wondered when Mingi would shoot his own shot, but when my head turned to look at him, he was frozen and his eyes were wide. His knuckles were white as he had grabbed onto the tree tightly, breathing faster than before.

Realizing that something wasn’t right, I lowered my bow and scootched closer to him, “Mingi?”

My voice was quiet and cautious as Mingi mumbled to himself, seemingly stuck somewhere inside his mind as his body shivered, “No.”

I realized he was having a flashback when he gasped loudly and stood up straight abruptly, shaking his head more feverishly, “No! Stop, no!”

I let my bow fall to the ground as I stepped closer, trying to stabilize my breaths, “Mingi, focus on me. Listen to my voice—”

“No, she’s dead!” He screamed, voice raw and raspy as he faced me frantically, his body shaking, “I—the arrow—I killed her, she’s—she’s bleeding, I—”

“Mingi!” My tone was higher as I grabbed his wrist tightly and stared up into his eyes, “Snap out of it, it’s not real. We’re in the forest—”

“No, I killed her. She’s dead, you—you are dead, I—” Mingi gasped loudly and tried to yank his wrist free, but I grabbed onto his arms and yanked him closer to myself, forcing him to remain by my side.

“I’m not her.” My voice was harsh, eyebrows furrowed, “It’s me, Y/N, we’re back in District 12, in the forest, hunting. It was a wild duck, Mingi.”

It took him a few seconds to realize I was saying the truth, that the face which was talking to him wasn’t that of my dead twin sister’s, but of the girl he left behind when he left for the Games, the girl who he abandoned when he returned, “Mingi.”

“Why?” His voice was shaky and he suddenly stepped closer, all up in my personal space. I had to crane my neck back to look up at him, “Why are you doing this? Why are you still here? Why do you talk to me? Why don’t you hate me? Why don’t you—just kill me?!”

His tone rose with each desperate question, his bottom lip shaking as his eyes filled with tears, his chest rising and falling rapidly, “What do you want from me? Just let me—hate me, Y/N, shun me away, scream at me and slap me, I—I don’t deserve any kindness. I don’t deserve you anymore, I’m a monster. I’m a criminal, I murdered her, I shot the arrow straight through her heart. I have no future, I’m a nobody, I don’t deserve to be alive, why are you still with me?!”

“Mingi!” I screamed, making him flinch as I shook his hands off my arms and cupped his cheeks instead, pulling his head down to be eye level with me, “Look me in the eyes, Mingi.”

But he didn’t, he looked at the ground and shook his head, sniffing loudly as my jaw clenched, “Look me in the eyes, I said, Song Mingi.”

I had never spoken to him harshly, I had never demanded anything of him before, and upon hearing my tone and words, his eyes snapped up, wide and shaking, “Look at me. My eyes are dark, just like yours, hers were light like the sky during the day. My hair is short and wavy, hers was long and straight, always in a perfect bun while mine is almost impossible to tame. I’m tall, she was shorter and always complained about it. My voice is higher-pitched and warmer, more comforting, hers was raspy and always demanding, always ordering something. We smell different, she loved flowers and smelled like them, and I hate flowers and would rather cover myself in mud than smell like it. My body is covered in moles and hers barely had three, all on her face meanwhile mine has none. I like to read about nature and birdwatch as well as stargaze and braid hair, she hated reading and she only watched the night sky because she knew I loved it, she never braided her hair because the strands were too thin and would constantly fall out. I want to heal and help people because I love our humanity and I’m conscious that we are here one day and the next maybe not, she wanted to heal people because it made her feel like she had control over life, because she never got to control her own life, Mingi.

“She was mean to you and she didn’t like you, she pushed you around and made fun of you whenever she could. I never did, I always wanted to be by your side, I wanted to talk to you and listen to your stories, I wanted to shield you from her harsh words. You wanted to dance with her, but she always refused, so I took her place hoping it’d make you happy since I looked like her, I hoped you’d be able to imagine it was her and not me. I help your grandparents because I want to and because I care about them, not because our parents sent us over to your house to help you out, I didn’t do it because I knew our mother would buy us new dresses. I don’t want to see you in pain and agony over having killed my twin sister, Mingi, I have never hated you for it, and I have never resented you for what you had done, so please, stop seeing her in me and look at me. See me, Mingi, please.”

Mingi was crying by the time I was done talking, his body shaking as he forced his eyes shut, his tears wetting my hands as I rubbed the skin under his eyes as his arms no longer lay limply by his side but circled my waist and pulled me into him, embracing me in a tight hug as I let him burry his head in my neck, heart-wrenching sobs leaving his mouth as I ran my fingers through his smooth hair, allowing him to let out all the grief and pain he’s felt and tried to push down.

“I forgive you, Mingi,” I said it because I knew it was what he needed to hear and not because he had anything to be forgiven for, “for everything.”

He nodded his head frantically as he continued crying, fingers digging into my blouse desperately as his loud sobs echoed around us, a few Mockingjays picking up on it and carrying it further inside the forest. I hugged him closer to my body when his muscles started easing up and I massaged his scalp when his sobs started vanning, hiccups and sniffing following it, tight embrace turning into comfortable body warmth that screamed out for companionship.

And I knew he’d get better, he was strong, and he was no pawn of the Capitol.

2 months later

            The sun had lost some of its warmth now that autumn was approaching and I didn’t feel ready to let go of the lush green scenery, of the forest that brought such huge refuge and safety. The meadow was full of blooming colours, of flowers that made me sneeze, of bees that were loud and made Mingi jump every time they flew past him. I had my eyes closed as I played with the petal of a Musk Mallow, the person lying next to me fidgeting every few seconds as he was afraid of bugs. I had a smile on my face as he finally sighed and gave up, sitting up as he pulled his knees into his chest. The Reaping was tomorrow, the Peacekeepers were getting the square ready, and the train bringing the Capitol people would arrive tomorrow. Effie Trinket would act like picking a boy and girl for the Games was normal and Haymitch would be probably black-out drunk while Mingi would stand on the podium shaking and looking sickly pale.

“I’m scared.” As if hearing my thoughts, he whispered, “I’m not ready to return, I don’t want to go back, Y/N.”

“They will never make you go back into the Games.” I tried to remind him.

“I know, I just can’t watch a child I know attempt to train for something that will lead to their dismay.” Mingi’s voice was defeated as I blinked my eyes open, raising my hand to shield them from the sun.

“Perhaps District 12 will have another Victor, Mingi, have more faith in them.” I tried to sound encouraging, but I knew it was of no use. Mingi and my sister got reaped when they were eighteen, what was supposed to be their last year participating in the Reaping. The odds were rarely in our favour.

“I can’t be a mentor, it’s too soon.” Mingi pressed his forehead against his knees, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. I sighed and followed him, sitting up as I pulled something out of my pocket.

“You’ll be fine, you won’t be alone and you’ll be a good mentor, Mingi.” I said with an encouraging smile as he turned his head to look at me, “They won’t hurt you at the Capitol, they can’t. Remember, you are your own master and you can’t let President Snow get inside your head. You did well when they came to take the interview all those months ago, you’ll be able to ace this too. I believe in you, Mingi.”

He bit his bottom lip, eyes searching my face before they settled on my own, our gazes boring together as I looked down at my hands, playing with the single pearl on the bracelet. Taking a deep breath, I looked back up at Mingi and smiled at him softly, extending my hand with the bracelet towards him, “For you, as a token of good luck and trust, because I trust you and I—I’ll be here, home, waiting for you to return to me, Mingi.”

Gaze softening as he straightened up, he took the bracelet from me, his warm fingers grazing my palm as they curled around the bracelet, a small happy smile spreading onto his lips. He looked at it for another long moment, inspecting the pearl just like I had done after I brought it home, and then he looked up again, turning his head to face me. His voice was barely a whisper, “I’ll miss you, Y/N, so much.”

I smiled and released a quiet breath as Mingi leaned closer, supporting himself with a hand as my eyes fluttered closed, his plump lips hovering just for a second before they pressed against mine firmly. They were warm and not as chapped as they usually were since I had made him an ointment to use, and they were soft and tasted of the chamomile tea his grandmother made us drink before we headed for the meadow. I kissed back with passion, hoping it would convey all the unspoken things, all the words I wasn’t able to say yet, but would say when the timing was right. His kisses were always careful and gentle, like him, hesitant until his brain registered that I wanted him just as much as he wanted me, only becoming firm and demanding when he couldn’t withhold himself anymore. I smiled as we pulled back, our lips making a funny sound when Mingi chased after mine and pressed a loud quick kiss against them again, making himself blush and giggle as he turned his head, gazing out towards the trees and shade.

“I’ll take care of your grandparents in your absence,” I promised as I offered him my hand, heart leaping in my chest when his longer and thicker fingers slipped between mine, intertwining with confidence and conviction.

“Thank you, they’ll probably ask you to sleep over sometimes.” Mingi said, his thumb rubbing my knuckle as I squeezed his hand, “They don’t like the quiet when it’s just the two of them.”

“I’ll make sure to spend the night from time to time,” I promised again with a smile on my lips as Mingi and I glanced at each other, settling into a comfortable silence as I helped him wear the bracelet before we scooted closer to each other, hands still intertwined and gazing forward at the serene nature, the deer that played around oblivious to our presence, the leaves that were moved by the wind.

There were days when things were harder to cope with, when Mingi couldn’t get out of bed and when he didn’t want to see anyone, but there were days when Mingi couldn’t stop laughing, when he cradled me against his chest and told me he loved me, when he promised to marry me if our world miraculously changed for the better. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to remain by his side, that we’d both be faced with challenges and hardships, judged by our people and by the Capitol, but we didn’t care. Something that we both loved and cherished had been ripped from us by tyrants, my sister and his innocence, we’d stop bowing down to the pressure to live a life that we didn’t want.

And, sometime in the near future, we both knew that dire days were coming before a bright and free future,

“And the Tributes from District 12 of the 74th Hunger Games are…Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!” ~ Suzanne Collins

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[manonssunset]

"COSA NUESTRA"

pairing: kim minjeong x fem!reader

synopsis: minjeong, a regular like you at the jazz lounge, decided to challenge you, unaware of what was about to unfold.

part 1 ○ part 2 [coming soon]

warnings/tags: language, suggestive, the story takes place in 1978, ending hints at nsfw content, minjeong is wearing the same outfit as the photo, heavy sexual tension, reader is kinda nonchalant help

wc: +2,5k

now playing: cosa nuestra - rauw alejandro

a/n: I was heavily inspired by my man's new album, I literally fell in love with the retro/1970 vibes, and also, minjeong in that outfit made me lose my mind. in this fic, I describe pool dynamics using specific terms. if you need some clarifications, I made a post with what everything means.

The warmth of the lounge atmosphere was a great contrast to the typical november cold weather, an atmosphere you were quite used to: young beautiful women dancing to the band’s jazz melodies, swaying their bodies to the rhythm, their partners chattering and laughing while clouding the room up with a thin layer of smoke. you passed the pool tables, the unmistakable sound of the billiard balls colliding and cristal glass clinking filling the air. you slid through the crowd and found your way to the bar, taking a seat on one of the black leather stools. 

“excuse me, could you pass me the newspaper ma'am?” you requested the gentlewoman sitting beside you, noticing the pile of papers stacked neatly in front of her. saying she was beautiful was an understatement, she looked sharp in the suit she was wearing, her tie perfectly knotted, and her vest hugged her waist deliciously. she was a regular just like you, you’d seen her before, but you’d always kept your distance, never quite summoning the courage to strike up a conversation.

she turned towards you, offering a timid smile. a shade of pink colored her cheeks, probably caused by the alcoholic liquid she was drinking. she answered “absolutely, here you go, ma'am”, extending the arm that wasn't holding the glass to grab the newspaper and handing it to you. your eyes met each other, and it felt like a spark had just been ignited between the two. 

“thank you so much.” you thanked her, smiling back. your heart beating faster, this was your opportunity to get to know her, you had to quickly think about something else to say before the conversation could end. 

“it's my pleasure,” she said softly, fixing a strand of hair behind her ear. “the pleasure is mine… may I ask your name, madam? it's not the first time I've seen you here.” you didn't know where this confidence came from but you sighed in relief when her face cutely lit up at the sudden question, her already pink cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. 

“no I don't mind, it's minjeong, nice to meet you.” she replied, shaking your hand, the soft grip lingering longer than expected, leaving you wanting more. you greeted her back, introducing yourself, settling into a comfortable conversation with the girl, getting to know each other, the newspaper long forgotten. 

“I've seen you play pool before, you're good, but I don't think you can beat me.” she suddenly challenged you, a smirk appearing on her face as she eyed you expectantly, knowing that you wouldn't let someone you just met belittle your skills like that.

“oh, you think you can beat me ma'am?” she was still giggling and repeating herself, stating that she was indeed able to win against you.

a wicked idea formed into your mind, you chuckled slightly before speaking “okay, since you're so sure you can defeat me, let’s make a deal. if you win, I'll let you do whatever you want to me, if you don't, it's the other way around, huh?”. when she grasped what you were insinuating, the face minjeong made was priceless, her smile suddenly dropped and her teasing demeanor quickly faded. you caught with your peripheral view her thighs press tightly together, sensing her newfound feeling of mixed fear and excitement. “s-sure,” she slightly stuttered.

as you two stood up to move to one of the pool tables, you realized how tiny minjeong was, not that you were the tallest or the most muscular but she just looked so easy to manhandle. and, unsurprisingly, you weren’t the only one affected by the size difference, the other girl unconsciously gulped when she had to look up to meet your gaze. “how do we determine who breaks?” she asked, grabbing a cue from the stand.

“well, since you decided to challenge me, I think it’s fair if you start, don’t you agree?” you responded, sliding your long black coat off your shoulders, hanging it to the wall, remaining in your three-piece suit. as you grabbed a cue and the triangle to rack the balls, minjeong nodded affirmatively, her eyes following your every move, exhaling through her nose and mentally preparing herself before starting the match.       

you watched her get in position, sliding the cue between her fingers, hand placed on the table, aiming at the center, taking a deep breath and shooting. a loud thud was heard and the colorful balls started rolling around on the play field, bouncing on the bumpers. it was an impressive start, she managed to pot three striped balls, the decision of the group a predictable and easy task, the advantage she had was clear.

however, that was what an inexperienced person would have thought, minjeong being the example. a more acute observation would have made her realize that choosing to pot another striped ball was going to be her downfall. sure, she was in the lead with only three balls left to pot, meanwhile you still had all seven, but the disposition made reaching the remaining spheres almost impossible. you couldn't help but smile to yourself seeing her concerned face as she realized the challenging situation she had put herself into. 

minjeong adjusted her stance, her brows furrowing in concentration. she leaned over the table, eyes narrowing as she calculated the angle. The cue hovered over the white ball, but she hesitated. her fingers trembled slightly, and she repositioned herself, then again, a growing uncertainty flickering in her movements. a bead of sweat gathered at her temple. the tension in her posture deepened. you could sense the change, the pressure of the game was getting to her. every small shift in her stance seemed to reflect her internal struggle.

you stayed silent for a moment, giving her space to gather herself, but there was something about her now: a vulnerability that had crept into her demeanor. you knew she needed help, not just with the shot but with her growing unease. you took a slow step toward her, feeling the tension between you both build in the air.

you stood behind her, close enough that she could feel your presence, yet still leaving to her the decision to close the distance. minjeong didn’t move at first, but you could tell she was aware of you, her posture slightly stiff as if unsure how to react. then, without asking, you gently placed a hand on her waist, guiding her to shift just a fraction. the contact was light but intentional, enough to make her freeze for a moment.

“let me help,” you said quietly, your voice calm, almost reassuring. there was no force in your words, just a quiet offer. minjeong took a breath, the smallest of nods acknowledging your proximity. her hesitation remained, but she didn’t pull away. as you moved your hand to gently adjust her wrist, you could feel the heat of her skin under your touch. it was subtle, but the way her body first tensed, then relaxed ever so slightly, was telling. you could feel her breath quicken, though she tried to keep it steady. 

"you know that it’s impossible for you not to foul with this layout?” you murmured, your voice low, just above a whisper. “you’re overthinking it. relax a little.” your hand on her waist shifted ever so slightly, guiding her posture, your touch light but firm enough to reassure her that you were there to steady her.

minjeong let out a small breath, her body shifting as you gently moved her hand into a more natural position. the proximity between you felt charged, the space between you both compressed with an electric tension. she didn’t pull away, even though there was a shift in the air, an unspoken awareness between you both.

"if you aim like this, you can at least pot one of your balls, you’re still going to hit one of mine but better that nothing, right?" you added softly, your voice almost a reassurance just for her. she nodded in agreement, her fingers tightened slightly on the cue, but now it felt more controlled, less uncertain. her breath steadied as she prepared for the shot. with a final, silent breath, minjeong lined up her shot once more, her body moving fluidly as she struck. the ball, as you predicted, hit one of yours but thanks to your help she was still able to pot one of hers.

now it was your time to shine, you loosen up your neck and back, grabbed your cue and got into position, aiming, shooting and changing posture repeatedly. the balls were rapidly going in one by one, you used some tricks, showing off your skills you acquired over time. potting the first six balls had been quite easy, the real challenge was the last one, you were having the opposite problem that minjeong had, one of her striped spheres was in the way to pot your seventh. the only way to escape this situation, was to try a complicated shot.

you bent over the table, aimed, calibrated the strength you would need, and forcefully shot. your eyes fixed on the ball, following its movements, hoping for the best. the trick had worked, your ball hadn’t collided with minjeong’s one, running to the other side of the table, getting closer and closer to the pocket. you were ready to celebrate when the ball started to slow down and stopped right before falling in. “damn it! It was so close!” you exclaimed, disappointed in yourself.

the other girl, who had been attentively watching you play, walked over to you and gently lifted her arm to pat your shoulder as a sign of sympathy. “don’t feel sad for one bad shot, you did amazing until now,” she reassured you, a warm feeling spread through your body making you blush. “thank you minjeong, I really appreciate it,” you replied, caressing her arm back to show gratitude. you saw her cheeks redden when she heard you say her name, averting her gaze and softly smiling. 

you were now taking in the fact that minjeong was probably going to win, it was easy, you cleared the table for her, she just needed to do some simple shots to succeed. and that's exactly what she was doing, potting her last two balls before aiming for her victory. you were observing from the other side, apprehensive of your evident losing condition, resting your chin on your hands that held the cue vertically. 

but when everything seemed to be already written, the unpredictable happened: yes minjeong did indeed pot the eight ball, but she also potted the cue ball, automatically making you the winner of the match.

as the game came to its unexpected end, a grin stretched across your face. you couldn’t help it: there was something intoxicating about this power shift. minjeong’s bright eyes flickered with frustration, then embarrassment, and the slightest hint of disbelief. she had lost. the moment was almost cinematic, the dim lighting casting a golden hue over her features. she looked... entranced, still processing the outcome.

her gaze was fixed on you, lips slightly parted. you could see the vulnerability beneath the surface. her hands hung loosely by her sides, but you could feel the tension radiating from her, like a pull between the two of you, a magnetic force that neither of you could deny. as you moved closer, her breath caught, and her body stiffened, but there was something else now: a faint glimmer of anticipation in her eyes. she bit her lip, her pupils dilating as your face came nearer.

you paused, contemplating your next move, her eyes were begging for proximity, flickering between your lips and your gaze, a slight tension building up in her shoulder as if she was anticipating your touch. her body leaned your way as a silent welcoming sign, and you took it, cupping her face gently, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your palms. the hum of conversation and laughter around you seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a bubble. her breath quickened. “relax, minjeong,” you murmured, your voice low, comforting, and commanding all at once. “it’s going to feel good.”

you took a deep breath, you were engulfed in the sweet scent she emanated, surely not a cheap perfume. the richness of the jasmine mixed with vanilla acting as an invisible thread that pulled you in every time she was near, a fragrance you’d come to associate with her. minjeong’s eyes narrowed, hesitation made clear by her parted lips, mouth muscles slightly twitching as she was trying to say something, but was too scared to. should she risk it all like this? her heartbeat louder as it echoed in her chest.  

a beat passed before she found the courage to whisper, almost too quietly to hear, “can you kiss me... please?” her hands, trembling slightly, found their way to your waist, pulling you in. the uncertainty in her voice made the request all the more enticing. she wanted it. she needed it. you could feel the weight of that simple plea hanging between you, thick with unspoken desire. 

you sensed some unwelcome eyes turning your way, a few lingering glances that had you unconsciously tighten the grip on her face in possessiveness, wondering if it was the right thing to continue right there. the bubble that you were both in had dissolved just for a second, you were now hyper aware of your surroundings, the laughing and clinking had become an unwanted intrusion to your intimate moment. your attention swinged back to her face, your furrowed brows trying to communicate your discomfort non-verbally to the other girl.     

you hesitated before speaking “in front of everybody? don’t you think it’s a little… dangerous?”, the question hung in the air, your voice barely above a whisper, as if you were giving her a moment to decide. she glanced around, eyes darting from yours to scan person per person, the idea of kissing you in front of so many people was suddenly very real. minjeong’s gaze flickered back to yours, a blush crept up her neck, she let out a soft laugh, more of a nervous exhale than anything else. her lips remained parted, but no words came out, just a soft hum of uncertainty. 

that was the telltale sign that your feelings were mutual. you then let go of her cheeks, you gently placed your hand on top of hers, taking her arm, fingers curling around her delicate skin. the soft warmth of her pulse under your touch was a subtle reminder of how close she was. “let’s go to the bathrooms, it’s more secluded.” you speak in a low and controlled voice, keeping the whispery connotation of your last conversation. you let the words linger just enough to make minjeong feel a heat spread through her body, making her wonder what exactly you meant by “more secluded”. 

her train of thoughts interrupted by a graceful pull on her arm, with every step you took, you drew her closer to the promise of something more. she followed without thinking, her feet moving on their own, a warm tension building within her with each step, her pulse quickening as the distance between you two seemed to shrink, leaving her breathless with anticipation.

a/n: part 2 will come out soon... 👀

[archie-sunshine]

A Year in Review

SO ITS BEEN A LONNNNG YEAR! a very very long year, but a lovely year and a very precious year!!! I feel like because of how big a year its been, we need a recap of everything that happened, and everything that this platform has allowed me to achieve!!

SO LETS START WITH JANUARY!!

I was still in school during this month, so I didn't get to draw as much as i wanted, but i wrote a ton!! I published chapters of Survey Says, Rehab/Cohab, and also the seminal work of fiction that is Positive Reinforcement! I want to celebrate how much writing i got done, especially with how that's taken a back seat on my blog for a while now!!

In february I got more time to focus on my work, and I hit 1000 followers!!!! I conducted the first ever askbox purges, and I drew a load of art!! I also met some great new friends during this month!! (hi soda! :D)

I STARTED STREAMING IN MARCH!!! I think this was one of the best decisions i ever made, because being able to chat and hang out with everyone as i draw is always hugely inspiring. I look forward to streaming and chatting with everyone each week :]

IN APRIL I DREW TOO MUCH NON ROBOT ASS. I finally got around to watching dungeon meshi and i became absolutely fucking obsessed with fantasy. I've always been a huge interest in fae and fantasy and worldbuilding, so knightformers is such a fun creative exercise!!

and then in may my computer exploded. Not actually, the screen just broke. I drew so much knightformers in may that my screen killed itself. oops!

In june, I not only hit 2k followers, but started a stickers business!!! All of your support from that made me feel confident in my ability to sustain myself on my art, and gave me the inspiration to push myself harder as the year went on!

In july, not only did I go to my first transformers convention, I met @pinkanonwrites in person for the first time, and MY BOYFRIEND MOVED INTO MY HOUSE! This month was so busy, but meeting pink and going to tfcon was so fantastic :]

In august it was my BIRTHDAY!! :D i turned 21! And I went on a prolonged inbox hiatus to focus on establishing my art style !

In september my hiatus continued, and I created meter, the greatest blight on the tfa tag to ever exist! Everyone exploded over my sweet boy, and it made me very happy to see :D

In october, i entered what I consider my own personal renaissance!! I was incredibly inspired by tf one, and starting to use more colour in my artwork since september! I released halloween merch (and then got my account on ko-fi suspended for a bit but it was fine) and hit three thousand followers!

IN NOVEMBER I KEPT MYSELF BUSY. I worked on tons of merch, made hypnovembers, and sketched up an absolute storm. The whole month honestly feels like a blur to me. AND THEN THE CANADA POST WORKERS WENT ON STRIKE (union strong, lads, good luck!)

Andddd because of that postal strike, I had to cross the us border into america to get all of my stickers sent off!!! december has continued to be incredibly busy, but! if you're seeing this, it means I'm ON HIATUS OFFICIALLY!!! AND MY WORK IS DONE (or mostly done ehehe)

I want to give a huge thanks to all of you. Because of your support, both financially and socially, not only has my confidence grown, but with it, so has my artistic skill and my income.

Drawing for all of you has allowed me to manage my anxiety more readily with medical marijuana, has allowed me to become more financially independant and responsible, and has opened up so many doors for me socially.

doing this has always been something that was more pipe dream or fantasy than reality, so the fact I get to say I draw for a living at all is a privilege i don't take lightly in the slightest.

I will always be proud to draw for this community. Thank you everyone, and see you next year!

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 201 }

enamored by you.

zayne x artist!fem.reader

dedicated to @nyashykyunnie because she’s a zayne girlie 🥰

to say dr. zayne was a bit grumpy when he woke up cold and alone this morning would be the understatement of the century.

you, his lover of nearly 3 years, had left him suddenly yesterday. after enjoying dinner with you, you suddenly had an epiphany, your inspiration seeming to strike at an inopportune time as you already made preparations to head back to your studio where you could bask in your muse with minimal interruptions. he tries convincing you to stay, yet you didn’t relent, all to eager to temporarily leave him as you were determined to get your muse onto a canvas as soon as possible.

ah, but zayne supposes this is just what he has to deal with when it comes to having an artist as his lover.

after his morning routine, zayne was currently in the kitchen, making his breakfast for the day as a series of knocks were heard coming from his door.

he frowns a bit, checking the time on his phone while searching through his messages, letting out a huff when he didn’t see a reply from you. pocketing his phone, zayne takes quick strides to the door, opening it as he was taken aback by the large canvas in front of him.

the young doctor remains silent, taking a moment to admire the painting. it depicted brightly colored koi fishes swimming in a pond, filled with lily pads with purple blooms sprouting from it. the colors and overall aesthetic of it all was enough to make zayne’s heart melt:

just as he was ready to burn the image of such a wonderful painting into his memories, something much more beautiful catches his attention the moment you peak out from the canvas.

“zaynie! hi, do you like my latest gift for you?”

“hmph, so this was what took you away from me last night.” zayne grumbles in response. despite how he hated your absence and how you were not safely tucked within his arms last night, he was still thoroughly impressed with your artwork. taking the heavy canvas within his hold, he hears you shut his door before following him from close behind.

heading up the stairs, he opens the door to one of the spare bedrooms where its walls were already defrosted with your past works. as you step inside the familiar room, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks turning warm at the sight. every painting and sketch you had given him remains perfectly preserved and cherished within this singular room. just knowing how much zayne adored your love language was enough to make your heart swell for him.

after hanging your latest masterpiece, zayne returns back to your side, a frown on his face when he automatically takes you into his arms, burying his face within your hair as he breathes in the scent of your strawberry shampoo while giving your head a kiss. you feel the gentle sensation and giggle, hugging him back with a beaming smile on your face.

you spend a few more minutes within his embrace until you heard a familiar sigh coming from him. he says your name in a bit of a stern voice. “how long did it take you to paint that for me?”

a sheepish expression was seen on your face, and you knew that you couldn’t just lie to him, because then he could hear and possibly feel the rapid pace of your heart (he was a cardiac surgeon, for god’s sake!) you, being the good girl that you were, opted for the truth.

“i ah… i may have spent the whole night working on it?”

a sharp inhale was heard coming from zayne, with him removing your form from his chest. you give him the best pout you could muster, only to feel your lover pinch at your cheeks in response.

“h-hey!”

“that’s what you get for not taking care of yourself.” zayne tells you with a cool hum, returning you back to his embrace as he carries you, bridal style, out of the room and downstairs into the dining room. he settles you on one of the seats and points a finger at you. “sit still and behave. i’m going to make you breakfast, and you are going to eat everything that is on your plate, doctor’s orders.”

you felt a shiver running down your spine, only managing to give him a nod as you felt your mouth water in response. zayne was an amazing cook, and you always looked forward to the times where he would prepare meals for you (which just happened to be every single day, but you digress…)

as you waited patiently for him, you could smell the scent of honey waffles fill your senses, making you let out a soft moan. everything that zayne was cooking smelled so good to you, and you couldn’t wait to devour the feast he had plans for you.

not even 20 minutes had passed when zayne returns to you with two plates in hand. one plate was filled with the honey waffles with whipped cream strawberries on top, while the other plate was filled with more savory items like scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, and buttered toast. when he settles both plates in front of you, you eagerly dig in with a happy grin on your face.

instead of eating, zayne chooses to spoil you instead, picking you up from your seat before taking your spot, settling you on his lap instead. with a happy giggle, you eagerly share your breakfast with him, allowing him to spoil you as he fed you bites from this delicious meal.

when the plates were nearly emptied did you begin to feel tired, letting out a yawn as you cuddled closer to zayne’s chest.

“what’s this? is my honey getting tired already?” you shiver at his petname for you, only managing to give him a nod as you let out another yawn. he clicks his tongue in feigned disappointment, but really, you knew he was just worried about you.

with breakfast completed for the day, zayne takes you in his arms and stands back to his full height, walking back on the stairs to your shared bedroom. he listens to the way you let out a hum of his name, smiling before entering your shared bedroom.

tossing aside the comforters and sheets with one hand, zayne settles you against the king sized mattress first before joining you. he lays beside you while bringing your form closer to him (almost greedily) as he left no space between the junction of where your chest meets with his.

you felt so warm and comfortable, already falling into a deep slumber the moment zayne feels your soft breaths against his chest. as he twirls a strand of your hair against his fingertips, his gaze lands on the drawers that were settled in front of him-

perhaps when you woke up, zayne would surprise you with a date all while revealing a gorgeously crafted ring for you, the velvet box still remaining hidden within his drawer as you remained blissfully aware of his promises of forever to you.

a.n. - the artwork that you see in the story was also drawn / painted by @nyashykyunnie, she is an amazingly talented writer and artist, and i highly recommend that you readers follow her for some zayne content! 🥰

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[in1-nutshell]

TFP Lithia sounds like it would be a hilarious dose of chaos! I can see Ratchet flipping out and Miko having a grand old time dragging Lithia into as many shenanigans as she can!

(If inspiration strikes to have RB Blades make an appearance, I think that could be fun too, but only if it works with what you have in mind)

Maybe I should write more one on one stories with the kids or specific bots in the future.

Hope you enjoy!

Lithia and Miko's day out

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Hinted romance, Cybertronian reader

TFP/RB

Per usual, Miko had decided to tag along on today’s mission through the groundbrigde.

As much as Lithia loved her human companions, she could feel her optic twitch hearing the energetic teen running off for the 100th time.

Apparently scolding her wasn’t going to help, in fact Lithia was sure that it encouraged Miko to do more running.

But despite this, Lithia couldn’t help but feel a bit bad about the girl getting scolded.

Maybe she was just bored?

…

…Oh, she hoped this wasn’t going to back fire and bite her in the tailpipe.

Lithia catches Miko looking at the groundbrigde as it started whirling to life. She quickly plucks the girl into her servos. Miko: “Hey! Lithia put me down! They need me!” Lithia raises an optic, half amused and half frustrated. Lithia: “And pray tell what you are going to do?” Miko just crossed her arms, still in the bots servos. Miko: “I can do stuff!” Lithia shakes her helm. Lithia: “Miko—” Miko: “If you’re going to do the scolding, just bring me to Ratchet or Bulkhead. No offense, but you’re not exactly the ‘enforcer’ type.” Lithia: “Some offense taken, and I was going to ask if you wanted to go somewhere while the others are out.” Miko was about to say something but stopped and looks at Lithia shocked. Miko: “You can leave the base?” Lithia: “Yes? What you think I couldn’t?” Miko: “I just thought you were confined to the base cause Ratchet told you to stay.” Lithia: “Well… this trip is going to be our little thing.” Miko gasps a bit, and a wide smile grows on her face. Lithia makes a shush motion before the human could say anything. Lithia: “If you can wait a few days, behaving, I’ll make our trip happen.”

Lithia was not expecting Miko to actually behave the next few days.

 Everyone noticed how much Miko had mellowed down.

She didn’t even give a second look at the groundbrigde being activated.

Not a muscle ready to run for the portal.

Bulkhead and Wheeljack were concerned that Miko may have been sick.

Ratchet has already told the Wrecker’s that Miko was healthy, but that didn’t mean he also didn’t worry about her.

Lithia reassured Ratchet and the others that she would keep an optic out for her.

It gave them some comfort knowing another set of medical optics looking out for the human.

Finally, the day came.

Lithia had gone to pick up Miko from school after half day was done, saying it was a favor for Bulkhead.

As soon as Lithia hit the end of the towns limits, she suddenly slammed the acceleration catching Miko off guard.

A swirling groundbrigde swirled as they went through

…except they didn’t end up in the base…

Lithia transformed after letting Miko out.

The normally extroverted girl found herself sticking close to the medics pedes, even jumping when the large doors opened.

A large orange and white mech came out. Miko relaxed a bit seeing the Autobot badge on his chassis. Lithia smiled widely before running to the mech, trapping him in a tight hug. The orange and white mech hugged just as tightly. Miko just stared at them. Miko: “Umm… hi The new bot looked over at her and then at Lithia. Lithia: “She knows Blades, I need to keep an optic out on this little troublemaker.” Blades: “Oh?” He kneels to get a better look at Miko. He gives her a smile that rivaled Lithia’s. Blades: “Hey there! I’m Blades!” Miko: “…Miko…”

Turns out Lithia had reached out to Blades about having a day out on the island.

He knew that a human would be joining but didn’t expect Miko, but was welcoming nonetheless.

Miko had a blast with the tour of Griffin Rock’s most seen places.

She was seriously thinking about moving here when she was older.

The two bots also chatted happily while Miko was taking some pictures.

As much as she wanted to go with them to the more crowded areas, the phrase ‘robots in disgses’ kept on ringing in her head.

The girl tried to get into her usual antics, but apparently Lithia had taken a note from Arcee’s book and created a holoform to snatch her when things were getting a little too extreme.

Extreme as in Miko trying to steal a jetpack or ride a giant mechanical bull.

Blades was a nice bot to talk to, he reminded her a bit of Bulkhead.

He even let her inside his cockpit for a little joy ride.

Miko: “So Blades, what’s up with you Lithia?” Blades: “Like what?” Miko: “You two seem close. Are you guys an item or something? Or did you guys use to date?” Blades paused before laughing. Blades: “Hahaha! No, no Miko she’s my Amica.” Miko blinks for a second. Miko: “…So she’s your ex?” Blades: “No! I’m not and have not dated her. She’s like my best friend! Besides Bumblebee of course.” Miko: “You know Bee?” Blades: “Yep! He’s the best!” Miko: “… Did you know Lithia has a thing for Bee?” Blades: “Oh my Primus I thought I was the only one! Are they dating yet?” Miko: “No, at this point only a natural disaster is going to get them to confess.” Blades: “Agreed. My team has a betting pool on when they are going to confess, you wanna join?” Miko: “There’s other bots!?”

Blades had to stop the girl from trying to contact his team several times.

He finally understood what Lithia meant about Miko being a bit of a handful.

The copter was just thankful that she stopped after he faked getting hurt after she pushed some of his buttons too hard.

Lithia has no idea what the pair are talking about.

She is just happy that the two are bonding.

Sadly, it was soon time to leave.

After a few hugs and a promise to visit again in the future the pair left Griffin rock.

Lithia and Miko walk into the groundbride in the base. Lithia: “You know its kind of weird that no one called—” She didn’t get to finish her sentence as she was tackled into a tight hug by a familiar yellow bot. Bumblebee: “Beep bep bep Boop bop?! (Where were you two!? We’ve been calling for hours! We thought the Con’s got you!)” Lithia: “We didn’t get anything.” Miko shrugs before getting scooped up by fretting Bulkhead. Lithia looks over at Ratchet. The doctor had a look of concern, relief and anger. Ratchet: “His question still stands Lithia. I would have expected this behavior from Miko, not you.” Lithia raises an optic as she gets out of Bee’s grip and crosses her arms. Lithia: “First thing, leave Miko out of this. Second, we didn’t get any calls. Did you use the right com line?” Ratchet: “Of course I did!” Lithia looks at the screen before sighing. Lithia: “You were calling on the old line.” Ratchet looks at the screen. Ratchet: “…It appears I did. But where were you two?” Lithia smiles patting her father on the shoulder. Lithia: “Just visiting Blades.” Bumblebee: “Beep boop bop? (You know Blades?)”

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Just thought of this idea just now.

Can you do a smut with a yandere greek god of war x water nymph reader, with the nymph being chased by the god until he caught up with her and takes her to his bedroom, and the whole love making thing is more consensual?

Sure!

A/N: Also, sorry I'm answering this late again. Hurricane Helene came over my state so I was literally(and still am) preparing for the worst.

You were a water nymph. A lonely one at that. Also, a confused one, because you grew up alone with only water and the sealife to keep you company. You didn't even know what type of water nymph you were, all you knew was that both of your parents didn't want you. And so, here you are, living your life on the shore of some tourist beach.

"Do you always sit there?" A man with brown skin, red hair, and purplish-blue eyes asks, sitting next to you.

"Yeah, pretty much. I don't exactly have anywhere else to go," You respond, enjoying the feeling of the waves touching your feet. "What about you? Do you have anywhere to go?"

"Of course, I do. I go to lots of places," The man answers, blushing a little. "Say, what's your name, cutie?"

"Aqua...Aquata. Or at least that's the name others have given me But I prefer Y/N." You answer, getting up.

"Y/N, where are you going?" The man asks, seeing you walk into the ocean. "Y/N? Y/N!"

And with that, you're in the sea filled with inspiration. If he could travel everywhere, then you can too. Your first stop was the island that the sailors call Sirenum Scopuli. It was flowery and pretty, and the women were welcoming. For some reason, they said you smelled familiar to them.

Your next stop was the island of Thrinacia, where you found a crying cyclops.

"Excuse me, if I may ask, why are you crying?" You ask, standing in front of the cyclops.

"He took stabbed me in the eye! I'm blinded! I'm blinded! I can never see my beloved sheep again!" The cyclops cried, making you feel pity for the poor creature.

"Oh, I can fix it if you want. I've healed many eye injuries before," You say, getting an idea.

"Really, you'll fix my eye? I'm in your debt for eternity," The cyclops exclaims, a smile on his face.

"Yep!" You say, diving back into the water, and returning with the eye of a giant sea squid. "I've performed this plenty of times on animals. Hold on, I need to get the eye out."

You pull the cyclop's eye out and put the squid's eye in its place. You work your magic on the eye and use the liquid inside it to weave your magic through his nervous system.

"Ok, try blinking. Do you see anything?" You ask, standing back.

"YAY! I CAN SEE AGAIN!" The cyclops yells, jumping around and clapping. "THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!"

"Don't mention it, big guy," You exclaim, kissing his cheek.

"Here, take sheep's wool. It can be used to warm you up during the cold," The cyclops replies, giving you a cloak.

You accept the gift and continue on your way. As you travel through the ocean, an arrow strikes your arm. You scream in pain, your blood dying the water around you red. You hear men screaming above and force yourself to see the same red-haired man from the beach.

"YOU FOOLS! HOW DARE YOU HURT MY GODDESS?!" The man screams, letting his wrath decimate the soldiers above him. "My goddess, are you ok?"

"You? What are you doing here?" You ask, gripping the wool cloak.

"My dove, are you ok?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Good."

He kisses your lips, and a wave of memories comes flooding back. You haven't been back on that beach in years. You've been living with him, your dear husband, Ares. One day you got into a fight with him, ran away, and had been aimlessly wandering through the human world until you eventually pushed everything concerning Ares and your life with him to the back of your mind.

"Ares?" You gasp, feeling his hands cupping your cheeks.

"The third. Ares the third," Ares says, looking into your eyes. "I had been looking for you for five long years. Do you know how much it hurt me to see you not recognize me on that beach?"

"Ares, listen, I...what were we even fighting about?" You ask, straddling your husband.

"I...we were arguing about your family-our family-both. Your family wanted to reach out to you, I was talking about wanting a baby, it all piled up and we had a really bad fight, and no words could describe how sorry I am. I should've let you reach out to your family, and I shouldn't have tried making a family of our own as if it was an acceptable replacement for your family."

"Oh...Ares. I-Is my family ok?"

"Yes. They've been living at my castle since you disappeared. They'd love to meet you."

"I'd love to meet them too."

~~~~~~~~~

"Welcome home, my goddess," Ares says, removing his hands from your eyes.

"Mom? Dad?" You say, seeing a siren and Triton.

"Hi, sweetie. We've got a lot to explain, but I think your husband really wants to talk to you. We'll be waiting at the dinner table," Your mom says, nudging your dad to say hi.

"Don't worry, I will return your daughter to you in a walkable manner," Ares says, guiding you to his bedroom.

The door shuts, and Ares is already kissing your body.

"Do you know how long I've missed you, missed your body?" Ares murmurs, kissing your neck as he slips his dress off your shoulders. "Please tell me you remember my touch?"

"I'm sorry..." You say, guiltily looking at Ares.

"Don't worry about it. I'll make you remember again," Ares whispers, feeling you up.

"A-Ares!" You moan as your husband kisses your breasts.

Ares sucks on your breasts as he pushes your dress off your ass. The two of you fall on the bed, and Ares grasps your hands. You see his toned chest peak through his white v-neck blouse and stare at it.

"Oh, you want my clothes off too?" Ares asks, holding back a smirk as he looks at your cute face.

"Yes, please. Take it off. Take it all off," You plead, rubbing your leg against his crotch.

Ares does as you say and you gawk at his glorious body and skin.

"What? Never seen a god before?" Ares mocks, stroking his 7 1/2-inch cock.

"Wow..." You gasp, closing your legs as Ares crawls towards you in all his glory.

"Don't worry, babe. I won't make a mess out of you," Ares responds, kissing your pussy and lining himself up at your entrance. "I'm going in."

"Mm!" You moan, your husband not moving to let you adjust.

"You're ok, you're doing good. I know it's been a while since you've had me inside you," Ares moans, resisting the urge to thrust. "Are you ready, my goddess?"

You nod your head and he begins to thrust. You gasp as a wave of pleasure washes over you, your hands gripping the sheets. Ares grabs your hands, guiding them so they're gently around his waist.

"You look so amazing!" Ares moans, speeding up. "I love you. I love you so much! I love you so much, I'll be with you even after the mortals move on to the next set of gods. I love you so much I'd kill the entire world and the pantheon for you."

"I love you too, Ares!" You moan, making your husband tear up.

He orgasms inside of you and kisses your sweet lips. His tears fall on your cheeks, and you look at your husband with pity. The genuine love for you flowing through his tears, send you over the edge, and you cum on his cock.

"Aw, honey, don't cry. I'm sorry I forgot about you," You apologize, kissing your husband's head.

"I've seen the bloodiest of slaughter and entire people wiped out from genocide, but you're the one thing I could never forget," Ares cries, laying his head onto your boobs. "Please don't leave me like that again."

You start to cry and wipe your husband's tears away. You kiss him, feeling his heartbeat calm down.

"It's ok, I won't leave you again," You say, touching your forehead with his.

[nattyswann]

“Im the hunter.”

authors note: AHHH okay so true sanji fangirls would know that the title is inspired by his famous ‘Im the hunter’ line in Enies lobby. However I do want you to imagine timeskip sanji rather than pre-timeskip. You guys can imagine what you want but that’s what envisioned when I wrote it haha.

Parings: hybrid!reader x hunter!sanji

Warnings: dark content! You have been warned! smut, hybridxhuman relationship, dubcon (reader tries to run away but she ends up liking it), Yandere themes, size kink, breeding kink, honestly sanji may be a bit of a sadistic fuck in this but he’s hot so it’s okay !

Summary: Sanji and his buddies go on their annual hunting trip. That’s where he meets you. He becomes so infatuated with you that he makes sure that you’re his prey for the trip.

• When sanji and three of his buddies go hunting, he doesn’t really expect to catch anything. He never does. Every year when they go on this trip they usually just get wasted in a cabin and exchange stories. They just call it a ‘hunting trip’ for some reason.

• Luffy and Zoro are typically the only ones who catch prey because they are the only ones who really care. Luffy loves hunting and catching this own food. Especially the part where Sanji gets on the grill and cooks up his kills. Zoro just likes the hunting and killing part. It’s something about it that gets his competitive side to come out so he can show how good he is at it. How much better than Sanji he is.

• Usopp loves coming on the trip but he is always too loud and jumpy to make any catches. That’s why Zoro and Luffy stick together and Sanji and Usopp stick together. The four of them decided those are the best pairs. Sanji just goes to get a glance at the scenery and see the different animals that pass by. It was usually only deers, ducks, and other wildlife.

• However..this time Sanji gets a glimpse of something a bit larger than a normal animal. It has an unusual outline and he almost makes out..a chest..slim waist..long hair. It takes him a minute but he almost mistakes it for a..WOMAN?!

• He has to do multiple double takes as his eyes take in the sight of a beautiful creature that’s foreign to him. He’s never seen a pretty thing like you before. To make sure he was seeing things right, Sanji decided to whistle at you. He was just trying to strike a movement from you. When you heard his whistle, you turned your head and widened your eyes at the sight in front of you. It was a scary man with a gun just as big as him.

• Having seeing the gun, you decided it was probably best to run if you wanted to get away with your life. Of course, Sanji followed and ran after you though. He had left poor Usopp all alone but to him it was worth it. For some reason Sanji had felt the sudden urge to catch you. The urge to tame you so he could show how much more power he had over such a small thing like you. Never had he actually enjoyed hunting but this was quite fun. He liked seeing you fumble and loved the scared look on your face as you turned back to check if he was still coming.

• After having that thought, Sanji suddenly paused and stopped running. He watched as you sped away from him and disappeared into the trees. Sanji stood there for a moment, contemplating what that feeling he just had was. What was that random sadistic thought his mind thought up? Why did it feel so good to know that he could hunt you down if he really wanted too?

• While he was contemplating these things, Usopp finally found him. “Jesus, Sanji! Why’d you run away from me like that?! You know there are bears out here! Like actual real life bears. Like with claws and shit.” Sanji shushed Usopp and pointed the same direction that you ran off in. “You know those Hybrid things. I’m pretty sure I just seen one. She was really cute too.”

• “For real?” Usopp put on his googles and scanned the area Sanji was pointing towards. “For real.” Sanji started walking the same direction and pulled his gun closer to him.

• “Wait, Where are you going?” Usopp began to follow him and pulled his own gun closer to him too. “I’m hunting. Isn’t that what we came here to do?”

• “So you’re planning on killing this hybrid?” “Of course not. The gun is just for intimidation.” Sanji seriously wasn’t planning on killing you. He just wanted to catch you and see what you really looked like up close. Then he would set you free back into your natural home. They had a few more hours until they had to meet back up at the cabin so why not have some fun?

• After about an hour of camping out and just waiting around, Sanji heard a tiny sneeze from behind him. “Usopp, keep your baby sneezes to yourself. I’m trying to listen.” “Hey! I didn’t sneeze!” When usopp said that, it set in that there was someone else there. There was someone else in the area that was there with them. “Shh. She’s here.” Sanji whispered to Usopp.

• The two of them looked around and searched for any sign of any type of hybrid. That’s when Sanji seen you again. Wearing that same oblivious face you had before you spotted him. You looked so pretty and peaceful. As opposed to the scared and anxious look you had earlier.

• “There she is. That’s the one, Usopp.” Usopp perked his head and put a hand over his mouth to hide his excitement. “Woah, You were right. She is an odd looking creature.” The long-nosed man shoved his hand into his bag to find his Polaroid camera. “I gotta take a picture to show Kaya!” “No. Don’t wanna risk her seeing the flash.” Usopp groaned and put his camera away. “You are no fun. Suddenly you are like Zoro and Luffy.”

• “I wanna catch her. She’s mine.” Usopp put his hands up defensively. “Fine. You can hunt for her on your own then. I’m going back to the cabin.” Sanji swatted him away as he kept his eyes on you. “Whatever. I’ll see you when I get back.” Usopp patted Sanji’s back as he packed up and left. “Good luck.” Sanji didn’t need luck. He was determined to trap you in and corner you when you least expect it. The same way he watched Zoro and luffy do to prey so many times.

• Sanji lifted his gun and got a closer look at you with the scope of his hunting rifle. He couldn’t believe how beautiful you were. How innocent you looked. Now that he got a better look at you, he could make out a cute little fluff of a tail and long ears that were just as adorable as you. You were a sweet little bunny hybrid and Sanji wanted to make you his. Whether he had to fight you for it or make you submit to him. Sanji was going to have you in some way.

• He decided that he waited enough and so sanji tied his boots and got ready to take charge after you. This part was the most fun. The thrill of being able to chase you down. Sanji took one step and that was all you needed to perk your head up and take a look around. You were way too slow though because the blonde man caught you completely by surprise. He jumped from the trees and dashed towards you in one fast swoop. You could barely react and it didn’t help that your fear took over and you just froze. You fell to the ground on your back when the man got too close. You felt chills go down your spine.

• “W-who are you? Why were you following me?!” Sanji took a hit from his cigarette and blew out the smoke before giving you an answer. “Who am I?” The tall man bent down a bit to get closer to your face. “I’m the hunter.”

• You trembled under the man that stood above you with his gun in hand. Sanji reached a hand down to feel the soft spots of fur on your cheek. “What’s wrong, darling? You’re shaking.” The closer he got to you, the more you felt threatened. Something about his demeanor made you quiver. Also the fact he was still bearing a gun. Sanji noticed your quick glances towards his weapon. “Awe. Does this big gun scare you, little one?” Chuckling as he put it on his back and out of view. “Don’t worry. If I wanted to use it on you I would have. I had many opportunities.”

• “You liar! I’m not that gullible. You’re wearing hunting gear and you have a gun. You were hunting me down.” Sanji’s smirked suddenly turned into a frustrated frown. “I’m telling you the truth. I was only in it for the hunt but I caught you. So I win.”

• Sanji held out his hand to help you off the muddy ground. Even though he promised he had no intentions to kill you, the scary thought still lingered in your mind. “Take my hand. You look hungry so I’ll feed you and get you all cleaned up.” When his hand came at you, by instinct you swatted it away and flinched away from him. “What’s wrong with you? I told you to take my hand. I’m giving you a chance to do it voluntarily.” “And if I don’t?”

• Sanji shrugged and retracted his hand. He tried to give you a chance. He tried being a gentleman. “Fine then. Stay down there. We can still have fun out in the wild.” Not being able to control himself, Sanji took the opportunity to get on top of you and trap you between his large frame. When you tried to throw feeble punches at his chest Sanji chucked and used one of his hands to grab hold of your wrist. “Stop it. I’m not trying to hurt you, bunny.” When the man caught a tear coming from your eyes he licked it from your cheek. “I can’t you have you crying yet.” He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Don’t cry. I’m just gonna make love to you, bunny.”

• when you heard those words, it sprung you to fight harder and try to push him away. He was trying to have his way with you. Sanji leaned up and started unbuckling his belt. This gave you a moment to turn on your stomach and attempt to run but it was futile. Sanji ended up grabbing your ankles and getting on your back. It wasn’t long before you felt his penis threatening to penetrate your virgin cunt. You trembled at the thought of how far he might stretch you. “Ready, bunny?” You slowly nodded and lightly pushed your ass closer to his member. You weren’t sure why you submitted so quickly or why his dominating voice made you want more but your body had failed you. “Ah. You must be feeling impatient. You want your masters dick inside you?” Sanji grabbed hold of his cock and spit on the tip so he could glide it in with a bit of ease. Your eyes began to water when you felt the pressure from the tip. “Hah..I..I can already feel you inside..”

• Sanji nodded and took in your gorgeous face as you felt your first ever dick entering your gummy walls. He could probably burst just from the pure tightness and the way your hole clamped around his tip. “I’m gonna put the rest, darling. You ready to feel me stretch your tiny hole out?”

• “Please just be gentle..make it feel good.” Sanji took hold of your chin and put his lips near your neck so that he could apply loving kisses while he pounded you from behind. “Oh, I’ll be gentle. I wouldn’t wanna hurt my fragile hybrid.” Although he was sort of forcing this on you, it was nice to be claimed by someone and feel the warmth of another person. You weren’t mated by any other hybrids and you lived alone in the woods. Having this random man come by and swoop you off your feet is so overwhelming but in a good way.

• You could feel sanji begin to push forward and slowly get you to adjust to him. He believed in your ability to take him all at once so he pushed the rest of his cock into your pussy. It helped him that you gushed out wetness that began to stream down your thighs. You started to wiggle but sanji was able to calm you down by kissing your neck and stroking your clit with one of his hands. “This isn’t too much, is it baby?”

• “No..I wanna be filled with you. Go dee-” You could barely finish your sentence before he roughly thrusted deeper into you. Sanji took that as his que to go at his own pace now. He took his hand that was stroking your clit and flicked his fingers faster against the sensitive bud. You moaned out and he grinned at the fact that he was giving it to you so good already. “Fuck.” Sanji glanced down at where he connected with you. The loud plapping sounds echoing around the forest rang in your ears while you faded in and out of awareness. “You are taking me so well. Your cunt is just too eager to finally have a cock in it.”

• “Please could you b-breed me..?” You kicked your legs and moaned out again after asking such a lewd question out of nowhere. You didn’t wanna ask but your mouth ran faster than your mind and your instincts told you to get bred by your current mate. “Of course.” sanji rubbed your clit roughly as he sped up again. “Only if you beg me some more and say that I own you.” He leaned down to whisper the last part in your ear. “My name is sanji by the way.”

• “s-sanji..could you pretty please breed me with your cum..”

• “Already on it. If you keep it up then i’ll make sure to fill this pretty bunny pussy with all my seed.” “I want you to be the one to claim me. Want you to mark me.” sanji’s mind went into overload when he heard your encouraging words and felt your walls clamping around him in attempt to keep all his sweet seed from spilling out. “Mmhh..how’s that for breeding? Did I do a good job?” It went without saying that he did though because of your clearly satisfied expression. You couldn’t even give him an answer from how fucked out you were. Sanji was pleased with himself as he pulled out his cock with a pop. He smelled your neck and stroked your hair. “You were so sweet for me. You knew exactly who you belonged too.” He took two of his fingers and pushed them inside of you too make sure you could feel his sticky seed all inside of you. “Such a good bunny for me.”

[rainystarters]

๋࣭ ⭑𓆩✧𓆪🗡ྀ࿔ 〖 stories and songs . . . 〗 a collection of sentence starters inspired by various codex entries from the dragon age rpg series. some prompts usfw. adjust details as necessary.

the wind that stirs their shallow graves carries their song.

heed our words, hear our cry.

oh, fair damsel of the garden!

surely your work is far too vital to be interrupted by one like me.

i was a fool to pluck that flower.

you are not a man known for your honor.

you allowed me to live once, and so now i do the same for you.

i am humbled by your words.

but some things cannot be repent.

there is something in here with us.

death is certain, either way.

you have been my rock and my shield.

strike true, do not waver. and let not your prey suffer.

as the sapling bends, so must you.

you are lost, and soon you will fade.

go forth and claim the empty throne of heaven.

you have brought doom upon the world.

magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.

they shall find no rest in this world or beyond.

there is but one truth.

all things in this world are finite.

each night in dreams you may always remember me.

the light shall lead you safely.

i am but your faithful servant.

if blood must be shed and used, so be it.

step away from this folly, before it consumes us all.

i long to dance with you beneath the moonlight.

do not despair. for it is not you, it is of me.

my most heartfelt apologies for the ripped bodice.

such depravity i have never been forced to suffer!

let them hunt, and dread finding me.

truth will hold you for that is what truth does.

i shouldn't have doubted your resolve.

please accept my humble apologies.

in truth, it is i who has been most vulnerable.

the seals are already weakening.

it must be protected at all costs.

of unknown metal and magic keen, a finer blade there's never been.

any army is only as good as its equipment.

blessed by the vine in spring, i shall not fear the winter's sting.

only fools ignore the history of the ground they walk and the people they meet.

i could use an extra pair of eyes to keep watch at night.

i hope they found peace.

blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.

in blood, my will is written.

we are forever in your graces.

the oath you have taken is all but broken.

can you be forgiven when the cold grave has come?

once we raised up our chalice in victory.

why change the past when you can own this day?

the wolves are our allies.

always keep an eye out for the noble owl.

nothing burns like the first cup.

gallows master, hold they hand. hold it back awhile.

look away, look into the sun.

you know we all are dying.

alas, i cannot stay.

we'll beat down the bastard, and then we'll get plastered!

what of the old secrets the burn in our hearts?

now we pray for a dawn that will never arrive.

but it is our blood he seeks.

you will realize the smiles are false, and behind them lies revenge.

for all your fancy intrigue, you have spent your life creating nothing of worth.

it moves on without you, uncaring.

who could bear the weight of a people destroyed by his hand?

what was your vision of our purpose?

so buy the lads a round.

i'm ashore for the night and seeking company.

i'd still rather die.

why be what i am when i can be more?

have you threatened to cut out anyone's tongue today?

for have i not grown in skill and measure?

binding a demon of higher power is dangerous...

let it be my choice to have served and died.

i'm not staying to watch you die like a fool.

the undead you have been fighting are people i killed with my own hands.

here is my soul, trapped in a cage of bone.

turn around, face the shadows. don't blink.

just going to lie here for a while.

chopping off their heads should do the trick.

i am empty, filled with nothing.

arrogance becomes our end.

i'm here to die. but i won't go quietly.

i don't want to die like this.

cry for the past; only there does glory dwell.

so the forest grows, a reflection of our might.

mourn the past and all that was left there.

mastery of the self is mastery of the world.

suffering is choice and we can refuse it.

pride disguises itself in its surety.

[hyun3hk3y]

Symbolism in "Portrait of Lady Edelgard Von Hresvelg"

This is something that I’ve usually never really felt comfortable doing. If you ever wonder why some artists are a bit more reluctant to actually *talk* about the “meaning” of their work, its because it strikes the same tenor as having to explain why a joke is funny.  If I have to actually lay it out for the viewer why certain decisions were made in the execution of a work of art, the magic of the whole experience may be lost.  Moreover, many artists avoid making definitive statements on their work because they do not wish to deprive viewers the opportunity to derive their own unique explanation. 

While I chiefly view myself as a fine artist, most of my artistic training was as an illustrator.  As an artist, this can lead to an interesting dichotomy when it comes to creating paintings.  During my studies, I was told that the job of an illustrator is to solve pictorial problems for people often by making pictures that tell a story or convey an idea.  Fine art’s definition, in contrast, tends to be more nebulous.  But I digress, on to the painting…

A number of people on reddit and Tumblr have remarked on the candle with the snuffed-out flame.  No interpretations on it have been offered, the mere presence of a candle with a smoldering wick is a strong enough implication.  However, this is one instance where I drew inspiration from art history so I believe it is worth elaborating on.  The animus for the candle originates in the Arnolfini Portrait by Jan Van Eyck.  Below is an image of the painting with the pertinent candle circled.

Art history scholars have a number of different readings about the candle’s presence, but the one I was taught in Art History is that the lit candle indicates the presence of the holy ghost or the watchful eye of God.  Three Houses draws from a number of religions for its world building, in the case of The Church of Serios, the developers took the majority of their cues from The Catholic Church.  If a lit candle would suggest Edelgard’s faith in the Goddess, then an extinguished one must imply Edelgard’s *loss* of faith. 

In addition to the extinguished candle, I would also like to direct viewers to the reflection of the candle in the polished wood table surface. In the reflection the candle is still burning very brightly, almost down to the base of the candelabra.

The purpose of this image is to recall a saying from old Taoism Philosophy in China: “The candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long.”  Those who are familiar with Edelgard’s back story in Three Houses will find its relevance obvious.  I doubt I am the only one to make the allusion.

This brings me to the next major piece of symbolism I employed in the painting, the dagger and the drapery on the table.  The dagger’s significance should go without saying, but its application as a device will become more apparent after I explain the table cloth.  To put it succinctly, the majority of the dark shadow shapes made by the tablecloth are arranged to evoke the shape of the crest of flames.  Below is another visual to help illuminate this detail. 

The immediate implication here is the detail of Edelgard possessing the crest of flames.  As for why I decided to depict it in a more concealed way…When I first got the idea for this painting, the whole concept was that if a person saw this painting in a gallery, they would be looking at an actual artifact from Fodlan, one that created by an artist who actually lived there.  This is why the second row of the inscription reads “In the Imperial Year” on the left side and “1179” on the right.  This means the painting would have been completed just before Edelgard starts attending Gareg Mach, and long before the greater public would know she has the crest of flames.  How the artist came to know this would remain a mystery.  I like to imagine it as a detail that Fodlan’s historians would debate over for years after the game’s narrative.

There is also a second message that I have intended with the dagger’s placement cutting (heh) across the crest…Gripping the dagger over the crest of flames is a statement about what the path is that Edelgard will take, especially when the crest is examined as representing the Goddess Sothis.  In fact, there are two (technically three) lines of dialogue from Three Houses I had in mind for this symbolism.

That about sums it up!  I may do a couple more posts in the future where I show how the painting evolved from thumbnails, to studies to the finished image if theres interest in that sort of thing.

[hadesoftheladies]

Chat, Will Men Save Us From Patriarchy?

time to respond to ghost bloggers who respond to my posts and block me.

@ ray-moo

Patriarchy is not an entity in itself. It is a name that describes male people, culture and behaviour. Men ARE patriarchy. Even when we say that patriarchy grooms men and boys, what we are really describing (albeit somewhat inefficiently) is other men and boys socializing men and boys to be misogynistic. Patriarchy is the name of a social dynamic. Men create patriarchy. Men are the patriarchs that in turn create more patriarchs.

It is not mere "complicity" and this kind of talk is what inspired me to make my post in the first place. There is no government mandate for men to beat up their wives or exploit their mothers. Rape is a deliberate, personal choice. There is no law that forces men's hands against women and girls. Men do that all on their own or are encouraged to do that by male peers, peers that mostly exist on the same economic level as they do. All wealthy men do is exploit pre-existing sentiments among already existing misogynists. The men in government don't need to encourage men to be violent. They only need make sure the violence is manageable for them.

Men are not middle management of patriarchy. They are the beginning, the fuel and the endpoint.

"Most revolutions" is the key phrase here. One one hand, feminism is not "most revolutions" because patriarchy isn't "most oppressions." Women under patriarchy are in a unique position because their oppression is primarily domestic/intimate/interpersonal. Not only that, but unlike say, a worker's strike in India, women make up HALF THE GLOBAL POPULATION. Women across the globe have pretty much IDENTICAL experiences. That is, in a twisted sort of way, an advantage many other marginalized groups do not have. Feminism is heavily policed because female backlash on a large scale can become very inconvenient for all facets of economy.

On the other hand, it's not that I think you're wrong about how revolutions work, I just think you're mistaken about your assessment of patriarchy: mainly, you think that it is working class men and women against bourgeoise men who perpetuate brutal patriarchy for their own economic gain. Which is false.

Yes, we do need class solidarity, but not as lower-middle class men and women, but as WOMEN. Women are the oppressed class in patriarchy, and men are the oppressor class in patriarchy. The interests and needs of both classes transcend economic class and culture, which is why killing all the rich white men may do great service to everybody everywhere, but misogynists will continue to misogynist post-funerary rites.

I'm personally not convinced that male allyship is what's going to turn the tide, here. It will be useful, yes, and in some cases, it's been deeply necessary, but 1. I don't see why men cannot receive feminist/non-patriarchal community with other men and 2. I don't think a lack of male allyship is what's holding feminism back.

What's holding women back is a lack of female solidarity. What keeps men in power is an overwhelming presence of male class solidarity. It's not merely money. It's not merely judicial power. It's class consciousness.

Women have the numbers to change the world, but our solidarity lies with everyone and everything else but ourselves. For feminism to get to a point where women can kill men in self-defense or use violence in any meaningful way, and still be protected will take female solidarity, not male mercy. For women's liberation to become a serious force, women must hold to each other fiercely, despite any odds men stack against us.

I get this sentiment chiefly from history. In history, the most successful advocates (not merely the loudest or most passionate) for women's rights were women. Sure, you had a positive male figurehead here and there, and a smattering of allies, but it was MAJORITY women marching, women protesting, women organizing and strategizing.

No one knows the oppressor better than the oppressed, after all.

So I'm NOT saying that feminism would do better to ignore young men. What I am saying is that we'll make faster progress if we can, as women, band together to disrupt male hegemony in places of influence. Female solidarity is the priority, while rehabilitating men is an often expensive and wasteful endeavour that just serves to distract and even disempower female solidarity for the most part.

Just like the working class can only depend on themselves and not the rich for their freedom, so women can only depend on themselves and not men for freedom. It's that simple.

Okay, but have you considered that men don't respect us regardless of our actions? Many women adhere to your definition of respectability. Many? I'd say countless! But that hasn't made a difference. You're really proving my point for me.

Also, this is still "being nice=feminist praxis." If a man truly disagreed with male supremacist ideology, he wouldn't need any woman to justify that for him because allies have spines and actual moral fibre. People don't stop being Nazis because a black/Jewish person was nice to them. The alternative to patriarchy for men is not fucking participating in it. The alternative to observing Nazism is not observing Nazism. Men are the only ones that can "create" that alternative for themselves by choosing it.

Additionally, what radfem solutions are bone-headed and overzealous? Not wearing make-up and contributing to the predatory and exploitative beauty industry (which is also anti-capitalist action)? Refusing to fuel the estate of a man at the expense of ourselves (as in 4B)? Focusing on organizations and grassroots efforts that empower impoverished girls and women to educate and sustain themselves independent of abusive men? Marching and petitioning? Advocating for laws that uphold our rights? What? Come on, tell me. Is it refusing to participate in the exploitative institution of marriage or refusing to birth another member of the male class (of which the last two are not even the most defining forms of activism in radical feminism)? Because pretty much every other successful activist group does at least HALF these things, but when activist strategies are made to be particular to women, suddenly it's not doing much of anything? Interesting.

If these are overzealous, I wonder what you think of the lengths the status quo has gone to enforce the subjugation of women and girls.

You guys can't even criticize radical feminism well because you STILL don't understand it. You don't engage with it's history or theory outside of reactionaries online but then have the self-importance to lecture us on what "you think" we're doing wrong and what "you think" is really holding women back. You don't even understand women's conditions outside of androcentrism, even in your political analyses. It's trolling at worst and bad criticism at best.

Most critics still can't criticize actual radical feminism because they refuse to familiarize themselves with anything regarding it.

hey @odiabonecessario , you don't know a single thing about radical feminism and you should probably fix that before purporting to "agree" with it. this may come as a shock to you, but women's rage and anger is DEEPLY integral to women's class consciousness, as it is wherever consciousness-raising is needed for class action. just because men don't benefit from women's rage doesn't mean it's purposeless. providing space to be angry provides women space to acknowledge their suffering and inspires them, believe it or not, to take action in their own lives. this is significant, because, remember, patriarchy is interpersonal. by allowing herself to hate her oppressors, she is free of deifying them. she is free to invest in herself. "misandry" is an important sub-set of radical feminist culture, but it is still only a sub-set. recognizing that men are the root (where radical feminism gets its name) of the systemic suffering, psychological alienation and societal violence is part of consciousness-raising. one must recognize their oppression and who is doing the oppressing to successfully organize for liberation. y'all just continuously refuse to apply any basic political framework to the plight of women because at the heart of all this throat-clearing about radfems, you still refuse to acknowledge systemic male violence and the reality of female oppression.

god, i miss when critics did their damn homework

[kawaiiblossoms04]

🌸Story Title: A Rose in a Gilded Cage | Sukuna x Black/Brown Reader

🌸A/N : As always, here’s a little glimpse of what’s to come, my darlings.

Thanks to my day off and pulling an all-nighter or two, I’ve been able to make some good progress on the story. Hopefully, I’ll be able to post later this week after editing!

Reminder of the AU - I may or may not have been inspired by Avatar: The Last Airbender and...90 Day Fiancé when creating this story. Yes, it's a strange combo, but hey, inspiration works in mysterious ways. Judge me if you must, but it's my guilty pleasure, and I have no regrets. It’s coming along pretty nicely if I do say so myself.

🌸Now, onto the reason your beautiful eyeballs are still lingering here—

Your hand came up to slap, but his own larger palm intercepted it, clutching with a strong grip around your wrist and tightening until it felt like he might crush the bone, a menacing frown replacing the smirk he wore seconds before.

"Don't hit me again," he hissed dangerously low as his other hand pressed harder against your throat. "This is the second time. One more strike, disrespectful whore, and I promise there'll be no wedding...but a funeral."

"Just kill me already. Fuck at least I'll die standing up to you." you responded with no hesitation, narrowing your eyes at him.

His eyes flashed with an odd fascination, surprised with your sudden attitude. He tsked, shaking his head side to side with disbelief before breaking his silence "you know I like you more and more. And the more I look at you...the more think I might have actually lucked out. You have a pair and would've made a great soldier." his thumb stroked your lips and dragged to the side slowly.

It caught you off guard, the words, the sudden compliments.

"What...What are you doing. Let go." you struggle and tugged.

"Huh." his eyes lazed and pupils dilated, an allure taking over him as a chuckle released, his brows raising with a devious grin. "I think that pretty, fiery spirit has some definite merit to it and as a bonus, it has some secret kinks too" His smile curled at the corners and his hold on your wrist weakened. "A fighter but I saw a small part of submission too."

His hand trailed lower, gently running over your ass. He applied pressure before easing with a firm hold and your thighs quivered and squeezed, tight and closing on impulse. Then he guided your hands over his broad chest. "Feel that? That's raw power, something no one else can give you. A woman like you deserves a man strong enough to protect her, even if she doesn't want it... You don't realize how pretty—soft, vulnerable, and far too innocent-looking you are." He confessed.

"Well," you faked a small cough and took a small inhale through your nose "That's exactly why I told myself a filthy man like yourself will never have me. And, yes I do know I am pretty," the air that left you carried a hint of attitude. "Very pretty actually, thank you and I can take care of myself." You reminded. "And unfortunately, everyday I will be forced to see that ugly, cocky smirk."

He grinned at your choice of insult, laughing under his breath. He had to admit he liked your confidence. The arrogant and brazen exterior was attractive in its own, unexpected way.

"What an interesting thing you are." He hmmed appreciatively, as the look on his face was calm but you knew he didn't give up on trying, continuing the game. His palm slipped under your shirt and trailed the flesh along your lower back, the gentle caresses turning your skin to a fiery hot blaze, prickling every sense, aware of how dangerous of a man you were dancing with.

"Hey." You squealed, not letting your facade fade and pulled at the hem, trying removing his hand with haste.

"Relax."

"Don't touch me...you already do it enough. We aren't getting intimate anytime soon, bastard." you snapped.

"We aren't?" his grin didn't disappear. His hold and palm slid up and around your torso to your rear, brushing over and squeezing roughly and feeling, savoring the tenderness. He trailed the outer creases and grasped firmly before another few taps to feel it jiggle under his fingertips.

"Knock it off, or I'll beat the living spirits out of you."

His playful behavior changed to one of interest and focused his attention on you. "The question is. Do you'd like it rough? Or do want me to be gentle?" He mused and chuckled as the seriousness fell.

You clicked your tongue with displeasure. You pushed away his arm and distance yourself quickly and backing up to the corner with a scowl. "Men like you disgust me, you make women feel dirty. And...as my future 'husband' or whatever. I will keep things as they are until we get married, then...we have to do our duties."

He looked as if you said something humorous.

"You mean until you spread your legs for me... or until you're begging to bounce on my cock... right?" his expression held amusement at how bothered and shocked you appeared.

You huffed, annoyed.

The whole subject was irritating.

The Fire Nation Prince would never admit aloud that he did long to bed you. It was true, A woman never told him no, ever, and yet, you did, over and over, and all he could do is stare back at his soon to be wife and the silent stare battle continued. The deep blue hues in your eyes pierced his fiery amber red hues, matching in intensity as the staring battle continued.

His eyes traced you over and over again and his mind was flooded with possibilities and vivid fantasy. He closed his eyes and saw it, you moved against him with the same enthusiasm, your curls whipping wildly in a frenzy as he'd slam you hard in a rapid tempo from underneath him with your ass in the air with your beautiful breast bouncing in view.

You'd toss your head back as a low moan left your parted lips. You fucked yourself on him eagerly, your ass would jiggled every time the tip of his cock prodded in and out as if it had a mind of its own. He press your small body into the mattress, a hand holding a fistful of those gorgeous curls and another firm smack to that perky rear for being such a disobedient girl as your greedy pussy clenched, fluttering around him tightly ready to milk him for everything he had...

He swore under his breath.

'That. That would feel magnificent.' He concluded as he sighed with content.

His thoughts were interrupted at the sound of an inpatient huff.

The view had not changed, still your annoying pretty face that infuriated him beyond anything. But he'd be lying if he said a stubborn girl like you didn't excite him. He wondered how you tasted, but he had no doubt you'd look amazing sitting on his face. Perhaps you'd be the first woman to be given that honor.

"Come back over here." He ordered with a deep tone, his dominating voice returning.

You stuck your nose into the air, pouting with a sneer, folding arms with a 'Hmph!'

His mouth set in a tight line. A muscle jumped in his cheek, irritation rising.

His body held a sense of command and forcefulness as he cocked his head toward his lap, making clear he wanted your ass on it.

He stared, unblinking. "C'mere."

You stood silently, meeting his crimson gaze head on and shook your head, "Hell. No."

There it was, again. The stubbornness. The defiance. Sukuna drew in a sharp breath, annoyed. "Hmmm. Okay..."

🌸—Sorry Sukuna’s harassing y’all—but let’s be honest, I think we’d all let him.

A Rose in A Gilded Cage

All rights reserved © 2025 KawaiiBlossoms. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

[googleitlol]

Finally at the Red Boy arc! I'm so excited to release the gremlin child muahahahaha!

I may have taken some inspiration from my own younger siblings (I have like 6 or smt? idk) when it came to writing Red Boy, so I'm excited to finally have him in the fic!

Dove Masterlist:

Feetus Yeeted

A chill sends goosebumps up your arms, the cool autumn air a frosty reminder of the weather to come. Dew shines on the sparse patches of grass on the mountain road you travel, the trees lining the path few and far between. Their branches are bare, some still clinging to the few rust-coloured leaves they have left, those that had already fallen drift through the breeze.

Your group marches up the path, somewhat groggy from your early-morning hike. Wujing guides Ao lie with Tripitaka on his back, Wukong floating by his side on his cloud while you and Bajie bring up the rear.

Pigsy readjusts the group’s luggage in his hold, huffing a bit as he does. “Master, you really should have considered staying in that Black Rooster Kingdom. Think of the luxuries we could have now if we stayed there.”

Sandy looks back at the pig demon with a laugh. “Brother, you know Master would never think of accepting such an offer.”

“Wujing is right, I intend to see our pilgrimage through to the end. Nothing could defer me from that.” Tripitaka hums, keeping his attention on the road ahead.

“Besides, that demon had the entire royal court wrapped around his finger.” You look over to your friend to add to the conversation. “I don’t think I could live there either, not after what they went through.”

You glance up to see what Monkey has to contribute, only to notice his eyes practically glued to the sky. It’s hard not to give him a bit of a funny look. Is he lost in thought? There doesn’t seem to be anything interesting going on up there, what else could he be doing?

Before you can ask what is on the simian’s mind, he gives a shout. “Master, get down! Now!” He leaps off his cloud and tackles Tripitaka off the horse. At his warning, you quickly take your bow into your hands while Bajie equips his rake. Sandy stands in front of the group, ready to defend his master while you search the skies for the incoming threat.

…But there is no threat. Not that you can see.

Your confusion seems to be shared as Pigsy frowns, his head whipping back and forth in anticipation for an incoming strike that never arrives. “…Are we under attack?”

Silence stretches over your group before Wukong looks back up at the sky, frowning a bit as he sees what you all do, nothing. “Huh, looks like we scared them off. It’s okay now.” He shrugs, getting back onto his feet and dusting himself off.

Tripitaka looks up at him from the ground, his expression emitting the same level of confusion you feel. “What did you see?”

“It was like some big ball of fire!” The monkey answers, keeping his eyes on the sky as he helps his master up. “It was coming right for us, it’s a good thing I saw it when I did.”

You share a look with the rest of your friends, disbelief evident on all of you. There was no ball of fire that you could see, and from the looks on his brother’s faces, Sun Wukong seems to be the only one to have seen it. You know he has the best vision in your group, but you’re unsure how all of you could have missed something that would be so eye-catching.

Tripitaka clears his throat, his smile a little worried. “Thank you, Pilgrim Sun… but if it’s alright, can I get back on the horse now?”

“Of course! I’ll just keep an eye out for any more fireballs.” He helps the monk back onto his horse before jumping back onto his cloud.

The monk looks at his disciple from the side of his eye, chuckling with a bit of unease. “Okay, then.”

With the matter… somewhat resolved, your group carries on with the morning, hiking up the mountain while Sun Wukong keeps an eye out for whatever he saw.

Just when your mind is ready to put aside the oddity of the moment, a voice echoes through the mountain. It’s faint, but enough for Tripitaka to look up in response. “Do you hear that?” He asks, looking around in worry. You do the same, a focused frown taking over your features as you strain to hear it.

Pigsy shifts the weight of the luggage around as he joins you in your attempts to find the source. “Is someone calling for help?”

“I don’t hear anything.” Wukong frowns, his cloud slowing to a stop.

You hear it again, the voice almost shrill. “It sounds like someone might be in trouble.” You take a step, but before you can transform to take flight, Wukong grabs your arm.

“Why don’t I go check it out?” He smiles, taking you a bit off guard. The Monkey King, offering to help a stranger without Tripitaka asking him to? “You all keep moving, I’ll catch up in a bit.”

He leaves no room for argument, his cloud soaring up high and quickly out of sight. Once he does, you share a bit of a confused look with the rest of your friends. “I’m not the only one who thinks he’s being weird, right? Is letting him go off right now a good idea?” You ask the group, Tripitaka, Pigsy, and Sandy all mumbling their responses.

“I am too tired to bother thinking about it too hard.”

“It scares me when he acts strange like that.”

“As long as he comes back without any blood on his clothes, we should be fine.”

You sigh, looking back at where you had last seen the monkey, doing your best to put aside your concerns before continuing on the road.

Despite the slower pace you take to wait for your friend, the walk goes by in a bit of a blur. You stay behind the others, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sage as you walk. When you eventually do, he jumps down next to you and dismounts his cloud. The piece of sky dissipates as you take in the lack of blood stains on his person, a good sign.

He dusts himself off while everyone else turns back to hear of his findings. “I didn’t see anything, I couldn’t even make out whatever distress calls you were hearing.” Wukong explains, resting his hands on his sides.

Tripitaka frowns before looking up. You do the same, realising you too hear nothing now. Strange, you didn’t go too far. The monk hums as he realises the same thing you do. “Hm, I don’t either.”

You look back at Wukong, your eyes searching for any tells on his face. You’ve seen him put on acts before, and this didn’t feel like the great sage you’ve spent the last couple of years with. Though, he hasn’t quite been himself for some time now.

Since your time being temporarily engaged to Jian Yu, he’s been… what’s the word, jumpy? It’s the best description you can think of, maybe aside from ‘on edge’. Especially when it comes to strangers on the road. The monkey demon always became dismissive around newcomers, doing his best to end encounters as quickly as possible.

Originally, his behaviour led you to believe he was acting like this because those strangers were demons in disguise, but that was almost never the case. You would ask him after parting ways with these strangers, but he would say they were regular travellers without a single malicious bone in their body! Even after confirming these strangers were harmless, it didn’t stop him from acting– maybe the best word to describe it is protective.

You’ve mentioned your thoughts on the matter to Wujing before, thinking he would have some insightful words to share on the matter, but he seemed almost oblivious to the change in your friend.

You cast the monkey man with a careful look once the group resumes the journey, Wukong now hanging back with you behind the others. His expression seems focused, but on what, you cannot say. His gaze is still fixed to the sky “Are you alright?”

The question is enough to get him to turn his eyes over to you, his focus masked with a smile. “Just peachy, why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, I’m just hoping you didn’t find whoever was screaming and kill them.” You hum, looking ahead to the rest of your friends while you talk.

Wukong scoffs playfully. “Please, do you think I would be able to clean all the blood off myself so quickly?”

“I did take note of the lack of stains.” You smile, peeking at him from the side of your vision.

He returns the look to you, but it doesn’t stay long. “Just, uh, stay close to Master, will you? I don’t have a good feeling about this mountain and it will be easier for me if you’re together.”

The request is enough to make you chuckle, what does he mean by that? Does he really think he has to worry over both you and Tripitaka? “You don’t have to worry about me, Monkey-Man. Or, did you forget about how we fought the Yellow-Robe Demon together? Or what about the battle with the Gold and Silver-Horned brothers?” You remind him, watching carefully for his response.

He looks away at the reminders, scratching the back of his head as he does. “I know, but I would still feel better knowing I could protect you both.”

You can’t help but frown a bit. Does he not think you are capable of protecting yourself? His job is to tend to Tripitaka, not fret over you. This is the exact kind of thing he’s been doing recently, you wish you could know why he’s been acting like this.

Still, if staying near the monk would help him to focus on his actual job, then you could deal with his somewhat-offensive request. That way, you’ll also be closer to stop any threats yourself. “Alright, if it helps you relax a bit, I will.” You smile, moving up to catch up with the rest of the group.

Part of you wants to question your friend on his recent behaviour, but you suppose it would be better to wait. With how anxious he seems at the moment, any attempt to prod at him for information will be fruitless. Maybe after you all rest for a meal, or if you find a good place to set up camp later in the day.

It can be a little difficult to understand Sun Wukong. He is incredibly cunning, you actually admire his wit and strategic mind. However, he has this nasty habit of explaining his process of thought after he’s already started whatever course of action he believes is best. He tends to be right, but leaves the rest of you in the dark with little to no context for his actions. Now, with how he’s been acting, it’s been even more difficult to understand what has been going on in his mind.

Before you can delve any deeper into thought, Wukong’s voice snaps you back into reality. “Master, get down!” He shouts, jumping into action yet again and pulling the monk off Ao Lie by his leg. Everyone quickly jumps into position again, and you stand over the two on the ground protectively with Bajie and Wujing at your side. The arrow on your bowstring draws back, ready to fire at any incoming enemy.

But there is no enemy, not that you can see. Wukong looks up with a frown, scanning the skies for whatever he might have seen. “Huh, I guess it was another false alarm.”

Tripitaka pushes his disciple off of him, casting the demon with a sour look. “Wukong, do you have to knock me off the horse every time you think you see something?! I’d rather not taste any dirt in my mouth.”

“Sorry, Master, it was that fireball again!” Wukong explains while standing back up, offering his master a hand to help him up as well.

Pigsy leans over to you and Wujing as Wukong helps the man up. “It sounds like someone is losing it.”

Sandy shakes his head. “Brother Sun has the best sight out of all of us. Maybe he just thought something was closer than it really is.” The three of you look over to the oldest disciple as he looks up to the sky, his eyes narrowed.

“…Maybe.” You hum, hoping for the sake of your group that it must be the case.

You’re not given much time to think about the monkey any more before you hear a voice calling again. “Help, please!”

“I know I heard somebody that time.” You didn’t imagine it. Not only that, the voice sounds even closer now. Whoever this is, they sound young. Really young. With the life of who might possibly be a child on the line, you transform with a leap into the air to find the voice’s owner with an aerial view.

“Dove, wait!” Wukong calls for you, but you don’t bother to wait, not when a child could be in need of saving.

You fly up high, waiting to hear the voice again before flying towards it. Following the cries, you catch sight of a child tied and suspended from a tree. It’s a young boy, wailing for help as he dangles in the air. His dark hair is dishevelled, some of it obscuring his face. He doesn’t look much older than seven or eight years old, and he’s bruised and beaten all over.

Who could have hurt this poor boy?! You act quickly, landing atop his shoulder and alerting him to your presence. Before he can panic, you begin to use your gift to soothe him. His cries falter, the boy’s head turning to look up at you as you calm him down.

“Huh… what?” He sniffles, confusion evident on his face. “What is this?”

Once he is calm enough, you fly up onto the branch he is suspended from and return to your normal form. “It is alright, child. I will get you down from here.”

The boy looks up at you with his mouth agape, his eyes as wide as his open mouth. All he manages to do is stare for a moment. “Wha– what did you do to me? Are you a goddess under the guise of a bird?” He asks, and you can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face from the question.

“I am nothing of the sort, but that does not mean I can’t help a stranger in need.” You answer. Taking the rope in hand, you pull the boy up– he’s surprisingly light– until he is sitting on the branch with you.

Just as you begin to untie the boy, Wukong’s voice calls out in a panic. “Dove, what are you doing?!” You look up to find your friends rushing to the tree you rest on, the others sharing a look of confusion while Sun Wukong narrows his gaze up at you and the boy.

“What does it look like I’m doing?!” You shout back as they approach, working at the knots keeping the rope together before they begin to slacken around the boy.

Once your friends are close enough and you free the boy of his restraints, you’re able to hand the child to Sandy and get him down to the ground. The river demon is careful to set him down gently. “What happened to you, child?” He asks as you climb down from the tree.

The boy rubs his arms, which are covered in red marks from the rope. “My home was plundered by thieves and bandits.” He explains, looking between you and the rest of your friends. “They killed my father and took my mother with them! They wanted to kill me as well, but my mother convinced them to spare me. They are the ones who left me tied to this tree to die from starvation and exposure.”

You frown as he tells his story, your heart aching for the boy. Losing your family so suddenly is something you can understand. He doesn’t even look much younger than you were when your village was attacked. This poor boy has gone through so much.

You look up at Tripitaka, the man looking down at the child with a look of sympathy. When he catches your eye, he nods, almost reading your mind. With his agreement, you crouch down to the boy. “Tell us, what is your name?”

“I am called Red Boy, Miss.” He replies, and you offer him a kind smile.

You pat his shoulder lightly. “Alright, Red Boy, I’m sure we can help you.”

The boy’s face brightens, but before he can respond, Sun Wukong hums aloud. “Are we sure we believe him?”

Your head swivels back to face him, the others all sharing your look of bewilderment as he continues. “I mean, look at him. He’s just been made an orphan and he can’t even bother to cry about it.”

His reasoning earns him wide-eyed looks of shock from everyone. “I already used my gift to calm him down… why would you say something so–” You can’t even find the words, unsure of how to respond. How can you respond to that?!

Wukong’s tail flicks in annoyance as you rise to stand again. “What are we meant to do with him? He can’t join us, and it isn’t as though we can burden the next person we find with some boy.”

“I still have my maternal family!” Red Boy quickly speaks up. “My aunties are just north of this mountain, and I have cousins there as well. If you could take me to them, I am sure they can reward you for your services. They have plenty of food, and can give you jewellery a-and whatever you want!”

Wukong steps forward, crouching down to face the boy directly now. “How do we know what your saying is the truth? Or that your little fable is even real?”

“Wukong!” You shoot the monkey demon a glare, and he glances back with an irritated look.

“What? It doesn’t make much sense to me.” He shrugs. “His mother begs for his life, so they just leave him to suffer a slower death? I would have at least put him out of his misery–”

Even Pigsy steps in at this point. “Brother, why are you interrogating the boy? If he wants to take us to be fed by his family, I say we let him.”

“It is also the right thing to do.” Tripitaka adds on, giving his two disciples an unimpressed look.

Pigsy looks away to clear his throat. “Yes, it’s the right thing to do.”

Wukong rises to his feet with a scoff, and you can’t stop the look you give him. What is his problem? Yes, he’s been more excitable lately, but this is something else entirely.

Tripitaka rides up to the child. “Red Boy, why don’t you ride with me? You must be exhausted after everything you’ve had to endure.”

The boy looks a bit surprised at the offer, but quickly looks away. “Um, I don’t know. I have never ridden on horseback before.”

The monk nods with a smile. “That is alright, would you like one of my disciples to carry you?”

At his offer, the boy’s eyes brighten a bit. Surprisingly, so does Wukong’s. “Master, I can–”

“Can the woman carry me?” Red Boy asks, cutting off the sage before he can finish. “She was the one who found me, I like her.” He looks over to you with a wide smile, either unaware of or ignoring the glare Wukong gives him when he asks.

You give him a bit of a surprised look yourself, not expecting the request. Tripitaka lets out a bit of an awkward laugh. “She isn’t one of my disciples.”

Wukong huffs, very clearly annoyed. “Just let me carry you, boy, I am much stronger than my brothers. Besides, I can carry you for much longer than Dove could.” He offers, and you feel your brow twitch at his last comment.

His little, ‘stay close to Tripitaka for me’ request was one thing, but that hit a nerve. “I can carry you, Red Boy, I don’t mind.” You smile at the child, his eyes lighting up when you do.

You make eye contact with Sun Wukong as you kneel down for the boy to get onto your back. “I’m much stronger than I look.” Pigsy does his best to conceal a snort of laughter, Sandy doing a bit better than him while Wukong flares his nostrils in irritation.

Ignoring his huffing and puffing, you rise to your feet. With the boy now on your back, you continue your hike through the mountain with your friends, Wukong lagging behind while his brothers walk up front with Tripitaka and you just behind them. As you all walk, you find yourself in conversation with the very curious Red Boy.

“If you’re not a goddess, then what are you?” He asks, laying his head down on your shoulder as you walk.

“I am a human, the same as you.”

“What did you do to me in the tree?”

“I only did what I could to calm you down, it’s a gift I’ve been given by my master.”

“How long have you had it?”

“Since I was a little girl. About your age, I think.”

The boy’s wide-eyed look he gives you from over your shoulder warms your heart a bit. “Incredible! You know, Miss, I have never felt such a tranquil feeling in my life!”

“You speak quite well for a young boy.” You note, amused by his excitement.

“I have been told I am very mature for my age.” He beams, making you laugh.

“You sound like it.” You return the look before hearing Bajie chuckle from in front of you.

He nudges Sandy’s arm, and the two look back at you. “It looks as though our feathered friend has found herself a fan.” He muses, and you notice him look back at Sun Wukong. You hear the older disciple grumble something under his breath, and although you can’t make out the words, Red Boy looks back at him and snickers.

Your brow furrows a bit. “What’s so funny, Red Boy?”

“Your monkey friend amuses me.” He admits, and you look over your shoulder at him with some confusion. Despite all the aggression from him, Red Boy doesn’t seem all that frightened of Sun Wukong.

His answer only seems to aggravate the Monkey King even more. “Oh, yeah? What do you find so amusing about me?”

“Your face is very comical.” Red Boy’s blunt answer earns a snort of laughter from you, the response more out of how unexpected his words are. He really does not hold back from saying what he thinks. “I have never seen such a terrifyingly angry expression, it’s almost hilarious.”

Wukong doesn’t seem to find his words as amusing as you do. “Trust me, kid, I can make it scarier.”

“Okay, let’s not fight with the child.” You roll your eyes. Part of you wants to join in on teasing your friend to get a laugh out of the kid, but it’s clear Monkey wouldn’t take it well at the moment. This entire detour with the boy has him in a bad mood.

He grunts at your dismissal, his tail flicking once more. Red Boy watches him for a moment, eyes studying the monkey demon before his eyebrows shoot up in some sort of realisation. “Ohh, I understand. You are upset because you just want the woman to yourself.”

You trip over your own feet at his words, barely catching yourself to stop the both of you from crashing to the ground. Wujing hunches over into a coughing fit when he hears the boy, Pigsy choking back laughter while Tripitaka looks back at him in bewilderment, slack-jawed.

Despite the violent effect of his words on your friends and the violent shade of red on your face, he continues, now whispering into your ear. “My mother always told me that men want only one thing, especially demon men like him.” He looks back at Sun Wukong, who you can’t even turn to for the moment from the embarrassment alone.

Despite the shock of his words, you do your best to regain your composure. “I think you misunderstand, Red Boy.”

He puts his head back on your shoulder, with a face so innocent you can hardly believe such accusations are coming out of it. “You should be careful, Miss. You seem like such a caring person, it has to be a miracle that a demon like him hasn’t given into his evil urges–”

The boy doesn’t get a chance to continue before he’s ripped away from your back. You stumble onto the ground from the action, and before you have the chance to find your bearings, Sun Wukong lifts Red Boy into the air and throws him down the mountain.

“Good riddance.” Wukong snarls, the silence that follows his words are deafening. You stare up at him in shock, at a complete loss for words as he watches the boy fall, the wind howling after him.

When you finally let the moment sink in, you jump back to your feet, wind howling in your ears. “Wukong! What the hell have you done?!”

“Me?!” He looks back at you, clearly offended. “What were you all doing?! That child was a demon in disguise!”

“What?” You frown, the Monkey King grumbling with impatience.

“I would have taken care of him more gracefully, but that brat couldn’t help running his disgusting little mouth.” He rests his hands on his sides, his actions from today now making sense.

A few autumn leaves rush by in the wind as you let out a tired sigh and Sandy steps in. “Why didn’t you say anything before?!”

He scoffs. “Would you have believed me?”

“Yes!” His eyes widen a bit at your exasperated response. “We’ve come far enough on this journey that I trust your judgement, Wukong! If you say someone is a demon, we'll believe you, but you have to be clear and actually say something. Throwing what we think is a little boy off a mountain might give Tripitaka and I heart failure before we reach the scriptures!”

You step back to take a breath, Wukong quiet in response to your lecturing. So many things just happened, you need a minute to recollect your thoughts. You barely even processed what Red Boy was saying before he was ripped from your back. It was all so embarrassing, you can still feel the warmth in your cheeks. Demon or not, that was– gah!

“Uh, guys?” Pigsy pulls you from your thoughts, a frown set in his features. “Is it just me, or is it getting darker?”

The group joins him in observing the sky, the wind picking up even more. You have to shield your face from the gale that pushes past you, your heart sinking as you spot dark clouds circling from above. The sun disappears, shrouding everything in darkness just as more leaves start to pick up off the ground, obscuring your vision. You look to and fro wildly for sight of your friends as the winds grow more violent. It’s a struggle to keep your footing as the invisible force pushes you back.

The sound of Tripitaka’s screams make your heart race. Turning to the source of his cries, you are able to make out a vague silhouette of Ao Lie. Tripitaka is no longer on the horse, his hands barely hanging onto the reins as his body is pulled upwards to the dark clouds. “Tripitaka!”

“Master!” You hear Wukong somewhere to your right before he rushes past you. He seems to be the only one able to push through the wind, Sandy and Pigsy struggling to keep their footing as much as you are. You try your best to move towards the flying monk, fighting the wind at each step.

You’re hardly able to make any progress before ducking your head down to shield your face from loose pebbles and twigs, all flying through the wind haphazardly. Just as you go to take another step, you feel the wind push back against you rougher than before, shoving you off balance enough to make you tumble back.

A shout escapes from you as you fall, but you never make contact with the ground. Instead, you feel yourself lifting higher, twisting and turning with no control over where you go.

“Dove!” Wukong’s voice is faint, accompanied by the thunder of the wind carrying you into the air. You can just make out a figure rushing towards you, Sun Wukong’s hand outstretched. Your hand reaches out for his, so close you can almost touch. But he’s too far.

His fingers just brush your own before you’re thrusted up into the sky. Wukong’s silhouette grows smaller before vanishing completely, obscured by the hordes of debris flying amidst your now darkened world. You shield your face again to protect it before quickly peeking out for any sign of something stable to hold onto. With how much the wind is tossing you about, it’s difficult to maintain any sense of where the ground is.

In the midst of your tumbling through the air, you hear Tripitaka calling out for you and the others. You call out for him, reaching out blindly in the hopes that you are close enough to hold onto each other. Luckily enough, you find a hand to hold, it grabs you firmly the second you make contact. The wave of confidence is short-lived, though, when you realise the hand is too small to be Tripitaka.

It’s too late, you feel yourself being pulled sharply in one direction. In a flash, your surroundings morph, the wind suddenly dropping as you feel yourself roll onto the ground of a hard stone floor. The darkness and debris clouding your vision is replaced with the dim light of torches, the air in whatever cave you now appear to be in is dry and hot.

With a grunt, Tripitaka falls a little ways next to you, landing on his side. “Tripitaka!” You rush over to make sure he’s okay, looking for any injuries as he pushes himself to sit up. He looks at you, confused, and before either of you can say another word, you’re alerted to the presence of another by the sound of their cackling.

“He tried to throw me!” You act quickly, pulling out your dagger and putting a protective arm around the monk as you turn to face your unwanted company. Before you, the boy from before stands with his arms crossed, different than before. His dark hair is now a fiery red that reaches down his back, thick and wild. Bullish horns poke through the top of his head. His ears also now resemble that of a bull, with a thin tail whipping behind him to match. His tattered clothes are now replaced with a dark red kilt, a few scorch marks darkening the material in different spots.

The demon child barks out a laugh. “I knew that ape had to be brash, but trying to kill me before I even did anything?!” His grin stretches from ear to ear and you frown a bit as you look at the boy who stands several metres away from you and Tripitaka.

Yes, this is a demon… but he’s just some kid. What are you meant to do in this situation, fight a child? Put him on a time-out? You glance back at Tripitaka, the monk looking just as confused as you are. Child or not, you can’t imagine the boy has taken the two of you here without malicious intent. “I don’t think you have much room to talk, kid. Haven’t you heard it’s rude to play tricks on people?”

Red Boy snickers. “Not when it comes to food, Miss. Father says anything goes for food. He’ll love that I caught the Golden Cicada!” He beams, eyes practically sparkling as he stares down your friend.

The two of you rise to your feet with your dagger still in hand, Tripitaka frowning a bit at the boy while you scan the area for an exit. “You… you want to eat us?” 

Whatever cave you seem to be in, you notice natural light pouring in from an opening just behind the demon boy. “You sound surprised.” He tilts his head a bit to the side. “I’ve had my underlings tell me all about you, Tang Monk. Word travels fast, and I have heard all about your travels on your pursuit to the Thunderclap Monastery. It’s too bad you’ll never make it.” He shrugs, uncaring for your situation.

“That’s enough.” You keep a hand over Tripitaka’s shoulder as you stare down the child. “If you’ve heard of our travels, you know we’ve taken care of plenty of other demons like you.”

The boy flashes a knowing smile. “Oh, I’m not like the demons you’ve already met.” He giggles, his laughter a bizarre mix of sinister and extremely gleeful. “Besides, you don’t have to worry, Miss. I won’t eat you if you don’t want me to.”

Huh. “What.”

“I just want you to do what you did before! I’ve never felt anything like it!” He exclaims, his eyes almost sparkling with a childish glee that confused your already-overworking head. The way he speaks seems so innocent, but his words are packed with evil intent.

Frowning a bit at the boy, you take a step closer and gesture to Tripitaka from behind your back to start moving towards what you assume is the cave entrance. “…Really?”

“Yes!” He smiles widely, and you take another look around the cave as Tripitaka starts to move.

You lower your dagger a bit and take another step towards the boy. “Where is your father?”

Red Boy’s smile drops a bit, his excitement reining in. “I will have my men send him an invitation once I’ve taken care of the monk’s disciples.”

“And your mother?” You press, and the boy looks away.

“She has business to attend to this time of year, so father and I will be dining on our own.” He explains, his posture is a bit straighter now as he smiles at you politely. “I would extend an invitation to you as well, but I assume you wouldn’t want any of the Tang Monk’s meat. You are vegetarian, aren’t you?”

…Also Tripitaka is your friend. Eating your friend is multiple layers of wrong. You glance over at the monk, now closer to the entrance and behind Red Boy’s line of sight. You intend to keep it that way, and crouch down to get onto the same eye-level as the demon child. “Are you saying you live on your own?”

The question seems to offend him, making the boy scoff. “Yes, and? I am plenty old enough to take care of myself! I’m the king of this mountain! I’ve been in command of my army since I took my first steps.” 

“…I find that hard to believe.” You frown just before the sounds of Tripitaka screaming catch both your ears.

Red Boy quickly whips around to see the monk being dragged back into the cave by two demon guards, and you curse to yourself under your breath. The demon child frowns. “Where do you think you’re–”

Before he can finish, you drape the boy up into your arms, pressing the dagger to his throat. “Release the monk!” You shout to the demon guards, both of them freezing at your sudden action while you try not to think of how strange it feels to be threatening a little kid.

“Let go of me!” Red Boy shouts, squirming in an attempt to get out of your hold, his hands trying to pull at your arm.

You keep your grip on the boy firm. “I will put you down once your underlings let go of the Tang Monk.” You try to reassure him, glaring at the two demons. “Do it!”

The guards remain still, their eyes trained onto their child boss. You see Tripitaka’s face drop, and before you can react to the growing warmth emitting from Red Boy’s hand, scarlet flames shoot from his mouth. “I said, let go!” The fire shoots at your arm holding up the boy, making you shout out in pain before dropping him. Your dagger falls to the ground as you clutch your arm close to your person. The boy scrambles back over to his men, casting you with a look of betrayal. 

“Ugh, that was rude!” He sneers before looking up at his men. “Lock them both up! We have to get ready for when the others arrive.” He orders them, the men quickly jumping into action. One grabs you by your uninjured arm, pulling you over before him and his fellow guard drag you further into the cave.

You wince, looking down at the burn on your arm. A little demon kid that breathes fire, huh? That is a first. You’re gonna have to be smart to get out of this one.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

A Little Much

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

Fluff, Evie and Astarion have self worth issues, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: It’s Evie’s first ball after the fall of the Netherbrain and somehow, facing down Baldur’s Gate elites feels more terrifying.

A/N: I’m alive! I know this hasn’t been requested by anybody but sometimes you need to ride the inspiration. And reminder to please COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS I NEED VALIDATION TO LIVE!!!

Word Count: 1.7k

“What about this one?” the tailor said, his tone starting to strain. “It’s a lovely color for your complexion.”

Evie didn’t say anything, running the fabric through their fingers. It was just about the finest fabric they ever felt. A small pang of guilt twisted inside them for simply touching it, as if their calloused fingers would somehow damage the smooth threads. Carefully, they let it back down on the table next to the pile of other rejected fabrics.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Astarion said. “Cliche as it may be to say, blue truly does bring out your eyes.”

Evie shifted, the familiar anxiety they’d been experiencing for the last two hours rising in their gut.

“I’m not sure,” they said, trying to sound discerning. “Maybe something a little more…simple?”

The tailor’s lips turned into a hard line. Evie had the distinct impression that if they were not the literal hero of Baldur’s Gate, he would have kicked them out ages ago. He must really need the commission.

“Simple,” he repeated, sharply. “Very well, I’ll see what I can find.”

Without even bothering to pick up the bolt of fabric, he spun on his heel and disappeared into the backroom.

Evie let out a short breath of relief. This whole song and dance had been going on for far too long. First ball or not, there had to be a simpler way. After the next round of samples they’d say they need to think about it and leave. It may be in rough shape, but their performance dress could still do in a pinch. Maybe they could convince Astarion to spruce it up.

As if feeling their thoughts turn in his direction, Astarion moved closer leaning into their ear. “I think you’re going to drive that man to baldness.”

Evie gave what they hoped was a nonchalant shrug. “Not baldness. Grayness, perhaps. His head is fairly well preserved.”

“Either way, he’s cursing your name.” He took up one of the other swatches, a dark blue patterned with silver stars, and examined it with an artful eye. “I still think you would look lovely in this. Not the whole dress, mind you, but for the bodice at least.”

They smiled a little at that. An image of a gown came easily into their mind, although not as detailed as they were sure Astarion could picture it: something grand and striking, something a princess would wear waiting for a knight to rescue them. And with that thought, the fantasy ended.

“I think it’s a bit much for my taste,” Evie said. “Might suit you though. I know you prefer red, but you truly look well in just about any color.”

They glanced over at Astarion expecting to catch him mid preen. Instead, his gaze was solely on them, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

“What?”

“Do you actually want to go to this ball?” he said, suddenly.

Evie straightened in surprise. “Of course, what are you talking about?”

“I am talking about that infuriating thing you do when you technically agree to something by not disagreeing before dragging your feet at every step.”

“I don’t–.” They stopped at the side eye Astarion was giving them. It was something they were working on.

“That’s not what’s happening,” Evie corrected.

“Enlighten me then.”

They shifted their stance, suddenly feeling very hot all over. When did it get so stuffy?

“It’s just…it’s all a bit much, isn’t it?”

“The ball?”

“No. I mean, yes, a bit, but this.” They waved their hand around the shop. “He’s charging twenty gold a yard for some of this. And that’s just the fabric, let alone the labor cost. And it’s not as if I’ll ever wear it again. I mean, how many balls can I expect to attend in one lifetime?”

“So, you’d rather wear something you already own?” Astarion questioned with clear judgment in his tone.

Evie’s lips pressed into a line, their defenses rising. “It’s not as scandalous as all that.”

“Only if you want to dress like the entertainment.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “so long as you don’t mind being the entertainment. Or at minimum have people handing you their used cups all evening.”

Evie bit back a groan of frustration. He really didn’t understand.

“I just think it’s all rather frivolous,” they vented.

“You think fashion is frivolous?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you implied.”

“I didn’t–.” They stopped, taking a deep breath. This wasn’t going how they wanted it to go. They just wanted to leave and not have to think about hundreds of eyes on them whispering speculations about who they were and where they came from. They almost wished they were the entertainment. It would be more honest and they’d walk out with well earned gold in their pocket.

“Look, I know dressing well is important to you,” they said, carefully. “I know that choice is important to you, but it’s just not to me. I don’t need to make a statement outside of my performances. As soon as I’m off that stage, I am perfectly content for people to stop looking at me.”

Astarion scoffed. “Then you’ve somehow missed the point of the evening. People are going to be looking ,whether you want them to or not. The only thing you have control over is what they see.”

Evie glanced away. He was right, of course. They had wanted to focus on the other aspects of the evening; seeing their friends again, free food, listening to music instead of playing it for once, just seeing how the other half lived. They should have known it would come with a price.

“Well then maybe it is best if I skip it.”

It was a testament to how much effort Astarion was putting into understanding that he didn’t just throw his hands up in frustration. He did, however, get in one exasperated sigh.

“What are you so afraid of them seeing?”

A mouse. A rat. A thief. Gur scum. Unclean. Unworthy. Wrong.

It must have shown on their face as Astarion touched their chin, turning them back to him.

“None of that,” he said, his tone suddenly serious.

Evie didn’t really know what to say. They just knew they couldn’t bring themselves to look directly at him.

Astarion, however, didn’t falter. “You’ve been my mirror in more ways than I’d like to admit. Do you wish to know what I see?”

“I’ve got a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

His face lit up with pride. “There’s my love. Let’s start with that deceptively smart tongue disguised by a very pleasant mouth.”

“Pleasant mouth?”

“Very,” he insisted. “Now let’s see…a nose that one might describe as too long for your face, but actually proportions your features quite well when taken all together. I think it’s the little bump that does it. Good hair with some potential. You are with me after all darling. It’s hard to compete with perfection.”

“I think you’re losing the point of this exercise.”

“I’m not finished. I haven’t even gotten to those two near supernaturally blue eyes of yours. They are always so much more endearing when they’re trying to be annoyed with me.”

Evie tried to glare, they really did, but their smile gave them away.

Astarion’s own grin only widened. “And don’t even get me started on your truly lovely skin and even more enticing neck.”

“Careful my love, you’re starting to drool,” they teased.

He answered by pulling them to him, playfully nipping their neck with a growl.

“Astarion!” They laughed.

“Don’t interrupt me,” he said before moving his lips to their ear. “You’re so much more than all of them.”

Evie’s brows furrowed as they felt the air shift. His tone was softer now and all the more serious for it.

“Even before you saved everyone in this miserable city, you were worth more than any of the fools who thought they were superior because they were the ones to put coin in your purse. If the world actually judged people by the things that mattered, near everyone would question their worthiness to even speak with you. I know I do.”

They felt their heart clench, turning their head to catch their love’s eye. “Astarion…”

He gave them a half smile. “Not to worry darling, it’s only in moments. It’s comforting to remind myself that you’re not infallible. You did make the very foolish decision of choosing me after all. Besides, I’m selfish by nature. I’m not about to do something noble like let you go to find someone better.”

He left his voice light, but Evie could feel the weight of his fears. It had faded for the last few months, but still lingered. Time was the only cure for it. And Evie intended to give him as much as it took.

“I’m holding you to that,” they said.

Astarion watched them a moment, surprise flashing across his features before settling into something much more self satisfied.

Evie felt the need to say something to keep him from getting down right smug, but the kiss he placed on their lips quickly evaporated those notions. He was just as relieved to hear their words and they were to hear his.

They held each other close, even as their lips drifted apart content to stay in their own little bubble for a few moments longer.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want,” Astarion murmured, “but don’t let what other people think stop you. They’re not worth the consideration.”

Evie took a breath, finally letting his words settle. They wouldn’t be alone. Astarion would be with them, and Wyll and Karlach and Gale and Shadowheart and Lae’zel; really the only people whose opinion mattered. How could anyone make them feel small with love like that?

“Alright,” Evie conceded. “I might need to borrow your eye though. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“Gladly, so long as I don’t catch you squirming thinking about how much it’s all going to cost,” Astarion countered.

“I will…try.”

He beamed and Evie could already feel their last few coppers clinking together. They pushed it aside though. Their purse might regret it but they would not. If there was ever a reason to celebrate, the knowledge of never being alone again seemed just about the best.

[plisuu]

Happy DADWC! From the Yearning prompt list: you need someone. let me be that person. let me be what you need. For Connor x Solas. I think it fits given the events of Trespasser and afterwards. If the inspiration strikes though! Happy writing!

Thank you for the prompt! I come bearing some post-Veilguard sad soggy yearning.

wc: 380 @dadrunkwriting - veilguard

“You thought I’d just… let you go? After everything?”

Solas stopped, frozen in his tracks. The Black City was a mere step away.

“You always were stubborn, vhenan,” he murmured.

Behind him, Connor flickered in and out of the Fade, visiting through a dream rather than the physical existence Solas now bore. But he was still there, somehow. Solas anchored himself to where he stood. He could not go back now.

“You want to hide, haggard and hurt—the wolf licks his wounds alone. But you don’t have to be alone.”

“Cole,” Solas sighed. “I told you—”

“I asked him to bring me here. And he’s right. You don’t need to do this alone. You shouldn’t do this alone. I may not be… I know I’m not…” Connor’s voice faltered, just slightly. “I’m just human. I don’t understand it all,” Solas could feel the shift in the Fade as Connor waved his hand behind him, gesturing at the Black City, “But I’m willing to learn. I’ve always been.”

“You know that I cannot—”

“I know that you can’t ask for help. I know that your pride would never let you. But I’m still asking, after all these years. Let me help you. If not with the Blight, or the Veil, or the Fade then… I don’t know. You don’t even have to let me help you,” his tone became more urgent, more desperate with each word. “I have nothing left to lose, Solas. The South is… Cullen is…” his voice cracked this time, a dry sob covered by a quick clearing of his throat. “I’d rather be here, anyways. And I know you. You won’t leave it at this.” He chuckled slightly, a sound devoid of any humor, edged with desperation. Solas still did not turn, did not let his posture slump, did not dare move.

“Vhenan, I—”

“Solas, please. If not for you, then… then for me. Please. Indulge me in this. At least with your company now and then. Something. Anything.”

The Fade echoed his plea, the ragged shudders of breath after battle filling the space between them, Connor’s resilience wavering as his dreaming form did.

“Please, think about it. Don’t suffer alone… don’t let me suffer alone.”

And then he was gone, leaving Solas in heavy silence.

[stormdash2]

Some Archie Character Reboot Ideas.

I've been thinking more about the return of Sally and The Freedom Fighters. Be it another reboot, a revival, a new show, IDW or even the games.

These are some ideas that have come to mind for me on any possibility.

First there's Nicole.

If Nicole got rebooted in any shape or form, I can see her as a hacker who assists Sally against Eggman in many ways. I also see her as a bit of a shut-in, due to her past prior to being adopted by Sally's family.

She strikes me as someone who could be socially awkward, and I imagine that in this timeline, she'd be an adopted sister for Sally, and fully Mobian rather than a computer.

I can imagine Sally being the only person she's comfortable talking to, but anyone else would be met with hesitation. As an homage to her shut in nature, I could see her using holograms or radios to speak with others, akin to how she first appeared.

If anyone could get Nicole to open up, it would be Sonic himself. He's very good at talking to others, when he wants to be. He's not the best for conversation himself, but his kind nature would be alluring for someone like Nicole who could just use some comforting words.

Nicole's backstory of being a shut-in hacker is partially inspired by a Persona 5 character by the name of Futaba Sakura.

A good friend could go a long way. I wouldn't mind if Sonic played the role that Ren Amamiya/Joker played in getting the shy girl to open up. Soon Nicole could have friends like Tails and Amy, just like Futaba eventually had friends in The Phantom Thieves.

I do feel like Bunnie's cybernetics would be Wispons this time around rather than actual cybernetics. It would fit the current direction that Sega is going. Just keep her southern charm, and you have potential for something good.

I can't see Antoine ever using a laser sword, even in a reboot he will stick with a classic sword. He believed his sword to be superior to the Z-Saber that Zero uses, and Zero is an iconic Mega Man character who's strong enough in his own right. That speaks volumes of Antoine's confidence in a sword.

I also believe that Monkey Khan should return somehow. Given that Chun-Nan exists, he could easily come back as a resident of that country, or even the Ruler of Land here. He has a lot of potential as a character.

Give him his own Freedom Fighters too, like the ones from the Archie Reboot.

If anything, they could borrow much more from Sun Wukong, the very character he's based off of. Imagine him going against Gaia the way Sun Wukong would against any deity that defied him.

Of course the Freedom Fighter story would just be an origin of them wanting to keep their town safe during the Phantom Ruby Incident. I imagine Sally has seen Infinite on multiple occasions.

Sonic Forces was just made for the Freedom Fighters' potential return. The fact that Sally and Bunnie cameoed in one of the comics is proof of that. Pictures only, but still worth mentioning.

And of course The Freedom Fighters would be allies with The Diamond Cutters should they appear in IDW. I can even imagine Sally as a mentor figure to Lanolin. Though I imagine it would be predated by a lot of bickering. Lanolin is stubborn and doesn't always listen to others, but may come to respect Sally while Tangle just admires her and Whisper respects her.

Then there's Mina Mongoose and Fiona Fox. I imagine their stories would cross paths with one another. Mina's good nature could balance out Fiona's cynicism, while Fiona is tough enough to watch out for Mina should she be too naive.

Mina's personality would be her cheerful and loving nature, while Fiona would be a nihilist due to old traumas, but not too anti-social. She just keeps a distance from everyone, except her best friend Mina.

I can't see any romance between either of them or Sonic, and that's fine. Last time there was, both girls ended up getting screwed over somehow and mistreated.

Mina would not be a pop idol per say, but it's a dream she's working toward while Fiona is still a medic.

I can see Mina at least admiring Sonic for his free will, while Fiona may find him a bit irritating.

Out of the Diamond Cutters, I can see Mina being best friends with Tangle and the two would interact a lot. All the while, Fiona may mess with Whisper a bit, but the two may find time to bond later.

They would also befriend The Freedom Fighters and be official members. Fiona's medical skills would come in handy more but Mina has plenty to offer.

Surge and Kit would be a fun interaction. Fiona might find the duo unsettling, and a look into what life she could have had if she had not befriended Mina.

Surge's personality around Fiona could mirror Scourge. Difference is that it's less likely to be romantic, and more that Surge wants to befriend Fiona, but their friendship is very toxic.

Surge could end up jealous of the bond that Fiona and Mina have with the other Freedom Fighters, The Restoration, and Sonic's friends.

When it comes to Tails, I can see Mina really admiring his intelligence, and wanting to be his friend. She may also find him really small and cute and dote over him.

Fiona may like Tails too, but that may take time. I can see her being annoyed by him at first, likely to call him childish insults (i.e. Twerp), and just mildly bullying him. She still has a soft spot for Tails though.

Lastly when it comes to Sally herself, she is the leader of her Freedom Fighter friends in their village of Knothole. They protected their town from Infinite and Eggman to the best of their abilities.

As mentioned prior, Sally could form a bond with Lanolin and in time be one of her dearest friends.

As also mentioned before, she'd have her big sister/little sister bond with Nicole. and always be ready to protect her.

She'd be a brave girl that goes after badniks, be it with Whispons or just on her own. She might even have an intensity that rivals Princess Peach in the old comics.

Like seriously, it's easy to forget how intense Princess Peach was in the old Mario comics (Or Toadstool as she was called at the time). Imagine Sally having this type of drive. Or maybe it might be too much.

I can also imagine Sally being in the movies as a girl who met Sonic once upon a time. Maybe they were childhood friends, maybe they knew each other in passing, but should Sally ever appear in the movies, there's plenty of story to be told.

I can imagine a situation similar to the anime Zatch Bell, where Sally is the one telling Tom and the others what Sonic was like back home, as she would be the only one from Mobius to know anything about him, even if it's something minuscule, like Tia having to explain Zatch's home life to Kiyo. She didn't know everything, but she knew enough.

I don't know what will happen regarding romance. In a perfect world, Sally is with Sonic. They are, for me at least, the definitive Sonic pairing in Sonic media. Like Superman and Lois Lane. Like Spider-Man and Mary Jane Watson. Granted I prefer someone like Kitty Pride for Peter Parker, but you get my point.

Sonic and Sally are just it for me. But I know that Sega may believe differently. Be it the games, the comics, or the movies, Sonally just may never happen. That doesn't mean fans can't have some sliver of hope. Optimism is good, but be ready to accept reality.

I can see three potential replacements for Sonic if romance doesn't work out between them. Note, this is not mandatory for Sally, she doesn't need to be romantically paired off. But if they feel the need to, there are options.

First option, Monkey Khan. Back in Archie, I did not like the pairing between Sally and Ken. It was typical love triangle drama that did not need to be there.

This time around, there is no worry of that. Ken is there with his own story, and the romance thing could just be on the side or merely hinted at. If they want to go all in, they can do so without Sonic being pulled into that drama.

Option two is Mighty the Armadillo. The relationship between Sally and Mighty could mirror SatAM Sonally, without it being a complete copy. Maybe Sally's more chill, or Mighty is just a less hyper version of SatAM Sonic. Point is, there's potential.

Option three, one of my favorites, is Sally with Ray the Flying Squirrel. I feel like he'd know how to be that perfect mix of Adventurer and Freedom Fighter. He loves thrills, but shows some caution in doing so. I think Sally and Ray have potential for a good bond.

We could just skip the romance, or have Sally with a one-sided crush on Sonic. Sonic may never end up with her, but I can see something similar to Final Fantasy 7 with Cloud, Aerith and Tifa.

There was no major love triangle drama with them. Tifa and Aerith were good friends, and Cloud just have to make a choice eventually. It can be a nice running gag in the games and the comics.

None of this is fool proof, but it's better than nothing. Sometimes you just gotta take a chance, just be wise about it.

This is just more of my head canons on how to use the Freedom Fighters in the games, comics or movies. Or any other media. Perhaps one day, they truly can return.