#none of them dodged death as well as he did though
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tudor gothic:
the lord chancellor is called thomas. he runs the country. he wants no part in where england goes from now. the lord chancellor is being arrested for treason. the lord chancellor was executed. the lord chancellor was never arrested. there is no lord chancellor.
the crown is dissolving monasteries. this is standard practice. all the monasteries are shutting down. this is thomas's fault. you have no idea which thomas. the crown wants the monasteries back. the monasteries are never coming back. you visited an intact monastery just yesterday. when you blinked, the ruins gave alms to the poor.
the wars of the roses have just ended decisively. the wars of the roses have been over for decades. the legacy of civil war haunts england. you've watched shakespeare's wars of the roses plays. the wars of the roses must have been over when the throne passed peacefully to henry viii. when you close your eyes, you can somehow hear reginald pole laughing at you.
the duke of somerset was beheaded for treason. so was the duke of buckingham. so was the duke of northumberland. so was the duke of norfolk. so was the duke of suffolk. the duke of suffolk never lost the king's affection. all the dukes are vying for power. but then you remember: there are no dukes. perhaps there never were.
the howards are not to be trusted. thomas howard was thrown in the tower. thomas howard was executed for treason. thomas howard lived out his life peacefully. thomas howard only narrowly escaped henry viii's reign with his life. you are drowning in thomases. they never end. one thing you are certain of, though: thomas howard is long dead. thomas howard will outlive us all.
you know the names of every courtier in the kingdom, and yet more go missing with every passing day. you try to note down the name of thomas wryth, but you cannot put quill to parchment. how is it spelt? wriothesley? you have always known that. you know it deep in your bones. and yet, when you try to say it out loud, words fail you. words fail everyone, where the earl of southampton is concerned. somewhere dark and terrible, an ancient beast awakens from its slumber. like everything else, it is also called thomas.
you turn to noting down the name of the queen. kateryn parr. this is a simple task. your subconscious whispers catalina to you in a distinctly spanish accent. your hand shakes. you try to write down catherine, but it morphs into a k against your will. you drop your quill, hand trembling. nonetheless, there is a name before you. whose name it is is anyone's guess.
mary is queen. which mary? which queen? suddenly, you are not so sure.
the bible is written in latin. the bible has always been written in latin. you flick through the pages of your bible, and greek letters swim before your eyes. you check the book again, and find you are holding a book of hours. all the words are in english. you cannot read any of them.
the king of england has ruled for many years. he is nine years old. the king of england is a foreign power. elizabeth was king; now james is queen. long live queen james!
#thomas howard will outlive us all is a reference to the 3rd duke of norfolk#but like. there's enough of thomas howards it could be several of them#none of them dodged death as well as he did though#inspired by my teacher being unable to decide how to spell kateryn parr's name#historyposting#*casually skips between reigns*
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☼ perfectly timed pt2 (Finnick Odair) ☼
summary; when you figure out that the arena's a clock, Finnick promises that he'll be your bodyguard from then on, and he doesn't take that responsibility lightly.
warnings; swearing, death, death mention, murder, gore, blood.
wc; 11k
part one.
–
“I’m not going to tell you right now, though.” You warn Finnick, he doesn’t seem to care. “You can’t say anything just yet.”
“I won’t.” He tells you.
“I’m just going to work out the details.” You say.
The two of you walk a couple of steps, before he realizes that he still has his arm around your shoulder. He removes it, offering you an apologetic smile, before joining Katniss, Peeta and Johanna in the treeline.
“Well, it must be monkey hour. And I don’t see any of them in there." Peeta says. “I’m going to try to tap a tree.”
“No, it’s my turn,” Finnick says.
“You’re going to put (Y/n) in danger?” Peeta asks.
Finnick looks at you for a second, “She’ll stick close.”
“I’ll at least watch your back.” Peeta says.
“Katniss can do that.” Johanna says. “We need you to make another map. The other washed away.” She reaches up and yanks a large leaf off of a tree to hand to him.
You shake your head. “I’ll stay here, too, then.”
“No, you’re not leaving my sight, remember?” Finnick motions for you to come.
“Johanna can—”
“Come on, (Y/n). I won’t let anything touch you here.” Finnick takes a step toward you, grabbing your wrist. He begins to pull you into the jungle, you struggle to keep up with his steps.
You travel about fifteen yards into the jungle, when Finnick finds a good tree to tap into. He takes the knife from your hand to stab into the bark of the tree to make a hole with the knife to stick the metal object into. You stick close to Finnick’s side, eyes sweeping the jungle.
Katniss is on guard, too, but she doesn’t appear to be as concerned as you feel. She’s lost in thought, eyebrows twitching in. You look back at the beach, wondering if Finnick will get mad if you go back there, anyway. None of you have any idea what time it is right now, making the jungle dangerous. Katniss said it was going on four, meaning four is beginning…
“Finnick, I don’t think the monkeys are out anymore.”
“We’re fine, (Y/n).” He brushes you off.
“If it’s going on four, then that means we’re in the next hour. We have no idea what we’re facing.”
“The jungle’s fine, see?” Finnick says, straightening briefly to motion to the greenery. “I’ve got you.” He then looks at Katniss, “Katniss, got that spile?”
She blinks, cutting the vines that were holding the metal tube to her belt. She holds it out to him from between her fingers. Finnick’s just reaching to grab it, when a scream breaks the silence. It belongs to a young girl, one that must be terrified.
Katniss drops the spile, whipping around and running straight to where the scream had come from, barely dodging vines and branches as she travels further into the jungle. You shake your head, going to plead with Finnick, but he’s sweeping the spile into one hand, grabbing you with the other, dragging you after Katniss.
“Prim!” Katniss’ shrill scream sounds close, “Prim!” Another agonized scream comes from further in the jungle. “Prim!”
“Finnick, we’re in the next hour!” You tell him, looking behind you to the beach, wondering if Johanna and Peeta can hear Katniss. “We’ve got to get out, not go further!”
“Katniss is our priority.” Finnick tells you firmly.
You block branches with your forearm to keep them from leaving cuts on your face. The pace Finnick sets is difficult to keep up with, you’re not used to running this far for this long. He doesn’t care, pulling you along, forcing you to keep moving whether you like it or not. You think about stopping, but he’d just pick you up to keep going.
Sweat begins to run down the side of your face in the same way that the blood rain did, past your ears and to your chin, where it drips on the front of your jumpsuit. You suck in deep breaths of air, but they provide no help, with how humid it is in here. You need cold air, the type that was coming off of the seawater.
“Prim!” Katniss screams. She rips through a wall of green, stumbling into a clearing ahead. The screaming continues, Katniss is looking up, into the trees. “Prim?”
“What is it?” You gasp.
“I don’t know.”
The two of you make it to the clearing, where you struggle to suck in the air that your lungs are demanding. Katniss seems calmer, at least. She’s wiping one of her arrows clean of blood with moss.
“Katniss?” Finnick says.
“It’s okay. I’m okay.” She says. “I thought they had my sister but—”
The hair on the back of your neck rises when another scream fills the air, this time it’s not a girl. It’s his. You turn, lips parting as you search the jungle. How can he be here? How did they get him here? He’s supposed to be safe at home, untouchable.
“Zero?” You call.
“(Y/n)!” Zero screams back.
“Zero!” You take off in the direction it’s coming from.
“(Y/n), wait!” Katniss shouts behind you.
You don’t stop, running up the incline, heading for the sound of his voice. You manage to keep an eye on the ground, avoiding the roots and snarls that stick up, waiting to trap your feet in its grasp.
“(Y/n), please!”
“I’m coming!” You shout, gasping for air, “Zero, I’m coming!”
You duck beneath a branch, not bothering to stop for it. You can hear Finnick and Katniss behind you, struggling to keep on your heels. The further you travel, the faster you go, getting a hang of the incline.
You fly through a group of bushes, tripping over a branch when it catches on your clothes. You fall to your knees, eyes searching the sky above. You can hear him screaming for you, up in the tree.
“Zero.” Your lips are trembling as you get to your feet. “Zero!”
“Help!” He screams.
Katniss and Finnick come through the bushes, panting. You move around the tree, tears in your eyes that you wipe away.
“I’ve got it.” Katniss tells you, “I’ll get him.”
“Zero.” You murmur. “My brother, they have my brother? How is that possible?”
Katniss sticks her fingers in the bark in places you couldn’t have begun to imagine. She scales the tree, the branches and foliage concealing her. She doesn’t say a word, but the screaming stops. And something falls from the tree, landing in the grass at your feet.
Finnick picks it up, turning it over in his hand.
Your face smooths. “It’s a jabberjay.”
Katniss slides down the tree, coming to join you two. “It’s all right, (Y/n). It’s just a jabberjay. They’re playing a trick on us.” She says. “It’s not real. It’s not your… Zero.”
“No, it’s not Zero, but the voice was his.”
“Jabberjays mimic what they hear. Where did they get those screams, Katniss?” Finnick says.
Katniss pales. “Oh, Finnick, you don’t think they…?”
“Yes I do. That’s exactly what I think.” Finnick says.
You struggle to get your hands to stop shaking, palms flat against your thighs. You and Finnick share a long look, as Katniss sinks into the ground, fingers grabbing at the grass.
Zero’s supposed to be safe at home. You promised him that he’d be okay without you, he’d be protected by the neighboring victors. If anything happened, he would be the first person they retrieved so he could be protected if a war broke out. You didn’t think that they’d just collect him to torture him for samples…
“We have to go.” Finnick says, “This must be the hour.”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you.” You look at him.
“I know, I should’ve listened.” He turns his attention to Katniss. “You have to get up, we need to get back to the others.”
She doesn’t respond, doesn’t so much as glance in your direction to confirm that she’s heard what he said. You wipe the sweat from your forehead, pulling at your fingers. You don’t like being here, in the middle of the jungle. You’re so exposed.
A bird starts to scream off to your right, this causes Katniss to leap to her feet, jerking in the direction. Finnick catches her arm before she can run. “No. It’s not him.” He starts pulling her downhill, you stick close to them. “We’re getting out of here!” Katniss doesn’t care, struggling to get free. “It’s not him, Katniss! It’s a mutt!”
Zero’s screams overlap, your feet freeze in place for a second, you stiffly get them to work again. Finnick glances at you, you press your lips together, sliding your arm beneath his to keep together.
As you go further away from the screams, Katniss is less combative. In fact, she becomes eager to get out of the jungle, pulling you and Finnick behind her. It takes only a few minutes for you to reach the treeline, where Johanna and Peeta are standing there, unmoving.
Finnick lets go of Katniss, but you keep your hold on him.
Peeta’s got his hands raised, palms facing towards you. His lips are moving, but there’s no sound behind it. It isn’t until Katniss and Finnick run smack into the transparent wall, do you know that it’s there. The two of them fall back on the jungle floor, Finnick pulling you down with him.
Katniss grips at her shoulder, but when you look at Finnick, you see that his nose is gushing blood. He must’ve hit it face-first. You search the area nearby, and find some of the moss that Katniss had been using earlier to help clean up Beetee’s back. You pull it from the rock, handing it to Finnick.
“Thanks.” He squishes his nose. “So much for going to the beach.”
Johanna and Peeta shake their heads, and even demonstrate that the wall is unbreakable, by swinging their weapons at it. None of you even bother to try to check any of the other walls, all that’ll happen is you’ll be met with disappointment when you can’t make it through there, either.
For the next minute, you think that this will be manageable. You can sit through and listen to your brother screaming for help. Then the birds arrive, one by one, perching in the surrounding branches. An orchestrated chorus of screams and pleas begin to spill out of their beaks.
You slam the heels of your hands over your ears, pressing tightly. “No, no, no!”
Finnick comes over, guiding you to the wall, helping you to the ground. He doesn’t seem affected by the screams, he even pries your hands from your ears, only then to immediately replace them with his. He blocks them out entirely, but you still reach up to hold them there, afraid of the sounds that are happening out there.
You watch for a while as Katniss empties her quiver of arrows into the birds. She’ll take one down, and it’ll be replaced by two more. When she realizes this, she stops, coming to sit beside you and Finnick, clenching her own hands over her ears to keep out the wretched noise.
You keep your eyes closed for the remainder of the hour, distracting yourself by thinking about the plan to kill off the Two tributes. You come to the conclusion that it’ll work best if you hide in the trees, let the tidal wave come at ten, hike up to the lightning tree to somehow connect the wire to the tree, and then bring the spool back down to the beach before the lightning hits. By then, Enobaria and Brutus will want to be out of the jungle, and they’ll get electrocuted to death.
That is, unless the rebel plan takes over first. As far as you know, the mentors haven’t sent any hints as to what day and what hour you’ll be executing everything. Haymitch worked out a plan, hopefully fool proof. You’ll use the type of district bread for day, and the amount of bread for the hour.
He’s supposed to send multiple rounds of the bread to confirm that it’s still happening at the same time. You haven’t thought to ask about it until now. Before, your mind was occupied with the jungle, then a plan to kill the careers. With that almost done, you need to look at the final and bigger picture.
Finnick’s hands loosen from your ears, you’re left with an ache in the area from how hard he was pushing. The hour must be done, because Peeta is now sitting with Katniss, and you can’t hear anymore screaming.
Your head falls into your hands as you rub beneath your eyes, sighing. Finnick gets to his feet, when you look up, you can see he has his hand out for you. You take it, letting him pull you to your feet.
“Thank you, Finnick. You didn’t have to do that.” You place your hand on his shoulder.
“They have no one to use against me, (Y/n).” Finnick says, “And I didn’t want to watch you being tortured.”
Your eyebrows twitch, “Right.”
“I’m going to go find a tree to tap.” Finnick tells you.
“Do you want me to go with?”
“No, stay here with them. I’ll be back in a minute.” He says, picking up his trident. He strides off, presumably toward the original tree that he had carved out before the birds attacked.
“It’s all right, Katniss.” Peeta whispers.
“You didn’t hear them.”
“I heard Prim. Right in the beginning. But it wasn’t her,” He says. “It was a jabberjay.”
“It was her. Somewhere. The jabberjay just recorded it.” Katniss says, not budging.
“No, that’s what they want you to think. The same way I wondered if Glimmer’s eyes were in that mutt last year. But those weren’t Glimmer’s eyes. And that wasn’t Prim’s voice. Or if it was, they took it from an interview or something and distorted the sound. Made it say whatever she was saying.” He says.
What Peeta says gets you thinking. He’s right. You thought the same thing she and Finnick did, until Peeta mentioned the distorted sound a second ago. At home, you learned how to do that in school. It’s basic technology manipulation. You’re not sure why you didn’t think of that before.
Maybe it’s because you wouldn’t put it past the Capitol to kidnap and torture innocents. Zero has never been directly in contact with the capitol, unless it’s through you. Even then, they don’t focus on him for very long.
“No, they were torturing her.” Katniss says. “She’s probably dead.”
“Katniss, Prim isn’t dead. How could they kill Prim? We’re almost down to the final eight of us. And what happens then?” Peeta asks.
“Seven more of us die.” Katniss mutters morbidly. It’s almost comical.
“No, back home. WHat happens when they reach the final eight tributes in the Games?” He lifts her chin. “What happens? At the final eight?”
Katniss doesn’t respond right away. “At the final eight?” She repeats. “They interview your family and friends back home.”
“That’s right.” Peeta says. “They interview your family and friends. And can they do that if they’ve killed them all?”
“No?” Katniss asks.
“No. That’s how we know Prim’s alive. She’ll be the first one they interview, won’t she?” He asks, Katniss is apprehensive still. “First Prim. Then your mother. Your cousin, Gale. Madge,” he lists. “It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we’re the only ones who can be hurt by it. We're the ones in the Games. Not them.”
Finnick is coming back through the trees, a woven bowl in his hands. They hardly pay any attention to him. He hands you the water first, you take a few sips out of it, giving it back to him.
“You really believe that?” Katniss asks.
“I really do.” Peeta says.
Katniss looks at Finnick, who’s handing her the bowl of water. “Did you hear any of that, Finnick> Do you believe it?”
“It could be true. I don’t know.” His eyes land on you. “Could they do that, (Y/n)? Take someone’s regular voice and make it…”
“Yes, I completely forgot it was possible at first.” You let out a sigh. “It’s not even that difficult. Our children learn a similar technique in school.”
“Of course Peeta’s right. The whole country adores Katniss’s little sister. If they really killed her like this, they’d probably have an uprising on their hands.” Johanna says flatly. “Don’t want that, do they?” She throws her head back to shout, “Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn’t want anything like that!”
You look at Finnick, and then out at the beach. “We should move.”
“Good idea.” Peeta agrees, sweeping Katniss into his arms.
Finnick grabs the bowl of water that was left behind, offering it to Johanna. She holds her hand out, “I’m going to pee.”
“No, don’t.” Katniss calls. “The birds—”
“They can’t hurt me. I’m not like the rest of you. There’s no one left I love,” Johanna says, walking away.
You and Finnick make your way to the beach to join Katniss and Peeta, who are now sitting in the sand. You find the wire sitting by a tree, reflecting the sunlight. Finnick places the bowl of water on top of it to keep sand from getting inside. He doesn’t stop to sit down, wandering to go be in the water.
You sit in the shade, knees against your chest as you stare at Finnick’s back. You knew he was going to keep you safe, but you didn’t realize that he was going to take every measure necessary. He pulled you away from the careers when you went to grab Beetee, took Enobaria’s knife in his thigh for you, and then dived in the water to grab the wire so you wouldn’t.
And now he’s keeping you close.
“Who did they use against Finnick?” Peeta asks.
“No one.” Katniss murmurs. “It was (Y/n) and I.” She glances at you, “Her brother.”
Peeta looks over too, curious now. “I think I remember. (Y/n), there was a tragedy, wasn’t there?”
You nod, not speaking right away. You’re surprised he even remembers, your Games took place almost eight years ago. It wasn’t a very popular one because of how boring you’d been the entire time. The only notable event was the fire that took place, eating up the entire forest that you’d been using as your shelter. It’s how the Two girl was able to find you, because you had to adventure out and pick new spots to rotate between, places she’d frequented and knew like the back of her hand.
What Peeta’s asking about isn’t about the arena and that fire. It was what happened a couple months later after you’d arrived home. You used to be bothered by people asking what happened exactly, but a few years ago, you realized that it was going to haunt you if you didn’t let it go.
You started out as a miracle, the first Three victor in a good number of years. When you didn’t follow the ideas that the people had around you, it sparked controversy. Where Beetee helped the Capitol with projects, you refused to even step foot on a train to go back if it wasn’t for mentoring.
Your parents wanted you to pursue the Capitol, in hopes that it would make a better future for generations. You didn’t listen, so they decided they were going to stay in the childhood home. Your brother was supposed to, too, except he frequently slept over at your victor house, because it was bigger and warmer.
One night, the home was set aflame. By the time you got the news, there was nothing left to salvage, whoever had done it did a thorough job. The peacekeepers investigated it for a couple months, but they stopped when they couldn’t find any more information.
It killed your parents, and your brother would be dead too, if he hadn’t stayed at your house that night, like he wasn’t supposed to.
“My childhood home burned down, killing my parents.” You tell them. “I only have my brother.”
Peeta nods, stroking Katniss’s hair. “I’m surprised they didn’t use Annie Cresta against Finnick.”
“Who?” Katniss asks.
“Annie Cresta. She was the girl Mags volunteered for. She won about five years ago.”
You raise your eyebrows, and then allow your face to relax. You don’t think about Annie much, she was one of those victors that got covered up quickly. Kinda like Johanna, except she refuses to let the light go out on her. The Capitol can’t either, because she’s the only female victor in Seven. She has to mentor tributes.
“I don’t remember those Games much.” Katniss says. “Was that the earthquake year?”
“Yeah. Annie’s the one who went mad when her district partner got beheaded. Ran off by herself and hid. But an earthquake broke a dam and most of the arena got flooded. She won because she was the best swimmer.”
“Did she get better after?” Katniss asks. “I mean, her mind?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember ever seeing her at the Games again. But she didn’t look too stable during reaping this year.” Peeta says.
“From what I heard, Finnick and Annie broke up two years ago.” You draw a figure eight in the sand. “She’s not doing well.”
That’s all hearsay, though. Information that you’d gathered over time while you mentored. Annie won, the following year, Finnick was still by himself mentoring. The year after, he was the happiest you’ve seen him in the Capitol. Then last year, he was back to who he was before.
Johanna comes out of the trees a few minutes later, arrows in hand. She drops them in a pile next to Katniss and Peeta, who murmur out a thanks. A cannon blasts, Finnick rises to come join the rest of you in watching the hovercraft. It appears over the six-to-seven zone, and dips down five different times to retrieve the pieces of one body. There’s no telling who it was.
Once again, Peeta gets a leaf to draw a new map, adding JJ for the jabberjays in the four-to-five area. He writes beast in the area the tribute was collected in pieces. With the map, you’re able to see where you sit on the clock face again.
Finnick makes a net for fishing, going out into the water to throw it. Katniss joins him to take a quick swim, and then sits at the edge of the water to clean the fish that Finnick catches. The sun sets fairly quickly in this time, the moon rising on the other side.
You’re all beginning to settle down to eat when the anthem begins, followed by the faces of the dead. Cashmere, Gloss, Beetee, Mags. The five of you sit in solemn silence, trying to be respectful for one another. The women from Five and Six, with Blight and the man from Ten pulling up the rear.
Another eight dead.
“They’re really burning through us.” Johanna says.
“Who’s left? Besides us five and District Two?” Finnick asks.
“Chaff.” Peeta says, not missing a beat.
You continue to draw in the sand, watching as a parachute comes down from behind the trees, teetering from side to side. “We’ve got a sponsor gift.”
Peeta gets to his feet, letting the parachute land in his palm. He sets it down in the middle with the rest of the food, pulling back the square of fabric, allowing you to see its bread.
That’s right.
There’s a pile of small square shaped rolls. “These are from your district, right, (Y/n)?”
“Yes, from District Three.” You lean forward. “How many are there?”
Finnick gets to counting them, being thorough by turning each one over in his hands before he sets them into a neat pile. “Twenty-four.”
“An even two dozen, then?” You ask.
“Twenty-four on the nose.” Finnick meets your eyes. “How should we divide them?”
“Let’s each have three, and whoever is still alive at breakfast can take a vote on the rest.” Johanna says, Katniss lets out a laugh.
The five of you eat the food that’s presented in front of you, passing around the water bowl to whoever asks for it. They try to keep up conversation, but you’ve already sunk back into your mind.
District Three means day three. Twenty-four rolls of bread means midnight. They want you to be at the lightning tree, don’t they? It’s perfect for the plan you went through this afternoon. Your idea to kill the careers will act as a cover for the real rebel plan that’s taking place.
When you’re done eating, the bread rolls are placed into a dry bowl to keep them safe. You retreat into the woods when the wave comes, wait for the water to recede, and then head to that part of the beach to make camp. If everything goes according to plan, there should be a full twelve hours before you have to move again.
There’s a chorus of clicking coming from the eleven-to-twelve wedge. You all agree to keep away from that area and the beach, in case the insects are waiting for misstep in that area.
Katniss and Peeta volunteer to take watch, because they’ve had the most sleep out of all of you. Johanna goes down without a fight, she’s only had an hour all day. Finnick finds a space between you and Johanna. You’re a little different, though. While they fall asleep almost instantly, you can’t find the same peace.
You get to your feet, this causes Peeta to sit up.
“Is there something wrong?” He asks.
“No, I’m just going to take a walk. I’ll stay in sight.” You tell him.
You pull off your shoes, dropping them where you’d been sitting. You then wander down the beach, even going a few steps into the water. When you’re sure that you’re far enough away from them, and they won’t be able to hear you, you stop.
A shaky breath escapes your lips as you lean over your knees. You breathe deeply in through your nose, trying to calm the aching feeling that’s growing in your throat. You sniff, closing your eyes, shaking your head.
Beetee was more than your mentor. He turned into your second parent after yours died. He made sure that you settled into your house, that you were sound enough to take care of your brother on your own. He even got Wiress to offer to volunteer for you, if you weren’t up for this.
And now he’s gone.
You can’t help the tears that escape, placing a hand over your mouth as you sob into your fingers. You knew that there were going to be sacrifices made, he even warned you that there was a good possibility that you could die, too. You just never thought it would be him.
You get tired of standing, opting to sit in the water. It’s warm, not at all refreshing. You don’t care, you don’t want to go back over there. It’s clear Katniss and Peeta needed time by themselves. You don’t want to see the looks on their faces either, when they realize you’ve been crying.
You just hope Zero is being good for Wiress. The victors are all supposed to watch over him together, but she said that she’d keep a close eye. Zero told you he wouldn’t get into any trouble, it’s hard to believe him. He’s got the whole house to himself and no older sister to limit him. He has to have some idea of what kind of danger he’s in though, right?
A crack of lightning hits the tree, altering you that it’s now midnight, officially bringing you into the third day. You hear a shout coming from camp, and when you turn to look, you see that Finnick is sitting up in the sand. He looks to where your shoes are, and then his head whips in your direction.
You sigh, getting to your feet. Either you go back, or he’s going to come over here. You walk through the water most of the way, enjoying the way the water laps over your feet. When you get there, Katniss is just laying down, Finnick is taking her spot.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Finnick asks.
“I’m not tired.” You tell him, which is part of the truth. You did sleep most of the night last night, but if you were to lie down again, you’d be left to your thoughts. Same if you stayed away. “I’ll stay with Finnick, Peeta. Go ahead and be with Katniss.”
“Are you sure?” Peeta asks, he’s getting to his feet.
“Yeah.”
Katniss looks over her shoulder, watching as Peeta goes to join her. You sit where Peeta had been, which faces the jungle. You cross your legs, stabbing the knife Finnick gave you into the sand, and leaving it there.
Neither of you speak for a long while. Katniss and Peeta must fall asleep fairly quickly, wrapped around each other. You brush the sand from your legs once it’s dried.
“I’m sorry about Mags, I know how close you two were.” You murmur.
“Thank you, (Y/n).” He says. It’s quiet between you two for a moment. “You were wrong, you know.”
Your eyebrows twitch. You turn your head far enough to see the back of his shoulder. “About what?”
“Annie.”
You press your lips together, he must’ve heard you talking earlier to Katniss and Peeta. “I’m sorry, Finnick. I didn’t mean for it to be malicious.”
“We never dated.” He says. “She was my best friend before she went into the Games. Recently, we haven’t been as close.” He shakes his head, you can feel his hair brush the back of yours. “I was surprised they didn’t use her against me during the jabberjays, and then I realized that it must be because we’re not even friends anymore.”
“What happened between the two of you?” You ask, “If you want to talk about it.”
“It’s a short story.” He pauses. “She started getting better after her Games, so I started to visit her more. And when I thought that she could handle it, I asked her if she’d take over mentoring temporarily.”
You hum. “She wasn’t ready?”
“She called me selfish, we stopped speaking altogether.” He sighs. “I guess the Capitol has eyes everywhere.”
“Of course they do. You really thought they didn’t?” You laugh slightly.
“I had hope.” He chuckles, letting out a breath. “Did you work out the details to your plan, yet?”
“Yes, actually. And I think it’ll be a perfect addition to the plan.” You elbow him, as a way to nudge him into your line of process.
“Really? Let’s hear it.” He says.
“We should wait for the others.” You tell him.
“What, are you afraid that I’m going to claim the idea belongs to me?”
You laugh, “No, I guess I could tell you.” You clear your throat, “I was thinking, if we want to take out the careers, we should do it tomorrow night. The wire isn’t completely useless. See, the wave happens at ten, which makes the sand damp, and with the lightning at midnight, it could work as a conductor. We could electrocute the shit out of them when they come down to the beach, thinking it's safe.
“Or… for something else, if we find it.”
Finnick laughs, “That’s a great idea, (Y/n). This is with all the kinks worked out?”
“More or less.”
“I’m glad you’re here, I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“You’d survive, figure it out on your own but a little slower.” You look down at the beach. “You don’t need me here.”
Finnick moves behind you, you look over your shoulder to see that he’s turned to face you. “That’s not true, you need to give yourself more credit.”
“Fine, you’d be lost without me.”
“I mean it, (Y/n). We need you here. You’re just as important.”
You give him a smile. “Thanks.”
—
As much as you wanted to be the one to keep Finnick company for the night, Johanna woke up a couple hours later and insisted that she swap with you. You didn’t feel tired, but laid down anyway. Sure enough, you went out like a light once your eyes were closed.
You didn’t sleep for long, the arena is unusually hot today. The sand is burning your sensitive skin, which you’ve opted to occasionally splash water onto in order to keep cool. It works, partially. The water is warm, but if you time it right, it’s perfectly paired with a breeze.
You kick water in Finnick’s direction, he looks up from his trident, giving you a challenging head tilt. A warning that if you continue, he’ll come over here and teach you a lesson. You give him an innocent look, and then go back to standing knee-deep in the water.
Katniss stirs on the beach, rolling over to squint at the sun angrily. She’s going to have to get in line if she wants to explode the damn thing. None of you are happy with the Gamemakers right now.
You turn to look at the jungle, and find another parachute coming down from the sky. “Sponsor gift.”
Peeta and Johanna look up from the leaf map that he made last night. Finnick gets to his feet, taking a few steps and catching the gift before it hits the sand. You get out of the water, joining them in what little shade is covering the beach. When he sets it down, you’re able to see that it’s more bread, twenty-four rolls, all coming from District Three again.
It’s divided so that everyone gets five, leaving eight left over. You eat in silence, listening to the waves eat up the sand, and then retreat again. You play with the end of the wire, twisting it into a spiral, before pulling it straight. You need to tell them about the plan you’ve made, it just has to be done at the right time.
Katniss gets up, grabbing Peeta’s hand, pulling him in the direction of the water, “Come on. I’ll teach you how to swim.”
He doesn’t fight her. The three of you watch as they go about waist-deep into the water, then she begins to teach him basic strokes. Finnick gets up to collect vines, strategically weaving them into a net. While Johanna refuses to take her eyes off of the teenagers for longer than ten seconds at a time.
She must be worried that they’re going to run off, but if that were the case, Katniss wouldn’t have left her bow here. The only thing they can do now is talk to one another, which is what they did last night, too. If they try to leave, they’re not going to make it very far. They’ll be hunted down within the hour.
Johanna yawns, “I’m going to nap, wake me if anything interesting happens.”
She scoots back so that her upper body is protected from the sun. She uses her arm as a pillow, and bends her other arm over her eyes to make it easier to sleep.
“You can sleep, too. You don’t have to sit with me.” Finnick says.
“I’m fine.” You shrug.
Finnick works quickly, creating the net in a circular shape. He explains to you that if it’s bunched up, he can throw it a certain way and it’ll expand and cover more water. You stare at him for a few long seconds, wondering if he thinks you’re stupid or if it’s the other way around.
“You mean… a casting net?” You ask slowly.
Finnick blinks, “You know what a casting net is?”
“Finnick, I know what a lot of things are.” You breathe a laugh. “A casting net is one of them.”
He smiles, shaking his head. “Right.”
“Hey, Finnick, come on in! We figured out how to make you pretty again!” Katniss waves her hand.
He looks up from the sand, eyebrows drawing in. She’s talking about the scabs that they’re completely covered in, which was a result of the ointment they used because of the poisonous fog. Finnick gets to his feet, leaving the net next to you as he goes over to join them.
You watch as the three of them use handfuls of sand to rub off the scabs gently. They take turns helping each other get the ones on their back. When they’re done, they come out of the water to apply another round of the medicine because their skin isn’t taking well to the sun.
“I think it’s time we talk about the careers,” You tell them. “I doubt they’ll attack us openly again, now that they’re outnumbered. We could track them down, but it’s dangerous to pursue them.”
“Do you think they’ve figured out about the clock?” Katniss asks.
“If they haven’t, they’ll figure it out soon, just not as specifically as we have. They must know that at least some of the zones are wired for attacks and that they’re recurring. And the fact that our last fight was cut off by Gamemaker intervention will not pass over their heads, as much as we’d like to think it will.
“We know it was an attempt to disorient us, but they’re going to be asking why it happened, and that might lead them to the clock idea, as well.”
“Wait, let me get Johanna up.” FInnick says. “She’ll be rabid if she thinks she missed something this important.”
“Or not.” Katniss mutters, you tilt your head, agreeing with her.
Still, he gets Johanna awake and up to speed. She crosses her arms, staring at you intensely. You squint at her briefly, before making Katniss and Peeta scoot back.
You draw a circle in the sand, dividing it into twelve wedges. “If you were Brutus and Enobaria, knowing what you do now about the jungle, where would you feel safest?” You ask, looking between them.
“Where we are now. On the beach.” Peeta says. “It’s the safest place.”
“So why aren’t they on the beach?”
“Because we’re here.” Johanna sighs impatiently. “Is there a point to this?”
You ignore her. “Exactly, we’re here, claiming the beach. Now where would you go?”
No one speaks for a second, until Katniss does, “I’d hide just at the edge of the jungle. So I could escape if an attack came. And so I could spy on us.”
“Also to eat,” Finnicks ays. “The jungle’s full of strange creatures and plants. But by watching us, I’d know the seafood’s safe.”
You smile, “Of course, now that we’re all on the same page, here’s what I propose: a twelve o’clock strike. What happens at noon and at midnight?”
“The lightning bolt hits the tree.” Katniss says.
“Yes, so what I’m going to suggest is that after the bolt hits at noon, but before it hits at midnight, we run Beetee’s wire from that tree all the way down into the saltwater, which is, of course, highly conductive. When the bolt strikes, the electricity will travel down the wire and into not only the water but also the surrounding beach, which will still be damp from the wave at ten. Anyone in contact with those surfaces at that time will be electrocuted.”
Silence takes over as the words sink in, you let them think it over. You’ve had more time to work out the finer details of the plan between telling Finnick last night and this morning. You’ve found every issue, and carefully ironed it out. If it works the way you want it to, you’ll be all set for Haymitch’s plan.
The looks on their faces are giving you different ideas on what they want to say. Peeta starts first. “Will that wire really be able to conduct that much power, (Y/n)? It looks so fragile, like it would just burn up.”
“Oh, it will, but not until the current has passed through it. It will act something like a fuse. Except the electricity will travel along it.” You play with the wire.
“How do you know?” Johanna asks.
You take in a breath, “I have come to realize that Beetee invented it.” You look at her. “I’ve worked with wire, and this isn’t any wire, it’s the one he created. It’s not wire in the usual sense, just like how the lightning natural lighting or that tree a real tree. You know trees better than any of us, Johanna. It would be destroyed by now, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes.” She nods.
“There’s no need to worry about the wire. It’ll do its job.”
“And where will we be when this happens?” Finnick asks.
“Far enough up in the jungle to be safe.” You tell him.
“The careers will be safe, too, then, unless they’re in the vicinity of the water.” Katniss says.
“That’s right.” You agree.
“But all the seafood will be cooked.” Peeta objects.
“A lot more than cooked.” You laugh. “We will be eliminating that as a food source entirely this way, but Katniss found other edible things in the jungle, right?”
“Yes. Nuts and rats.” She says. “And we have sponsors.”
“I don’t see it as a problem, then.” You smile. “This isn’t something I can do on my own. I say we go for it, but it can’t get done without you four. The decision on whether or not we do it is up to you.”
Katniss looks between them. “Why not? If it fails, there’s no harm done. If it works, there’s a decent chance we’ll kill them. And even if we don’t and just kill the seafood, Brutus and Enobaria lose it as a food source, too.”
“I say we try it. Katniss is right.” Peeta nods.
Finnick looks at Johanna. They share a long look while she decides. “All right.” She finally says. “It’s better than hunting them down in the jungle, anyway. And I doubt they’ll figure out our plan, since we can barely understand it ourselves.”
Finnick then looks to you, “What’s next, (Y/n)?”
You smile. “I need to take a look at the tree.”
The five of you get to pack up your belongings, with Katniss telling you that she believes it has to be somewhere around nine in the morning. You have to leave the beach soon, anyway. When everyone is ready, you head to the beach that bordered the lightning section, and Johanna takes lead into the jungle.
Finnick follows after her, then you, and Peeta and Katniss take up the rear. It’s a straight shot up to the tree, there’s no need for directions. The further you travel, the harder it is to convince yourself it was a good idea to hike. You hated it during the first day, too, but you didn’t complain nearly as much as Beetee did. To be fair, though, he did have a nasty gash on his back.
You hum a short tune, which earns you a glare from Johanna. You pretend you don’t see it, because the silence is killing you. The birds aren’t nearly as vocal here, they were much louder in the blood rain wedge. Then again, after yesterday, you’re not sure if you want to see a bird for the next year.
When you begin to near the top, Finnick makes a suggestion that Katniss should take the lead.
“Why is that?” You ask, beating Johanna to the question.
“Katniss can hear the force field.” He says.
Your face twists, and so does your body as you go to take a look at Katniss. You and Beetee were the ones that showed her in the first place, in the gymnasium. You were sitting together at the fire station, fixated on how the Gamemakers decided they needed the protection. That’s when Katniss came along and enlightened you; she’d shot an arrow at them last year.
However, the force field doesn’t have a noise to it. It didn’t in the gymnasium, and it didn’t when you got close to Blight’s body. What Finnick is saying right now isn’t possible, otherwise there’d be a constant hum in the arena depending on how close you were to the force field.
“Only with the ear the Captiol reconstructed.” Katniss tells you.
That’s bullshit, and she knows it too. Maybe this has something to do with Peeta running into the force field on the first day. She chose not to tell them what she knew, possibly afraid of what the Gamemakers would do with it.
“Interesting.” Is all you say, moving out of the way to let her pass.
The lightning tree is unmistakable. It towers high above the trees that surround it. Katniss takes a handful of nuts, slowly moving toward the top. You peer around her, and when you see a square ripple, you know that you have plenty of room to work with.
Katniss throws a nut, which hits the wall and sizzles. “Just stay below the lightning tree.”
With that, everyone divides up different jobs while you take a closer look at the tree. Finnick follows you, continuing his guarding duty. Johanna decides to tap a tree for water, while Peeta gathers nuts and Katniss wanders away briefly to hunt for the tree rats.
You stare at the tree, arms crossed over your chest as you think. Finnick stands beside you, trident in his hand, occasionally glancing at you to see if your face has changed. You can’t imagine how boring this must be to him, especially when he has no clue what you’re looking for.
You take the spool of wire, find it between your fingers to see how thick it is. With how tightly its wound, there’s got to be miles of the wire. You won’t have to worry about running out of it between wrapping it around the tree and bringing it back down to the beach.
Speaking of the tree, it doesn’t look right now that you’re standing in front of it. You knew that it wasn’t a real tree, but you thought the inside of it would be the artificial stuff, not the outside. You run your fingers over the bark, and find that it’s weirdly patterned.
When you look at the trees behind you, the appearance of those are completely different. It’s almost like the Gamemakers made half an effort at trying to hide that it’s not real. Or maybe, making the bark anything other than fake could increase the potential of setting the entire jungle on fire.
You wander around the tree, and Finnick follows for a while, but when he sees that you’re making rounds in circles, he steps back and watches you. You measure the tree, thinking about how much wire it’s going to take to make the plan actually work. The base is thicker than you thought it would be.
You stop at the sound of the wave, which causes the others to pause, too. A few minutes later, Katniss comes out of the trees, bearing three tree rats. She draws a line in the dirt to remind everyone how far away they must stay from the force field, and then proceeds to sit with Peeta to roast nuts and sear cubes of meat.
Johanna joins them after she’s had enough of making fun of you to Finnick, who seems less than interested by the names she’s calling you. You stop between the force field and the tree, looking at the malfunctioning square, then back at the bark. You wonder…
You break off a piece of the bark, which doesn’t come easily. Katniss tells you and Finnick that the food is ready when you are, so as you go over, you toss the bark against the force field. It bounces off, landing on the ground, glowing a bright orange color. It takes about a minute for it to return back to the original bark color.
“Huh,” You let out, “Well, that explains a lot.”
The bark and the force field are made of the same material. You should’ve guessed.
You take a seat next to Finnick, picking at the nuts and meat chunks.
“I have a question.” Your attention turns to Katniss, Peeta and Finnick. “Regarding Peeta and the force field situation. What happened, exactly?”
“Peeta was clearing a way with his machete and he hit the force field.” Finnick tells you.
“With the machete?” You ask, “And what happened to the force field?”
Finnick shakes his head, and Peeta looks lost too. Katniss, however, sighs, “It disappeared, and then it came back.”
You hum. Whatever you do around the lightning tree must be with precaution from now on. You’re not an expert on the force field subject—Beetee would’ve known more—but weapons cannot come into contact with it. You think that’s where the problems will arise, since you were able to touch it with your hands.
The sound of clicking nearby causes the rest of you to glance in the direction. It’s eleven, only an hour left until twelve. The noise is far louder here than it was on the beach last night. You quiet to listen.
“It’s not mechanical.” You tell them after a minute.
“It has to be insects.” Katniss says. “Maybe beetles.”
“Something with pincers.” Finnick adds.
The sound increases, as if the insects are dying to get to you.
“We should get out of here, anyway.” Johanna says. “There’s less than an hour before the lightning starts.”
Katniss brings you to the next section over, which happens to be the blood rain area, stopping next to the identical tree here. With food being interrupted before, you resume here, finishing what’s left in the bowls. You wait until Katniss is done eating and the insects fade out, before you ask her to climb the tree to get a better look for you when the lightning strikes.
It shakes the ground, you and Johanna share a look. You might not like each other, but the uneasiness begins to stir in your stomach. The idea of being here, only an hour before the rain, makes you feel sick. You don’t want to be covered again, not if you can help it.
Katniss comes down from the tree a few minutes later. She goes on to tell you that the lightning takes the entire tree, which makes it glow a hot blue-white. The air up there was crackling with electricity.
“Perfect.” You murmur.
With that, you feel satisfied enough to go back down to the beach. The sand is damp, clear of any footprints until the five of you begin to step on it, leaving a clear trail wherever you walk. There’s nothing to do beyond this point but wait, you fiddle with the wire, wrapping it around a large stick to see how much it would take to make a dent, since it’s so thin.
Katniss, Peeta and Johanna lay down to sleep. Finnick watches you curiously, occasionally asking questions that you’re more than happy to answer for him. By the time the lightning has stopped and the rain has begun, you’ve decided that you’ll have to work quickly tonight, and might even need help.
You yawn, Finnick’s eyes snap to you. “Sleep.”
“Finnick.” You warn, “I’m fine.”
“We need you at your best. If anything happens, I’ll wake you.”
You sigh, not really wanting to argue with him. You make him promise to keep an eye on the wire, before joining the others in the shadows to nap.
—
A hand roughly grabbing your bare calf jolts you awake. You sweep the knife out of the sand, swinging it to stab while you open your eyes to see who it is. Another hand grabs your wrist, and you’re met with Finnick’s cheeky face.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you like that.” Finnick lets go of you. “Johanna pushed me over.” Johanna’s standing behind him, her arms crossed, staring down at you. She laughs, and then turns away. “We’ve got more food, if you’re hungry.”
You shake your head, “No, but I’ll sit with you.”
The others are only a few feet away, shifted to let you sleep but also to chase the shade, since it’s growing slimmer. Finnick must’ve woven more bowls, because the amount has multiplied. Finnick reaches to help Katniss and Peeta clean out the seafood, while Johanna wanders around in the treeline to keep an eye out for the careers.
Peeta pops open an oyster, laughing. “Hey, look at this!” He holds up a glistening pearl. “You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls.” He says to Finnick.
“No, it doesn’t.” Finnick says, cleaning a fish. Katniss laughs, you give a smile.
Peeta rinses it off in a bowl that holds unopened oysters, handing it to Katniss. “For you.”
She lets him set it in her palm. “Thanks.”
Peeta’s smile fades. “The locket didn’t work, did it?” He asks, you avert your eyes. “Katniss?”
“It worked.” She says.
“But not in the way I wanted it to.”
Silence, as they shuck open shellfish and oysters. You watch as Finnick easily cuts away scales, making squares beneath, and shaking them free into a bowl. He works quickly, he must’ve been doing this whole life. He even feels comfortable enough to look away for several seconds, into your eyes.
“You’re going to cut your hand.” You tell him.
“I won’t.” He says, tossing the fish scrap into the trees. “Do you want to try?”
“No, I’d rather watch.”
He smirks, getting to work on another fish. In the time it takes them to finish what they’re doing, you’re a little hungry. Johanna’s just coming to sit down with you four, when she stops at the sight of another sponsor gift. She catches it, and when she sets it down, you’re able to see that it’s a red sauce for the seafood, and another pile of bread.
Finnick counts them, “Twenty-four again.”
So it’s settled, the plan is happening at midnight, tonight.
With there being thirty-two rolls in total—eight being leftover from this morning—it’s divided so that everyone gets five again, leaving seven. You dip a chunk of fish into the red sauce, and the moment it touches your tongue, you close your eyes, letting out a hum.
“It’s good?” Finnick asks, reaching to do the same.
“It’s spicy.” You tell him. “So much better.”
It improves the flavor, making you hungrier. While they gorge themselves on everything in front of them, you take your time, not wanting to be so full that you feel like throwing up. You still have to hike up the hill, and it’ll be more difficult than this morning after a meal.
The red sauce is completely gone by the time they’re done, and there’s still food left over. They make sure that you’re full, and then they toss the leftovers into the sea because it won’t be good in a couple of hours. And no one wants to give the careers an opportunity to eat.
Katniss and Peeta go to sit on the edge of the water. Johanna goes back to patrolling, and you and Finnick sit and do nothing. That is, until he gets up to talk to Johanna away from you. You pull your knees to your chest, leaning forward into them, staring absently into the jungle.
The anthem plays a couple of hours later, but there are no faces in the sky tonight. The only people left in the arena are your group, the careers, and your missing member of the bigger alliance. There will be no more deaths until the careers.
When Finnick and Katniss believe nine o’clock has rolled around, you leave the shell infested camp to go to the twelve wedge. No one speaks as the hike begins, but it’s clear in the first ten minutes that they’ve eaten too much, because they’re walking at a slower pace. Miraculously, you feel just fine.
At the tree, Finnick takes point being your help, while the other three stand guard nearby. You pick up a branch, wrapping it in wire, and then make Finnick stand on the other side of the tree, as you pass it back and forth. You’re not sure if he notices, but you have him help you do it in a pattern, slowly drifting downward, and then back up, and then down again, covering as much of the bark as you can.
Your fingers brush his each time you hand it off, and you have to hold your breath to kill the butterflies that swarm.
You’re done with the wire around the time the wave begins. You gather together, holding the wire out for Johanna. You take your time explaining to them that this part is crucial. They need to carefully unwind the wire as they go down through the jungle, lay it across the beach, and throw it as deep into the water as they possibly can.
“Johanna and Katniss should take it, because they’ll be quicker. I’ll stay up here to make sure nothing goes wrong on our end.”
“I want to go with them as a guard.” Peeta says, shaking his head.
“You’re too slow.” You tell him flatly. “We can all see it. Besides, I’ll need you on this end. Katniss will guard.” You look at Katniss. “There’s no time to debate this. I’m sorry. If they want to get out of there alive, they need to move now.”
“It’s okay.” Katniss says. “We’ll just drop the coil and come straight back up.”
“In the one-to-two sector, not in the lightning zone.” You tell her. “If you’re running out of time, move over one more. Don’t even think about going back on the beach, until I can take a look at it.”
Katniss cups Peeta’s face. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you at midnight.” She kisses him, turning to Johanna. “Ready?”
“Why not?” Johanna shrugs. “You guard, I’ll unwind. We can trade off later.”
The two of them begin to go down the slope, you barely look at Peeta, eyes landing on Finnick. He spins the trident in his hand, and then he moves away to watch the jungle. You cross your arms, standing close to the wire, watching as it goes rigid from them pulling it on the way down.
You pace, taking measured breaths to calm the anxiousness rising. It’s not the wire you’re worried about, it’s the rescue plan. You have less than two hours to pull this off and get lifted out of the arena. Hopefully you’ll be all together by then, making it an easy rescue.
You just hope they already have your brother somewhere safe. If you get out of here, and they don’t have Zero, you’re not sure if the rebels will bother keeping you around. You won’t help. You swear you don’t lift a finger to help them. It’s what you did after your Games, it’s what you’ll do now if they go back on their promise.
It’s almost twenty minutes later, right when the clicking has begun, the wire snaps, you turn to look at where the sound had come from. You watch as it bunches and curls, stopping at the tops of your shoes.
“Finnick.” You say, but he’s trying to make a swipe at Peeta.
He’s gone, running down the slope, leaving you and Finnick to stand there, dumbfounded. It has to be the careers, they’re not on the beach. They’ve been stalking you the entire time. And now that you’re split, it’s the perfect time to attack.
“Stay here.” Finnick orders, running after Peeta. “Stay!”
He disappears into the jungle, leaving you by the tree. A part of you wonders if you should go running after him, because he’s supposed to be guarding you. You know better than to move, your feet firmly planted in the grass and dirt. The careers won’t come here, they’re too busy.
Your hand reaches to grab onto the tree, needing something to lean onto, because the ache in your feet is beginning to become unbearable. Finnick told you to stay here, so that’s what you do. You won’t move a muscle, if it means that you make it out of this jungle tonight.
You don’t know how much time passes before a cannon goes, fifteen minutes, maybe? You hold your breath, waiting, straining to hear if there’s any yelling happening out there. Finnick calling for Katniss and Johanna, Peeta calling for Katniss, anything.
It’s too quiet.
Your eyes slide to see the stick that you’d set aside earlier, as well as yards of the wire that you’d unraveled to have on standby in the case of an emergency. If your plan didn’t work. While it was supposed to electrify and kill the careers, there was a good chance that it’d short-circuit the force field, too.
Now, with the wire here and nowhere near the water, you need another way to fry the field. No one is going to make it out of this arena alive if you don’t fix this.
A new idea creeps into your mind, whispering in your ear, telling you that a sacrifice has to be made. Your eyes go from the stick, to the malfunctioned square on the force field that you’d spotted earlier, finding that it is, still, very much there. If you can’t do it through water, you can surely do it with the tree and the force field, you just need something to act in between…
The knife.
You move for the first time in thirty minutes, falling to your knees as you dig through the grass to find the knife that Finnick gave you in the Cornucopia. You find it only a few feet away, pulling it into your hands. You then remove the wire from the stick, wrapping it around the blade, instead.
You look at the force field, taking deep breaths to calm the beating in your chest. This could go two ways. The first way is that you drive this knife into the square, your fingers lock around the handle of the knife, and you die. Or, you get electrocuted, and by some miracle you walk out of this alive.
That’s all you want. To get out of here, and have a chance at seeing your brother again. He can’t live in this world without you, he won’t do it. He’ll have no one if you die. But, if this means that he won’t have to live in fear of the Hunger Games, then you’ll do it.
You’ll do it a thousand times.
You get to your feet, gripping and fixing the knife in your hand. You approach the force field, swinging your arm back, aiming for the square. And the second it connects, there’s a loud zapping sound, and then you’re airborne.
—
You breathe in deeply through your nose, as if you haven’t in the past ten minutes. A tight and sharp pain hits the center of your chest, stopping you in the middle. Your eyes open, staring at the bright, silvery light overhead as you try to carefully let the air out.
Your eyebrows draw in, turning your head to the side, blinking away the blurry vision. There’s several beds to your right, and on one of them, it looks like Katniss Everdeen is hooked up to machines, tubes in her arms. They did it, they got you out. Where’s everyone else?
You can’t help the groan you let out as you sit up, wincing. You place a hand over your lower stomach, and you’re able to see that your skin is covered in soot and blood. You rub it away the bed you can, swinging your legs off the bed to get on your feet.
If it were the Capitol that got you out, they would’ve sedated you, and ensured that you wouldn’t wake up during the ride. This is the work of Haymitch, letting you wake up on your own to go to them.
You drag your feet through the room, leaving Katniss as you pass through a doorway, entering a narrow hallway. With your free hand, you reach to hold onto the wall as you go. Your forearm is bandaged, they must’ve gotten the tracker out. It seems as if their stitching could use work, because there’s blood seeping through, more than there should be.
You don’t care.
The metal door at the end of the hall is open a quarter of the way. You push it open, and on the other side, you can see Haymitch, Finnick, and the Head Gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee.
Haymitch looks up first, letting out a noise, prompting the other two to look. “Back from the dead.”
“(Y/n).” Finnick breathes. He’s dressed in a grey robe, the same that you are. He shuffles around the table, opening his arms.
You let him hug you, pulling you into his body tightly. You squeeze your eyes, the pain being more than you were prepared for, but you laugh, hugging him back.
“It was a smart idea, trying the knife on the force field.” Plutarch tells you. “It’s what sparked Katniss to do the same. It caused some chaos, we weren’t able to get everyone out, but we didn’t expect to, anyway.”
You pull away from the hug, “Who did we leave?”
“Johanna and Peeta.” Haymitch says.
Your eyebrows twitch, “Who was the cannon?”
“Chaff,” Finnick says. “I don’t think you were awake when the other cannon went off. Peeta killed Brutus.”
“What about Enobaria?”
“Taken by the Capitol, as well.” Plutarch says.
“Oh.” You breathe, “Is there somewhere I can sit?” Finnick leads you to a chair, your whole body aches when you go to sit down. When the motion is done, the relief is immediate. “So, where to now?”
“District Thirteen.”
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick fanfic#finnick oneshot#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick x yn#finnick x y/n#thg#the hunger games#requested#fluff
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lol guess who's back!!
Anyways got another idea.
Outsiders pov- Theif or assassin given a job by some shady boss to.. deal with a CEO at a gala. But not just any CEO, Bruce "Gotham's Prince" Wayne himself. Seems like he has many enemies.
They sneak into the gala. But it's easy, it feels as if security barely tried to keep them out.
Their first attempt is to dr*g the WE owner's drink, but somehow that doesn't work—the clumsy sonovabitch 'accidentally' spilled it on Lex's suit. Then the assassin attempts a discret stab though the back, but somehow they can barely even penetrate skin.. either the weapon is dull or he's meta.
They try over and over yet somehow Bruce escapes each time before they just give up. They return to their employer and explain the situation before demanding they never hire them for such a job again.
hello again!!! ooooh this is so interesting.... the hardest part of this is defo gonna be having to think up ways to kill him and then have him dodge the attemot, but im sure itll be great! 😅
Trenton didn't know why he took the job. Well, no. He did. It was money. Easy money, too. He had looked into the guy he was supposed to kill, as he looked into everyone he had to kill, and Bruce Wayne? Quite honestly he could probably just leave out a butter knife and the idiot would find a way to kill himself.
But... the issue with looking into him was that... Well, he had learned about Bruce Wayne. And while he needed this money, desperately, the Wayne dude... he just.. wasn't the person Trent wanted to kill. He had killed plenty of people over the course of his career. Tons of them had ben decent people. But they had all done something to justify their deaths. Bruce Wayne? There wasn't a single thing wrong with the dude.
He was just a fucking nice guy. Ditsy? Sure. A little slow? Definitely. Richer than god? Oh yeah. But he wasn't a rich prick asshole. He donated his money. He adopted orphans and gave them better lives. He protected his employees. Trenton hadn't even found one rude comment about his fucking ability for Christ's Sake!
There were, of course, the usual hating comments or posts, usually political enemies, people who felt intimidated by Wayne's wealth and public popularity. But no matter how deep Trenton dug, he couldn't find any real evidence that their hatred was warranted. None. It was infuriating and he had finally given up after a few hours, slamming his computer closed in disgust.
Maybe that was a good enough reason to kill him. His utter lack of fucking badness. Still, even as Trenton convinced himself of it, or at least tried to, and focused on all the money and not the person he was killing, he couldn't stop that sinking feeling in his gut. There weren't many kills in his life Trent regretted, or felt bad about doing.
This one? As Trent crept through the vents of the Wayne Committee Meeting Ballroom, because of fucking course Wayne had built an entire building dedicated to celebrating other people and big donations, which was then used to help teach dance to traumatized kids when it wasn't being used for fancy events. This one Trent didn't know how to feel. He gritted his teeth, quickly unscrewing one of the vents so he could peer down below.
He had poisoned Wayne's drink on his way in, and was now just waiting. Trent couldn't lie to himself. He was good at his job. It was why they had called him. Which was, admittedly, a little suspicious because as far as he was aware, Bruce Wayne didn't need the best assassin to kill him. Maybe he wasn't aware enough.
And promptly three minutes later, without having taken a single sip of his champagne, Wayne was spilling all of it down Lex Luthor's suit. Of course. "Oh my goodness!" Wayne wailed, grabbing napkins from nearby. "How absolutely dreadful!! I'm so clumsy!" Lex glowered at him, smacking his hands away as he angrily stomped off.
Wayne pouted after him, then quickly bent to help a nearby server who was wiping his drink off the floor. "That's my bad, here Gabe, let me help." Of course he knew the servers name. Trent growled, pulling out his sniper. It would be messier, sure, but it would be over quickly. He would be out and gone before anyone even noticed the billionaire hit the floor.
"Father." a gods damned child approached, tugging his sleeve. Wayne bent down to eye level, dipping his head so the kid could whisper in his ear. Of course he was a good father to boot. The trigger became a little slippery. Wayne nodded at his son, standing, and patted his head affectionately. The boy scowled, but wrapped his arms around his father's legs in a quick hug before departing.
Wayne smiled, fond, and made a few gestures aimed at the older boy standing nearby who intercepted the kid. The man, an almost identical copy of Wayne, though Trenton thought only the youngest was his biological son, dipped his head in a nod, and took the littler kids hand, steering him away.
Trenton lowered his eye to the scope. Wayne made his way over to the drinks table. "Come on..." Trenton murmured. The last thing he wanted was to take out two people in one hit, though due to his research it seemed that everyone else around besides the workers and a few other nice people, had worse records than Wayne by far.
It helped that Wayne was about ten inches taller than everyone else, but Trent didn't want to take any chances. Wayne reached for his phone, sending a quick message to someone who's name Trent couldn't read, but who had an emoji of a lightning bolt, or a flash next to it. It didn't matter, really.
Now. There was no one else in the vicinity. Probably because a blond haired girl and another black haired boy were drawing attention at the other side of the room, but Trent didn't worry about that. Just so long as Wayne was alone. The pulled the trigger. And watched as Wayne didn't move. Didn't flinch. And most definitely didn't die.
"What the fuck..." Trent let the word drag, setting down his gun. That was it. He was going down there. It would be riskier. But he had no other choice anymore. His bullet had just... disappeared.
Trent maneuvered his way to the floor, fixing the lapels of his suit quickly before striding across the room, pretending to head to the food table where Wayne was still standing, now talking to a man with red hair. "Appreciate it Barry, feel free to hang around a bit more if you like." The other man, Barry, laughed, clapping Wayne on the back with what seemed like genuine comradery, not the faked laughter and sucking up everyone else seemed to do.
"Thanks B, but I'm heading home. I don't belong on this side of the river anyway." Wayne shook his head ruefully, but gave the man a hug, wishing him well. Barry nodded and disappeared into the crowd, nothing more than a whisper.
Wayne seemed a little put out now that Barry had gone, but recovered quickly, sticking a small sandwich in his mouth and rolling back his shoulders, squaring them, and turned, heading back into the crowd. It was perfect. Trent followed at an easy distance, looping around the dance floor before brushing past, his knife sliding easily into his hand from his sleeve.
Wayne didn't even twitch as the dagger pierced his side, continuing his conversation like nothing had happened. Trent circled around again, watching from the corner for him to notice the blood, at least, and panic, or fall over. Nothing happened.
He did notice the older man from earlier, Wayne's carbon copy, appear, and murmur something in his ear, their bodies almost flush against each other, hands tucked into what seemed to be their pockets, but then he was gone again, and Wayne didn't seem any worse for wear.
It was so incredibly frustrating. Trent groaned, moving on to his last and final plan, and if it didn't work, he gave up. The Court could take their money and shove it, he was not going to try again against this fucking meta.
Trent shoved off the wall, moving closer to Wayne, who had once again excused himself from the party, moving to the open window for a breath of fresh air. Perfect. If he somehow dodged dying from a thirty foot drop. No way.
Trenton moved closer, hand holding a server tray high, and with little difficulty bumped him, sending him toppling over the side. Done. Finished. Finally. Trenton waited for the thump, the crack of bones, the sickening crunch of a neck.... and nothing happened.
He glanced down and spotted Wayne, clamored against the wall below and scaling down it with ease, clearly unaware he was being watched. That was it.
Trent gave up. "Good play Mr. Wayne." He grumbled, and disappeared out the front doors. He wasn't about to try and go toe to toe with a man that couldn't, or wouldn't die. No way.
"Hey, hire someone else the next time you want to send them on a wild goose chase errand." He cursed the Talon. "Fuck your money, I'm never trying to kill Wayne again. Bastard." And he walked out.
#uhh it ended kinda poorly#but i hope you were amused#and enjoyed it#batfam#batman#bruce wayne#trenton#hes so done#at this point he does want to kill bruce#but he is like aint no way#because bruce just wont die#anyway#hope you liked#sry it took so long to finish
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Jonathan & El cw: implied past child abuse
The first time he hears her call herself bad it strikes him so hard in his sternum that he can't buck up and do something about it.
Jonathan looks at this girl, his sister, who has saved the world time and again, who had saved his brother from a slow death in a terrible place, and she lays claim to a badness that makes him feel kind of sick, actually.
It's the same feeling he got when Will started calling himself a freak, the same feeling he got when Jonathan himself first started learning to play music loud enough he couldn't hear his parents fighting in the other room, even years before he taught that trick to Will.
It's a feeling, ultimately, that swallows stability whole and leaves you to stumble across uneven ground until you find your footing again.
Jonathan just has to-- find his footing again. And that means someone needs to talk to El.
"Because I am," she says when he asks why she calls herself that, sitting at the kitchen table with two mugs of her latest culinary obsession between them-- hot chocolate.
"But what makes you think you're bad?" Jonathan asks, genuinely curious, genuinely getting thrown to the ground by the shake in the earth. "I don't think you're bad."
El presses her lips together, eyebrows low over her downturned gaze as she looks intensely at the little marshmallows sitting on top of her drink like she's trying to solve the puzzle of the world.
Jonathan supposes she kind of is, in a way, contemplating human nature after spending so many years being told what to be, how to fit within a certain set of parameters, how to behave the way Papa wanted her to.
That's another thing that gives him big feelings. Those feelings could probably be solved by caving Brenner's face in, though.
"I have hurt people," is what she lands on, still not looking up but the scowl line between her brows deepening.
And there's no denying it, she has hurt people; she's killed people, as a matter of fact, and she's watched them die, so there's no point in dodging the reality of that here, in trying to say you didn't mean to when he knows she did.
Jonathan opens his mouth and then shuts it again, though, catches himself in the act of trying to tell her that the good she's done outweighs the bad because, for one, he doesn't know if that's true, and for two, maybe it doesn't matter.
"You know," he clears his throat, elbows digging into the table and shoulders hunching up around his ears, "stories-- like Will's books and Hop's TV?-- have really obvious villains most of the time. Bad guys, right?"
El looks up at him, thinks about it, nods.
"Right."
"Okay," Jonathan keeps going, "well, that's because people have always been trying to find-- easy answers for hard things. Things like good and bad. So they created monsters who only ever hurt and heroes who only ever help.
"But, just because it helps us understand why people do bad things, it doesn't mean that-- none of it is really that-- black and white?"
"Black and white?" El questions, but she's not pushing back against him so Jonathan has hope that this is working in some way or another.
"Like, clear and obvious. Like everything has just one answer, but that's not really the case, is it?"
"No," she says with zero hesitation. "Some things are-- confusing."
"Yeah, they are. People are," he pulls his mug closer to himself and taps his fingers along the ceramic.
"So there aren't... bad people?" she looks confused, like she doesn't believe it, like she's actively losing faith in his judgement, so Jonathan shakes his head quickly.
"It's-- It's more like there are just people," he flounders. "And I really-- I don't think I've ever met a person that's only ever been good or only ever been bad."
El looks down at her hot chocolate. Grabs the can of whipped cream and sprays more on top of her cooling drink.
Doesn't take a sip.
"You've only ever been good," she says it slowly, obvious confusion still touching her tone in ways that don't even overpower the rush of emotion Jonathan gets and knowing she really feels that way about him of all people.
He breathes sharply through his nose, opens his mouth and shuts it twice before he manages to say, "I've hurt people too, El."
It's not going to be an easy thing, Jonathan thinks, making sure she understands that people are largely just the choices they make and that people are allowed to choose to change, to get better, and that the people who hurt her, the people she hurt in return, won't be missed by anyone who loves El but might be missed by someone and that no matter how complicated it is and no matter how messy and no matter how surface level wrong it may be she is still not bad.
It's not going to be an easy thing, made clear by the way she looks at him now and visibly tries to make sense of the fact that someone she had deemed as good could possibly have ever done wrong, because those people in that fucking lab drilled absolutism into her head from birth, but fuck. Fuck.
"You're just a person, is all I'm saying," he implores, because it's going to take longer than one conversation over hot chocolate to make any of it make a modicum of sense, even to him. "You're a person and we love you."
Something shakes loose in her gaze at that, a tension releasing from her shoulders, because if there's one thing Hopper and Joyce and those damn kids have done right it's making this make sense to her.
"I love you too," she tells him, and Jonathan has the self control of a saint to not start crying.
When she adds more whipped cream to her drink, he just follows her lead.
#dot post#dot fic#jonathan byers#el hopper#the byers hoppers#jonathan & el#stranger things#was going through my drafts bc I have the worst case of brain fog I'm trying to shake loose and found this half written#so have this attempt at jostling words out of my body!!#because jonathan and el deserve a sibling moment
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blood red strings.
a lee heeseung drabble !
genre : angst, action!au , spy!au, soulmate!au.
pairing : lee heeseung x gn!reader, enemies to ?, secret pining.
warnings : descriptions of blood, weapons, injuries, bruises, death, murder. cussing ( I think that's about it ) not proofread/edited.
author's note : idk. thas the only explanation I have for this. :D it was supposed to be short but oh well. oh fucking well. enjoy and let me know what you think !! Inspired by a pic I saw of two people point a gun at each other and a red string being formed ( I can't find it :< ) also my ENHYPEN DEBUT!! WOO FINALLY!!! I imagined Heeseung in this and I just went along with the flow because I legit could not get spy!hee out of my brain...... maybe I do love this more than I should and maybe I might end up making this a full fic ha. oh welp enjoy 😆😆😆😆😆 also other works will be uploaded soon ( the ones I've promised I know you have been waiting for a while 😭 ) edit : THE TYPOS ESP THE FUCKUNG ONE I WANT TO KAY EM ES.
word count : 2.3K
You felt it before you could see it.
The pain shot up your entire body, alarming your brain before you could see what caused it. Otherwise you would have even been able to dodge the cause.
Said cause smirked at you, as much as you'd rather burn yourself than to ever admit it, he looked annoyingly handsome, despite his own condition not being better than yours.
A cool breeze passed through the late night, typically a time when everyone would be sleeping peacefully in their beds, you'd like to think you would be too but you knew that wishing a peaceful night's sleep was as good as thinking a bullet shot would not hurt.
Both are far too different from how reality was.
Your knuckles ached, torn and ripped skin bleeding out. The right side of your face hurt, being punched twice was probably the reason. Your stomach hurt too, having been thrown against the concrete floor of the terrace not an ideal place to land was probably it.
Lucky for you, the adrenaline flowing through you, made it feel as though none of the aches actually affected you. Sort of distracting you from even thinking about how much it actually hurts.
Dodging another punch, you swiftly kicked Heeseung's leg, making him lose control himself for a moment, a moment you knew to never miss and you turned around hurdling another kick at his side.
His groans of pain indicated the impact of your blows as it was now your turn to be smug with him as you smiled in satisfaction.
"Aww did that hurt you?" Crossing your arms at him, as he laid on the ground for the briefest of moments, jaw clenching and shutting his eyes to take a deep breath, irritation growing within him when he heard your taunting.
Standing up while trying not to fall down again, his back now faced you.
Clicking his tongue, you couldn't see the anger in his eyes. He had enough.
"Let's just put an end to this pathetic game. It's getting tiring and frankly I have better things to do."
He didn't want to get into what he was actually sent there to do. He knew he would have do to it, but somehow, he wanted to stall it as much as he could.
And now this was the consequence of the stalling, his own state being terrible.
Scoffing at him, you raised an eyebrow,
"As if I have time to waste on you." You spat, venom laced words at him as you scanned his back, more than you should as you took in how broad his shoulders were from the way the black suit blazer stretched across them.
Without wasting a moment, Heeseung grabbed his gun from the holster that was under his shirt. Pulling it out, he swiftly turned around, now facing you.
"Well then, you won't have any time at all it seems." He pointed it at you, raising his own battered hand, his bloody thumb clicking the revolver to load it.
Smirking more widely at his actions, while pulling out your own revolver from your holster under your now maroon shirt, you pointed it at him.
Standing in mirroring positions, guns to your heads, you stared at him directly in the eye.
“It also seems like your time is over, sad how you’d die from the bullet of your worst enemy.”
You found amusement in your statement as your grin shifted to more of a mocking one.
“Darling we’d be dying together, far too romantic don’t you think?” His low voice rang in your ears, glaring at him and you’d excuse the warmth rushing to your cheeks from the mere nickname even though he’d called you way too many over the years of your rivalry as just blood rushing to your head.
Your gaze shifted to the clock tower behind him, the golden roman numerals glinting from the city light, reading the time to have been two minutes to twelve.
Two minutes to your twenty-fifth birthday.
Snorting at the irony of it, you shook your head. You might as well count it as your deathday considering, surely you wouldn’t be spared after this. You both waited for this for too long, having spent almost three years at each other’s throats and you’d be damned if you would let him escape alive as well. One thing you were sure about was you definitely won’t be spared as well.
It was always an eye for an eye and a bullet for a bullet. A death for a death.
It would be exactly twenty five years of your existence if you died today. Not a day more not a day less, a perfect twenty five and in a sickening way you always loved perfect things and this coincidence was no different.
“It would be devastating for you to die before you even meet your poor soulmate.” He grinned at you with a malicious glint and you felt your heart slightly drop at this forgotten reality.
A soulmate you’d never meet. A soulmate whose heart would feel like it would be ripped out before even meeting you. A soulmate who would feel the same thing your mother did when your father was brutally murdered. A soulmate who might spiral into a depression which could even lead into their own death. Just like your own mother.
No. No you couldn't think of this. You couldn't step back from something you'd been trained to do a decade ago. You couldn't. Not for something you found was more of a burden from universe rather than something special like most.
"Lee, if you know me well enough. You know that I don't fucking believe in this shit." You hissed at him biting your tongue, a tendency you did when you lied.
A lie because you did believe they existed, you saw it yourself but the reason it was a burden was because it didn't automatically mean a happy ending, you experienced it, you lived through that alternate ending and saw the toll of it on someone who was supposed to be the most precious person in your life.
"Ah ah ah don't lie now Y/N. You and I both know your pathetic self believes in all of that universally bonded shit." He shifted from holding the gun to his right hand, stepping closer to you and the grip on yours tightened.
"You're saying as though yours will see you alive." You could feel the side of your head aching, a trail of blood dripping all the way to your chin. A drop landing on your new tie dye maroon shirt splattered in dark and light hints of the same.
"I'd rather die while killing you than care about that nonsense. You see, unlike you, I know I'd never have a soulmate." The taunting smirk on his face slightly dimmed because even though Lee Heeseung was true to his words, a small part of his heart was still saddened at the thought of not meeting his supposed other half when he was supposed to.
He recalled his birthday, just a few months from yours, waiting to see if it was finally the year where the universe gave him the supposed greatest gift possible, his other half but no red string of fate showed up on his pinky and he smacked the shit out of Jake when his friend tried to comfort him that maybe his soulmate had also not yet turned twenty five.
Yet. Yet he threw those thoughts out of his mind when he realized what would be the end result of tonight. The end result leading to his own…end.
The loud ticking off the clock grew louder as it neared the twelve mark, indicating a new day, indicating your day.
You deeply inhaled, smiling at your nemesis, taking in the details of his face because well it was the last time you'd ever see him…or anyone probably.
"And oh! How could I forget? It's your birthday isn't it? Here's my little present then."
The clock chimed loudly, the vibrations running through you from the closeness and you tried not to wince from the loudness.
"Happy birthday Love."
Before you could respond to him ;
You saw it before you could feel it.
A dark red thread, looping itself around the pinky of your hand and your eyes widened, no words being able to form from your gaping mouth.
Now you felt the tightening of it. The red string harshly tugged at your pinky as it stretched outwards. It wasn't the only thing that felt suffocating because your throat felt like it closed up as you breathed out heavily.
A loud shot rang in your ears back, your focus still trained on the thread extending itself until it didn't.
It stopped.
Right in front of him.
It stopped in front of Lee fucking Heeseung.
He was frozen, ironically mirroring the same position as you once again but the only difference was the trigger on his gun was pushed backwards.
His eyes followed the movement of the string, pausing and holding his breath as it began to move.
It moved and moved and moved until.
Until it wrapped itself around his wrist.
And then he moved. The gun in his hand fell to the ground as he felt the dark red string tighten on his wrist.
You screamed out in pain before you could even comprehend what happened. Only now feeling the shot to your chest. The gun in your hand slipping from your grasp to the ground.
In your own stupor you didn't even realise you'd launched a few steps backwards, an impact caused by the bullet shot, now dropping to your knees as you put your hand to your chest.
Now it was his turn to feel it before he could see it, see you.
Heeseung felt it before he saw you, grabbing his own chest, feeling as though someone ripped his heart out.
"No…no, this…this can't be happening!" He coughed out as he tried to ease the pain in his chest, tears welling up in his eyes.
You sobbed out pathetically as you tried to put pressure on your chest to stop the bleeding.
Heeseung's gaze turned towards you and before he knew it, he gave into the string pulling him towards you as he rushed to you, dropping on his knees when he reached you.
"You…could have waited for one fucking minute you-" You spat out as you shut your eyes, not being able to even sit up straight, letting yourself fall forward.
A few minutes ago, he would have rejoiced at your state but now…in the matter of one sick twisted cosmic joke, he felt like his heart was being gutted while he held you in his arms.
"I…didn't. I didn't know I just…I didn't even think it could ever be…you." He didn't know what to do as he tried to think of something to do, what he could possibly do.
It wasn't like he was any better, he could feel the pain you were feeling only yours was actually there while his was more due to your freshly fated bond.
He laid you down on his lap, pulling off his blazer, bunching it up and pressing it to your chest.
You laughed humorlessly at his words, "Well it wasn't like I was expecting my soulmate to be you."
You let the tears flow as you looked up at him, pressing your hands on his own. The sparks flowing through you like an electric shock and for a moment right there, you could see why they described holding hands with your soulmates was exactly how you felt. An electric spark.
"Maybe this was how it's meant to be. For me to die, ultimately in your arms, my best enemy and my…only soulmate." You smiled at him, your tears glistening your cheeks. The most devastating part being your smile was a genuine one from the sincerity in your eyes.
He let out the whimper he'd been holding back, his own tears mixing with the blood on his face, and oh, he looked like a messy art piece, one that was only meant for you to look at in your final moments.
"No, I…please don't. It hurts, I can't…" His words came out in broken whispers, contrasting his past self who promised he'd rather jump into a lake full of sharks than to ever beg you.
"Didn't you say it would be romantic if we died together? Well then, Romeo and Juliet be damned." You jocked around, coughing as you learnt that trying to laugh when you have a bullet in your chest wasn't the most ideal.
Heeseung glared at you as he clenched his molars in anger, cursing at himself.
He wished and oh he fucking wished he waited one minute. Maybe then, maybe then he'd be able to change his perspective on you. A perspective that was already there, buried deep in the lockers of his mind, in folders of memories he had with you, how he saw you, how he thought of you.
A perspective he longed to think of since he met you but alas reality was far too different.
"And I never said thank you for you gift did I?" You grinned widely at him,
"Don't…just no." He whispered in such a soft tone that you were probably hearing for the first time in your life.
"Thank you Heeseung." You could feel the weight of the world in your eyes, moments of your entire twenty five years flashing like a film, some the happiest and some the most tragic ones.
It proved to you a question you'd asked yourself when you were 14, whether indeed a person's entire life flashes when they die. And now you got your answer first hand, nearly a decade later.
"And oh…fuck you." You whispered out as you felt lighter than ever and then, it was all over.
Over for you. Over for him.
A soulmate who he never thought existed, taken from him cruelly before he could even see the string turn a brighter shade of red, a shade that indicated true love.
A soulmate who he himself ended.
Indeed. What a devastating reality.
all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.
writingmeraki Ⓒ 2023
links ! : main navigation | enhypen masterlist
#enhypen#enhypen heeseung#lee heeseung#heeseung x reader#heeseung x yn#enhypen x reader#enhypen fanfic#enhypen drabbles#enhypen fics#heeseung#heeseung angst#heeseung fic#heeseung fanfic#heeseung drabbles#enhypen angst#kpop fic#kpop fanfic#x male reader#x female reader#x gn reader#x gender neutral reader#[ pri works ]
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part 5 of buring rage au, though its more a group of thoughts (last part here)
- the strawhats have multiple encounters with stealth black and the other vinsmokes before sanji burns it all down, none of which ever end happily. the strawhats were hopeful going in the first time, right up until stealth black directed an attack at robin and chopper, which in turn causes zoro to lash out despite luffys commands not to
- they never notice that he only ever sends attacks in the girls direction, never actually making direct, in your face attacks. tbf, sanji doesn't realize hes doing it either. subconsciously hes able to distance himself from the attack when its a broad stroke attack. this is how he handles attacking other kingdoms and communities as well, trying to disassociate the damage with his attack in particular. if they can dodge, its fine...
- this opinion doesnt hold up in the long run, but it only causes him to get worse, lashing out harder and harder
- similarly, his run ins with the strawhats start out almost fun, as they actually gave him echoes of other feelings beyond anger. but this doesn't last as he learns more of the truth and sees how the strawhats keep holding back. they dont hold up to the image hes been building in his mind. and he feels theyre letting their own emotions blind them from the truth that he and the others need to be taken out. and in turn, this makes him even madder because they have everything at their fingertips and they STILL cant make the right choice, whereas he had to sneak and dig out the truth, just trying to make sense if his existence.
- the exception, to a point, is zoro. who appears to be up holding the promise he made in wano, even if sanji cant remember it. but thats the key word, appears. because despite going all out, he can never make killing blows. he tries to deny it, tries to stick to his mind over heart methods, but its rough.
- it doesnt help that hes going directly against luffys orders, causing discord amongst the crew. they only avoid a repeat of water 7 because zoro refuses to fight luffy when he lashes out over attacking sanji. he knows hes technically in the wrong, but he made a promise. he doesn't help his case by never telling the others, but he figures it wouldn’t change their opinion.
- on luffys end, hes barely holding it together. he had front row seats when sanji was initially killed and it triggered him so badly that he froze up (reminding him of aces death), allowing his body to fall into the ocean. as far as hes concerned, everything going forward is his fault as the captain. he does lash out when zoro doesnt stand down but usopp is able to get him to pull back, recalling how things went at water 7, and how he doesnt want to lose zoro either, no matter how badly his choice hurts him.
- the only thing keeping zoro from leaving the crew is luffys refusal to accept it. zoro offered after stating he wouldnt back down, luffy denied it flat out.
- but it doesnt really solve anything either. they still dont agree and know how every encounter could turn into a three way battle, which is just counterproductive.
- robin in particular is actually extremely upset with zoro. he expected nami to be angry, which she is, but robin comes in like a bat out of hell at him. outside of ennies lobby, the others never saw her lose her cool so bad. this is only because shes able to read both sides so well, seeing through sanjis facade (in a way that he himself cant even see) and how zoro is giving up on him. she basically reads him for filth, leaves zoro unsteady, and storms off.
- it feels like a betrayal of everything they did for her, in her opinion, going back on the people they were. she doesnt care if sanji hurts her, not when hes hurting so much worse. she knows that this would upset him were he in his right mind, but she figures theyll handle that when hes safely back with them
- this leaves zoro more shaken then he cares to admit, desperate to deny his inability to uphold his side of the promise. meditating hasnt been helping much lately, either, unable to fully calm his thoughts with the whole crew being so shaken up and his struggle between the promise, the desires of the crew, and the desires he himself has been pushing down, refusing to acknowledge. hes afraid of what follows if he does...
- at the end of the day, he doesnt know what *he* wants anymore. he hasnt been this lost since kuina passed away...
- as such, its extremely tense on the sunny
- it doesnt help that theyre all barely eating. entering the galley is hard, especially after the revelation of what happened to sanji. brook and jimbe are the ones who most often handle cooking meals, thanks to both having handled such loss in the past. which isnt to say theyre ok now, theg really arent, but theyrs keeping it together because the others need them to.
- luffy is a concern as he, in particular, has been forgoing eating. his appetite is in shambles. this in turn impacts his fighting, as hes not in tip top form to handle any big battles. jimbe and chopper attempt to use this reasoning to get him to eat more, but its success varies
- nami is conflicted, oscillating back and forth between agreeing with either zoro or luffy. being in line from an attack by sanji shook her up a great deal. her emotions keep blurring between anger, sorrow, and fear. she doesnt want to lose anyone else and shes afraid of them attempting to bring him back, just to realize their sanji is gone forever.
- usopp is firmly on luffys side, though he does get namis concern and is kinda right therd with her on how terrifying the concept is. but hes refusing to give up until its been proven 100% without a doubt that sanji cant be saved. he couldn't be there during wci, so he'll give everything now - though he could do with less flaming kicks to the head
- robin at one point was able to get a fingernail from sanji during a fight (dont question her, she has her ways) and has it made into vevire card to better track him
- it was extremely unnerving to watch it ignite the second it was completed... at the very least, its not burning *fast* but a clock is clearly ticking...
#one piece#blackleg sanji#sanji#roronoa zoro#monkey d. luffy#straw hat pirates#ditto rambles#burning rage au
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Tickled to Death
Pact of punishment level: maxed. Time face the scariest enemy you didn’t know lived in hell: your own boyfriend.
Zagreus “helps” Thanatos get out from between a rock and a hard place. For @vqler, who GOD I’m so sorry I’m late but I hope you like me petrifying and obliterating Thanatos for you in the name of Christmas ❤ Much love to you, much love and thanks to @hypahticklish for hosting this year’s @squealing-santa. Kudos and love to everyone who posted for the event this year, happy holidays, and happy new year!
SFW. Potential warnings: just “returning to writing” writing lol. Hades: Zagreus/Thanatos tickle fic.
Word count: 3,075
~*~
Zagreus had attempted enough escapes from the underworld to know, upon even entering a chamber, when something was immediately off. He daresay he was experienced by this point; there were things he’d come to expect. Hordes of enemies, unleashed with love from his father? Certainly. The unavoidable spiting of and smiting from god-cousins for the favor of other ones? Often. Blood, death, and darkness? Absolutely. What he found waiting for him upon crossing from his most recent ferry to the nearest Asphodelian dock was, in a total understatement, wildly unexpected.
Save for the familiar sound of bubbling, hissing lava and distant magma falls, the chamber was quiet. Zagreus entered as he always did, light on his burning feet and weapon unsheathed, ready to dodge or strike at a moment’s notice. He needn’t have, though, as he soon realized the chamber was befuddlingly empty. Sure, he’d encountered chambers with no enemies in them, either at first glance because they had just yet to spawn or at all because their presence was dissuaded by some form of boon or blessing. But the chamber he currently found himself in had no healing pool, no shop, and no allies, let alone enemies. It was just plain empty.
So busy with examining the room for some sort of clever trap, Zagreus didn’t even notice the obvious obstacle until he fully tripped over it, sprawling onto the rock with his weapon—Stygius, this time—clattering a couple of feet away. Zagreus looked back to see what had caused him to stumble, and his brow furrowed deeper in confusion. A scythe, large and dramatic and adorned with gold and a piercing purple eye lay abandoned on the rock, its usual wielder, the physically and emotively grey demigod that Zagreus had the biggest soft spot for, was nowhere to be seen. Or was he?
Zagreus turned his head, looking from Thanatos’ weapon to his own. A couple of feet away. His gaze lifted slowly upward. The grey and currently half-rocky skin had blended quite well into the environment like a natural stalagmite, and it wasn’t until he was actually looking for it that Zagreus could see that Thanatos was there, and likely not going anywhere any time soon.
The prince rose, grabbed and sheathed his sword as he rounded the Thanatos-shaped pillar until he faced the front. Zagreus had been grinning already upon realizing what he’d stumbled upon, but that grin grew all the bigger and brighter when he saw the normally brooding Thanatos looking flustered and positively grumpy.
“Don’t—” Thanatos said, sighing in defeat when Zagreus snorted and burst into bright laughter that he tried and failed to hide behind his hand. “Don’t laugh.”
"I'm sorry, but can you blame me?" Zagreus said, nearly falling into another fit of giggling when he rapped a knuckle lightly against Thanatos' chest and the action produced a satisfying thunk. "What happened?" He asked, but it was fairly obvious: petrification. Gorgons were aplenty in Asphodel, and none of them so friendly as Dusa. Most of Thanatos' body was still affected by the curse, frozen in place and turned a stony stormy grey. By the looks of it and the fact that he could talk, the petrification was naturally draining from Thanatos' form from the top first, leaving the rest of him to wait out the "thawing" process in the stiff and stiffness-inducing position of both arms partially raised as those blocking with his scythe, and both feet floating their usual few inches from the ground.
"I was waiting for your slow ass," Thanatos grumbled, drawing the prince to close his cursory examination with a snort. "Expected for us to have one of our contests, but a gorgon caught me from behind. You'd be standing in her remains, if I hadn't vaporized her."
"Remind me to stay off your bad side."
"“Stay off.”"
“Shut up.” Zagreus walked a slow circle around Thanatos. He cast his gaze outward, studying the chamber without the blinders of adrenaline and stress that tended to make things look fuzzy. He knew Thanatos was powerful, but—blood and darkness—he’d probably obliterated every shade within the next three chambers, let alone their current one. It was just a guess, but, with how thoroughly every trap had been tripped and every structural fault had been compromised simultaneously, as though from a massive blast, Zagreus was fairly certain that A. he and Thanatos were better than safe from shades for the time being, and B. even caught off guard, Thanatos did nothing at half-intensity. Drama queen. “So how long have you been like this?”
Thanatos grunted, straining to look over his shoulder at Zagreus when the prince moved fully behind him. “I don’t know. I didn’t count, as I was counting on you to be quick. Thanks for picking this one time to be the one where you drag your feet.”
Zagreus didn’t respond to the jab with more than a thoughtful hum. He was too busy watching the petrification dissipate, the cold stone color receding like a lava wave at low tide at a slavug’s pace. Ugh.
“I don’t know how long I’ve been like this, and I have no idea how long I’ll be like this, since I usually have you to cover me.”
“It’s pretty quick, from the hits I’ve taken.” Of course, Zagreus realized upon thinking it over, he was often petrified while surrounded by enemies, and the threat of being sent back down the Styx made him struggle against the enchantment with all his might. Maybe it was supposed to last a long time; he’d just be thin on patience and break himself out. “Helps if you wiggle.”
Thanatos scoffed, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “You are an amazing help.”
“Well, what do you suggest I—?”
“Just—” Thanatos huffed, neck and shoulders visibly straining where he tried to move them, move anything, “just keep watch to make sure nothing respawns. I didn’t even want you seeing me like this, let alone your father’s subjects.”
“Any shade would think they’ve gone mad with the heat before they accepted seeing you like this as real. Or they’d be laughed out of the House for such a ridiculous and unbelievable tale, you know that. But fine,” Zagreus replied with a yawn and set himself on a little guarding route around Thanatos, keeping an eye trained outward for ominous growling, keeping an ear pointed toward Thanatos to listen to his comical grunts and breathy swears of efforts, and letting his mind drift elsewhere.
When Zagreus found himself petrified on his escape attempts, a quick shake and healthy dose of stubbornness was all it took for him to bash his way to freedom and back to slashing shades to dust. There had been one time, though, when he’d found himself without monsters to slay beside the shade who’d landed a hit and then lazily floated away and straight into a fountain of lava. (Zagreus could understand enjoying a hot bath, but yikes…) With no adversaries, Zagreus had lacked his usual incentive to escape as quickly as possible. It was odd, to stop moving so thoroughly, without being able to so much as jiggle his leg or tap his fingers or click his tongue. His companion on-call at that time had been Dusa, and he couldn't think of anyone better to offer advice as to getting un-petrified than her. Luckily, the little gifted doll he kept like a keychain on his weapon didn't need to be physically or verbally invoked—that would make summoning under the onslaught of a dozen rakers or one very maltempered ROUS even more difficult—so he pictured the soft snakey toy, reached out with his mind, and called for his companion. In a flash, Dusa appeared, all smiles and polite shyness and readiness to stone and slaughter any foe that challenged the prince. Of course, there were none, but Zagreus' head had gotten enough feeling back to explain the situation to Dusa. Her advice was the same Zagreus had given to Thanatos in the present: wiggle around a bit. And she had, so helpfully, provided a new incentive via her trusty feather duster.
Recalling the event made Zagreus—well, first he flushed to the roots of his charcoal hair, and he was glad he'd come to stand behind Thanatos at that moment, and then—grin, delighted and devilish. "Actually…"
"What?" Thanatos tried to look over his shoulder at Zagreus once more, and found only the slightest more yield in his stone-struck muscles. He could almost touch his chin to his shoulder.
Zagreus side-stepped accommodatingly to face his captive companion. "Funny thing is, Than, you're not rock. You can feel just fine." He gave another demonstrative flick to Thanatos' shoulder. "It's a bitch when you're being bombarded with enemy attacks. But it might help you break free. If I just—"
It had been a tactical move for Zagreus to move around to Thanatos’ front. For one, it allowed him easy access to scribble his fingers under death incarnate’s arms unimpeded. For another, it meant he got to see Thanatos’ face morph from dismay to betrayal to amusement (however helped along and hysteric).
“Zagreus!” cried Thanatos, the sound colored with a splash of helpless laughter. Truly, it was funny how his technically perfect defensive position, when without his intimidating weapon, left him totally vulnerable to a little tickling. (Well. A lot of tickling. Zagreus was usually on the other end of these fights, and he had already decided he was not letting such a golden fleece of opportunity go by.)
"Yes, Than dear?" Zagreus teased, smile growing wide enough as his victim's when he saw the way Thanatos' cheeks began to burn violet. It took the strength of Sisyphus, but Zagreus looked away from Thanatos’ face, looking instead at his chest and trailing the progress of the curse. Still slow, but with a bit more stuttering speed. The stony color had dissipated all the way down to about his collarbone, leaving the topmost part of his collar golden and shining once more. “No need to thank me. I can already see the curse is lifting faster. You keep wriggling, I’ll keep helping, and you’ll be out in no time!”
A whine that slipped seamlessly into a squeal punctuated Thanatos’ chortling. “But—!”
The dual-eyed demigod slowed his attack, keeping his fingers and just a featherlight flutter in Thanatos’ armpits. It was far from rare for the pair to engage in all-out tickle wars that could border on brutal, but this may have been a bit much. Zagreus didn’t want to overwhelm Thanatos. He waited for even the slightest inkling of dissent.
Thanatos ducked his head, panting and giggling and bumping his forehead gently against Zagreus’. “If someone sees…” It was a thin excuse, between euphoric lips and yellow eyes burning with excitement, and Thanatos knew it.
Zagreus definitely knew it, holding Thanatos’ jaw in his hands to pull him in for a kiss that ended when the prince chuckled, low and wicked and delighted. “Darling, with how you smote those shades, we won’t be interrupted for awhile, I’m sure.” Thanatos’ eyes scrunched shut, and he bit his lip valiantly against a renewed fit of giggling when Zagreus’ hands migrated gently down his neck and back to his underarms. “No one but me to relish your screams.”
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Thanatos teased, teeth gritted in a grin.
Able to bear stillness not a second longer, Zagreus set his fingers dancing once again, spidering viciously beneath Thanatos’ arms. Poor death threw his head back as the villainous onslaught sent laughter bursting from his lungs to echo through the lava chamber. His shoulder muscles strained against stone, but, try as he might, he couldn’t lower his arms at all. Not the tiniest inch, not the slightest bit of reprieve. Zagreus grinned. It was spectacular.
In self-preservation, Zagreus had tipped his head back from his and Than’s intimate moment seconds before going back to full tickle monster mode, which had been smart with how determined Thanatos was to thrash even with just his head. A minute or two of torture later, Zagreus saw another inevitable point of danger. The curse was ebbing; soon Thanatos was free to his shoulders, and that gave him only the ability to laugh enough for them to shake. As soon as his pectorals were free, Thanatos was going to have means, however clumsy, to fight back. With a sigh lamenting the end of a helpless Thanatos, Zagreus took one last adoring gaze at that tickled-mad, wide-grinning, ecstasy-dizzy face, and he ducked.
A deadweight hand swung over his head, and Zagreus sent one of few thanks to his father for increased difficulty in his pact of punishment. It might have been small, but his instincts were good enough now to avoid what would have been an impressive black eye. Blacker eye. Still, stone-from-the-chest-down was not the way Zagreus preferred his partners, so he couldn’t rest yet. Thanatos was flailing his arms with all his might, but he still couldn’t bend over, so Zagreus was relatively safe lounging against Thanatos’ knee. Reaching as high as he dared, Zagreus gave a few quick and indiscriminate tickles—resulting in beautiful answering shrieks—and latched onto Thanatos’ hips. Instead of pinching, Zagreus held on for dear life and dug into the fabric beneath Thanatos’ belt, burrowing into and scratching the soft sensitive spots that had the potential to make Thanatos purr but were currently making him wail like the damned.
The longer Thanatos suffered under Zagreus’ malicious mischief, the quicker the curse faded. Zagreus’ wiggling fingers seemed to be fleeing from it as they squeezed down Thanatos’ thighs, skittered behind his knees, and eventually dashed to his soles. Thanatos was fully able to buck now, body all but back to his control. Had Zagreus not laid down on the rocky ground, he likely would have been throttled. As it was, he was still out of reach, grinning up at Thanatos and receiving an exhausted but elated smile in return. There was even almost a flash of fear in death’s eyes when Thanatos realized what Zagreus had planned for the finale of their first—and hopefully not last—curse-breaking session.
“Don’t worry, Than. This spot ALWAYS makes you dance. If it doesn’t free you, nothing will.” Zagreus was positively beaming up at Thanatos, facing no defense in the form of scrunching toes or kicking feet his usually did even threatening to tickle this spot, and certainly not deterred by the pitiful attempt at a glare the smiley and slumped over Thanatos shot at him.
Any shade that had even thought about reforming within a mile of them had probably changed their mind and stayed dead a few more minutes upon hearing the howl death let out when two fingers were traced delicately under his toes. Never mind the subsequent guffawing screams he uttered when Zagreus raked five fingers back and forth beneath them while his other hand devastated Thanatos’ soles with some evil scribbling that he could only imagine tickled like hell. Those sounds, even if it did make Zagreus wince and almost want to cover his ears, and the blazing, amazing, unabashed smile that accompanied it was better than any boon the gods could give him. Maybe it was a little devil in him talking, but it was simply divine to see his lover so undone and hysterical, so free even when immobilized, so happy and for only Zagreus to see. He wouldn’t mind staying there, basking in Thanatos’ warm and hysterical glow, for a few dozen winters.
His wish was not granted. He barely got a dozen seconds before Thanatos finally shook free from the petrification, yanking his feet away from Zagreus’ hands and subsequently upending himself, laughter having sapped his strength to the point where he couldn’t even float, collapsing on top of Zagreus’ chest and leaving them both wheezing.
Once he’d gotten back the wind that had been knocked out of him, Zagreus chuckled, wrapping his arms around Thanatos and holding him close, rubbing smooth and soothing circles into the soft warm skin of his shoulder. So gentle and loving was the attention and little kisses he showered Thanatos with that his next words were a jarring dissonance.
“You know, it usually only takes me a few seconds to break free from a gorgon hit when I really want to,” said Zagreus, and he hummed smugly when he felt Thanatos’ face grow warm where it was suddenly buried in the prince’s neck. “Can’t help but wonder if, maybe, you just didn’t want to escape that badly.” He pressed a grinning kiss to Thanatos’ burning forehead. “Eh, Thana-toes?”
Just as suddenly as he’d been pinned to the floor under Thanatos, Zagreus found himself pinned to the floor, arms raised and locked in the grip of a vengeful death, whose amber eyes were absolutely alight with promise and payback, and smoldering more softly with fondness that could not be more obvious when he rolled them. “I will give you three conditions to escape a slow and very merciless end, after which I will personally drag you back down the Styx and deliver just as merciless a wake-up call.”
Zagreus gulped, his grin growing wobbly and his stomach already tickled by a swarm of prickling nerves and butterflies. “And those would be?”
“One,” said Thanatos, summoning a ghostly indigo shackle to bind Zagreus’ left wrist. “Please don’t tell anyone about this that I work with. I’d like to keep some professional dignity. Two.” Another shackled encircled Zagreus’ right wrist. “Don’t you dare call me that ever again.”
Zagreus couldn’t help but smile proudly at the purple flush that touched Thanatos’ cheeks at that, albeit his smile swiftly turned giggly and giddy as those two shackles pulled his arms taut.
“Three.” Thanatos leaned in just to nuzzle Zagreus’ ear and scoff lowly when he tried to scrunch up his shoulders. The wickedly sharp tips of Thanatos’ iron gauntlets grazed gently along Zagreus’ highest ribs, making him jolt and bite down on a yelp, grin already hopelessly wide and nerves tingling in anticipation. Zagreus was sure he lost what color he had, most of it roaring to flush and flicker in his hair and ears, and surer that he’d be cursing Thanatos next time, when the latter bowed close to whisper the final condition.
“Don’t laugh.”
#ro writes#squealing santa#squealing santa 2k22#ss2k22#hades tickling#ticklish!thanatos#zagreus x thanatos#lee!thanatos#ler!zagreus#switch!thanatos#switch!zagreus
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Since we’re talking about versus stuff, mod. If there was a free 4 all for each DR cast (1 2 3 v3 and UDG) which character from each cast would win the fight?
//Good question actually, because it can kind of change in the context of Survivor or canon. A few of the answers are fairly obvious though.
//I'm not gonna ever do this as a Death Battle, so I guess I can answer here.
//For DR1, it’s really difficult to determine based on the circumstances. Hifumi, Sayaka, and Chihiro are immediately out because none of them have shown any meaningful defensive or offensive capabilities besides Sayaka trying to attack Leon, which backfired massively. Largely the reason why the three of them are always left out of the team fights unless the situation is desperate, i.e the fight with Celeste.
//Celeste and Hiro are out for the same reason, because without any tools, and that stupid dress augmentation in Survivor in Celeste’s case, they’re kind of boned. And as shown, in a free for all situation, it’s easily countered anyway. Then Leon, because while he is decently strong, he has no training or experience. Hina is the same case, but she gets a little bit above him because I feel like she would have picked up some martial skills and tips from Sakura, and I do feel like she could take a person out with a well-aimed kick.
//I do think that Byakuya might have learned some self-defence moves earlier in his life, but I doubt he’s ever needed to capitalise off them in a meaningful way. At least not compared to Kyoko or Taka, whose career paths probably put them in danger sometimes, and they need to know these moves to defend themselves. So after them, Makoto and Mondo stand a better chance because Mondo’s been in fights ever since he was young and definitely knows his way around them, and Survivor Makoto has had formal training from the ultimate soldier herself, which at least puts him on a level where he might be able to defend himself for a substantial amount of time, but not enough to net him a win.
//Toko/Genocide Jack I think barely misses the top spot, because while they have a lot of experience killing, and are generally really stupid busted at their best; being able to dodge lightning and stuff, she never does well in fights where she has to go against someone of equal power and skill to herself. At least not with Komaru backing her up. I.e. Narumi Osone.
//Sakura is the obvious pick for the winner, but I don’t know if there’s ever been a point in time where Sakura has been shown to be able to take down multiple opponents at a time. In fact, there is an unused execution for her which shows that happening. She gets attacked by a bunch of enemies in the same vein as Peko’d execution and becomes overwhelmed, so clearly she doesn’t do too well in group fights. Still, presumably those enemies are about as strong as Monokuma, and the rest of the DR1 cast certainly aren’t. So I doubt it would be too much of an issue for her.
//Mukuro is a contender, and she’s definitely on the same level as Sakura AND has fought 100 Monokuma’s off by herself with a makeshift weapon. The only reason I still think Sakura wins is because Mukuro had no hesitation when it came to fighting the Monokuma’s, but wasn’t confident about her chances against Sakura alone. Sure, part of that may have been Mukuro trying to prioritise Makoto’s safety, but if it came down to the two of them, Sakura is used to fighting opponents on equal footing, and Mukuro typically isn’t.
//However, it’s important to note that Junko subjugated BOTH of them through manipulation and blackmail, and brought these two titans to their knees one way or any other. And did the same inadvertently through the killing game.
//The most physically powerful member of Class 78 is Sakura, but the most universally powerful is Junko. But if this is a free for all fight to the death with little room for tricks and everyone is bare handed, I’m gonna give it to Sakura, but Mukuro is a very close contender.
//For the second game, I shouldn't have to explain who takes it, because it's so bleedingly obvious, but for a general breakdown though, Teruteru, Mahiru, Hiyoko, and Chiaki are all out, because Chiaki doesn't have a physical body, and wouldn't be able to fight with it even if she did, and the others have next to know combat experience, or physical manpower. Hiyoko did get a good hit in on Nagito once, but the only reason why they were able to take him on then is because Mikan had already weakened him, and it was a 6 on one essentially.
//Kazuichi gets a better advantage than them, as does Ibuki, but mainly thanks to the fact that they have good tools, like the machine gun arm and the flamethrower guitar, plus Ibuki could use her music to disorient people like she did in DR3. However, without the tools, they're both kind of sitting ducks, and the only thing that keeps them above the one's I've just mentioned is the fact that they have a bit more stamina.
//Above them, I would say Fuyuhiko and Ryuji/Imposter, because unlike all the others I've just mentioned, I imagine they both have some genuine fighting experience. After all, being a Yakuza is a life threatening career, and he must have learned to defend himself at some point. However, it's clear that Peko does most of the heavy lifting for him, and in the face of most of the other people in this fight, Fuyuhiko is kind of dead weight. And as for Ryuji, while he's definitely mobile and knows his way around a sword, he has so little screentime that it's hard to glean what his actual capabilities are. He might have dressed and wielded the same weapon as Munakata, but I doubt Ryuji has any skills that would net him a higher spot on the ranking.
//The next one's out I would say are Gundham, then Mikan. Gundham has proven to be able to take Mechamaru in a fight, and yeah, while he won with a sneaky tactic, he still faced Nekomaru down in the funhouse, AND his Dark Devas and animals would be allowed here. But I still think they wouldn't be enough to net him a win. As for Mikan, I know that sometimes I make her appear extremely OP, and I know that we all agree the logistics behind Case 3 are extremely dumb, but they still happened, and having that kind of speed, precision, and power is somewhat integral in a fight. But in a free for all, her lack of general experience, as well as the general weight of all her tools, would slow her down enough for her weaknesses to be exploited.
//My next to slots are kind of a close call, but I'm going to say that Akane is the next one out. Akane is insanely strong, especially if you give her Seiko's doping medicine that she used in DR3, but the fact that she barely tends to strategize really sets her back. With a decent plan, she might actually get a few slots higher, but she's too dumb for that. On the other hand, Sonia, while not as physically strong, could beat her in strategics. While we never see her fight in the main series, Sonia says that everybody in Novoselic is trained in military tactics from youth, and no doubt that would include her. In Survivor, she also knows how to use a sword, ride a tank, and can use a variety of firearms. So yeah, she is shockingly busted for this kind of fight.
//Still, with that said, Peko and Nekomaru have both dealt with this kind of stuff, and they are clearly stronger, being in the upper echelon of power for the group, and the clear runners up. Nekomaru is a bruiser, like Akane, but actually has a decent amount of intelligence that would back him up, despite being a goofball most of the time. He knows his way around a fight, and the best strategies to net a win, and Peko, who has been trained in swordplay since birth, and is almost fast as lightning, can do just as much damage as Sonia with her one weapon.
//Still, as strong as Peko and Nekomaru are, the clear winners of this fight are the Ultimate Hope's. And between Nagito and Hajime, we've already seen that Hajime is LEAGUES stronger, and it's only because he holds back so he doesn't hurt anybody around him. Take away that morality, and he could annihilate everybody. And while Nagito's Ultimate Luck presents a difficulty, Hajime has that too, so it kind of cancels out. So yeah, easy dub, Hajime takes this one.
//Thankfully, Ultra Despair Girls doesn't have a huge roster, so I can get through this one quickly.
//If we are counting Toko/Genocide Jack, she takes the fight, because as I mentioned before, she is surprisingly busted. NOT counting Toko though, it comes down to Komaru, who is clearly a similar level of speed and precision, being able to keep up with Toko, or Monaca because of her unmatched genius.
//But seeing as Komaru did beat Monaca, I think we can give this one to Komaru ultimately. The other characters simply aren't worth talking about.
//DRV3 is easily the hardest of all them though, because counting Survivor, this group is the most physically overpowered of the lot, and almost all of them are capable of kicking ass in a fight. So I'm gonna try and go through them one by one.
//Himiko is the clear loser of the fight though, because she's the only one of them who doesn't have any kind of physical or mental stamina, and if not for her puppet form, she wouldn't be capable of landing a punch, much less dealing damage. And I don't want to count her capabilities as a puppet as part of her kit, because ultimately, that's not Himiko herself, and it doesn't help her net a win.
//Angie and Kiyo are next because, in Angie's case, she is good with a blade, and managed to take on Sonia. But Sonia is very clearly the more tactical genius between them, and Angie wins most of her fights through manipulation rather than physical confrontation. Nevertheless, she isn't nearly as good at this as Kokichi. As for Kiyo, I imagine he probably has some sword skills due to his focus on the katana in V3, and his anthropological knowledge covering many kinds of cultural marial arts. The reason he falls so low is because I'm not certain he would be able to apply them.
//Next I would say Kaito and Ryoma because both of them have been shown to be very physically capable, but at the same time, they severely lack any sorts of tools besides their own fists, and in Ryoma's case, a tennis racket and ball.
//Which is nothing compared to our A-listers, which consists of Kokichi, Kirumi, Miu, Tenko, Gonta, and Maki. Kokichi is out next, because, while yes, he is ingenious and manipulative, and he could steer events to turn the tide in his favor like he did in V3, he lacks tools compared to the others here, and the V3 characters are so used to him, most of them wouldn't fall for any of his traps anyway, especially not Shuichi. It's not like he could goad people into picking each other off anyway, because this is a free for all, and there's no guarantee he'd be able to take out whoever remains once the numbers start dwindling, and his only real weapon is a pair of guns, which ironically, are not a guaranteed win. Kirumi is highly intelligent, but again, lacks tools that would help her net a win, and though she's most definitely trained in hand-to-hand combat, everybody above her either overpowers her, outranks her, or has some tools or equipment that she simply cannot answer against.
//While I don't think Miu is as intellectual as Kokichi, it's an indisputable fact that her inventions REALLY bump her up in this ranking, especially the electrobombs and electrohammer which can disable other tech like Kaede's Mozart Mk2, Shuichi and Rantaro's Symmetra Matrix, Tsumugi's Nanokumas, and just Keebo in general. The big problem is that characters like Maki and Tenko, who overpower her without tech that she can exploit, and Gonta who can just straight up tank the physical damage; plus every character I've just listed is way faster than Miu, and speed and precision is kind of the deciding factor on these inventions working. Tech and tools are a MASSIVE part to play in this fight, and unfortunately, though Miu has many, none of them net her a win. As for Maki, Gonta and Tenko, it's a close call, but I think I'm going to have to give this one to Maki. In terms of power, I think Tenko and Gonta are stronger, but though Neo Aikido allows for the use of weapons, and Maki isn't as adept at hand-to-hand combat as Tenko is, Maki has more tools, equipment, and ways to net a kill that Tenko can't actively counter against. If this was a one-on-one confrontation, Tenko might stand a chance, but in a free-for-all where everything is automatically haywire, Maki has a much bigger advantage using every distraction she can. And also, both of them have way more experience than Gonta does in a fight, which makes him easily exploitable.
//That leaves 5 more characters; Shuichi, Kaede, Rantaro, Keebo, and Tsumugi.
//Of this group, I think the first one out is Keebo. His robotic body gives him a significant physical edge, and he possesses superhuman strength, speed, and durability, allowing him to perform feats none of the other characters can. His body includes sensors, communication devices, high-powered energy blasters, a rocket launcher, thrusters for flight, and many others, which made him capable of keeping up with even Nagito as an Ultimate Hope. However, the reason he falls flat is because SO many of the other characters have counters to his kit, and being a robot, one well-timed EMP can take him out with relative ease. And Miu and Kaede are packing heat in that regard. Plus, Keebo's body has also been shown to be really fragile and easily breakable by superpowers like Nagito, which many of the characters here can match, so if they can get the jump on him, he's going down quickly.
//And as good as Keebo's tech is, the sad reality is that the Symmetra Matrix is just WAY too powerful a weapon for him to counter.
//The Matrix is essentially a poor man’s Green Lantern Ring. It transforms light into tangible constructs, enabling its bearer to create anything they can imagine, from weapons and tools to complex machinery and even entire environments, and it can be used for incredible mobility, as well as a means of blocking any attack thrown at you. It DOES have a battery life, but it's one that is easily recharged, and rarely runs out anyway. Its adaptability makes it a universal tool, capable of addressing any challenge, limited only by the user's imagination and intellect; something that Shuichi and Rantaro both have in spades. I can't possibly say which of them is better at using the Matrix though, so they get to share a pedastal here.
//But unfortunately, while the Matrix is amazing, Kaede and Tsumugi's respective weapons; the Mozart Mk2 and the Nanokumas, are better. The Nanokuma's do very much the same thing as the Matrix, and are capable of shapeshifting Tsumugi's body parts into weapons, and making her perpetually bulletproof. And also, while the Symmetra definitely helped Shuichi fight back against Tsumugi, it was NOT powerful enough to actually defeat the Nanokuma's.
//Also, Tsumugi is generally able to use the Nanokuma's to repair herself if she loses limbs. The first thing she does with it, in fact, is cut herself in half, and stitch herself back together good as new. So any kind of damage that the other characters CAN do is almost instantaneously repaired.
//So ultimately, this long, difficult clash of tech and power, ironically, comes down between Kaede and Tsumugi as the last women standing. As for which one of them nets a win?
//I'm gonna give this match to Kaede, and for one simple reason...Hacking Mode.
//As covered in Kaede's Death Battle, the Hacking Mode of the Mozart Mk2 functions exactly the same as Komaru's Hacking Gun from Ultra Despair Girls. Though she never really uses it in the main story of Survivor, Kaede has access to all the bullets, on top of the other modes of her weapon being different kinds of javelin/spear.
//This fact single handedly means Kaede outmatches or overpowers Tsumugi's Nanokuma's, Shuichi and Rantaro's Symmetra Matrix, and ALL of Miu and Keebo's tech! After all, there is no way the Nanokuma's are resistant to the Hacking Gun, because Miu's Electrobombs disable them easily. And just by shooting Tsumugi once, the hacking gun could disable the entire Nanokuma system before they have a chance to duplicate and protect Tsumugi from lethal damage
//Also, the Hacking Mode aside, the Mozart Mark 2...is just a PREPOSTEROUSLY good weapon!
//It's definitely possible for Shuichi or Miu to hack into the Mozart and disable it, but the fact that Kaede can fly on the weapon at twice the speed of a bullet means there is no way they are getting that opportunity.
//And with the kill mode alone, the spear is capable of downing giant robots like Himiko's Titan puppet, and the Exisal robots, with COMPLETE ease. The exisals, which might I remind you, are at least as strong as Monokuma is in the Killing Game, i.e. the version that went toe to toe with Sakura.
//This means that if Kaede outspeeds them (which she definitely does) she could kill Maki, Tenko, Gonta, and everybody else in this battle in a SINGLE STRIKE!
//Of course, the big weakness with the Mozart Mk2 is that if Kaede somehow misplaces the glove that she controls it with, it doesn't become nearly as versatile, and she isn't capable of controlling it while airborne, which severely limits her chances. HOWEVER, due to how incredibly fast, agile, and adept Kaede is at taking down several targets, none of the others here are probably going to get the opportunity to swipe it. Especially since there are no friends in this game.
//It might be a little biased, I will admit, but I personally had no idea how clutch this weapon was going to be, and ultimately, Kaede wins this free for all because of it.
//However, if we are talking non-survivor feats, the winner is Maki, for the reasons that I already kind of mentioned earlier.
-Mod
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Back on that soulmates-share-quirks au but lets focus on the kuropress. Like how when Shirakumo died, Mr. Compress lost the ability to use Cloud and he never tried to use his soulmates quirk after a few months of desperate trying since he concluded his soulmate was officially gone.
The Doctor took an interest in Mr. Compress when they first met-- even though they wanted Eraserhead, they did observe him and got to see his friends and their quirks/soulmate quirks and so recognizes the second quirk Shirakumo had. He starts grilling Mr. Compress on his second quirk, like has he even tried to use it since his soulmates death or if the connection feels off somehow. Shigaraki puts a stop to the questions and assures Mr. Compress that it’s just how the Doctor is, absolutely fascinated with soulmate related quirks and how they relate to nomus and all that nonsense, so not to pay it any mind. If anyone else had a dead soulmate, he would be interrogating them as well.
It ends up eating away at Mr. Compress because no he hasn’t even tried to use it in over ten years and now feeling for the quirk, it does feel off. Different somehow, wrong, unnatural. He didn’t think it about again until they’re fighting heroes on a rooftop and he hears Twice shout, turning in time to see Toga dodge too far to the left and suddenly she’s falling over the side.
He doesn’t know if the heroes would try to catch her or let gravity do it’s job and write her off as another causality, he doesn’t know if any of Twice’s clones will be able to grab her in time to make a cushion, but he does know that none of them will be able to get to her in time.
Something in him surges and Toga’s scream is cut off as she lands hard on a soft cloud, swirling the same dark purple color as Kurogiri. She floats back up in the sudden halt of the fight and Mr. Compress has to stomp down the sudden breakdown he feels coming one when he sees his mist covered hand because what the fuck?
He and Kurogiri are going to have to have a very long talk when they break him out of prison.
#bnha#my hero academy#kuropress#mr compress#kurogiri#atsuhiro sako#shirakumo oboro#blackmagic#mr compress now facing the fact that his soulmate is both dead and a nomu that doesnt even remember having a soulmate to start with#kurogiri is confused but also his chest feels so much lighter so he's just rolling with it#aizawa and yamada now having to face the fact that mr compress is the same quirk as shirakumo's and they don't like any of this#yes kurogiri can use compress and has several times but just assumed it was an added quirk not a soulmate related one
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I have this whole fic idea for what Emily and Corvo are doing during Death of the Outsider and wrote this on my phone just now. sorry it's rough shsjdkdkdj
Corvo is having nightmares, which then turn out to be actually memories of himself in another timeline where he was the one facing Delilah. That Corvo did a high chaos run, but this Corvo is horrified by the dreams and the implications of who he was and what he did.
Emily notices her father is growing agitated and isn't sleeping well, and she figures the Outsider might have something to do with it.
-:-:-
"It's not her."
Emily whips around, time slowing as she prepares to dodge an assassin, or clockwork soldier, or none of those things at all because the voice registers in her mind half a moment later, and she knows he is no threat. She knows it in her bones, knows it like the certainty of her next breath: he is not harmless, but he will not harm her himself.
So when she sees the Outsider leaning against the pillar behind her, she does not draw her gun.
The Outsider does not move his eyes from her face, though she knows this only in her gut and not from looking at him. They stare at each other in silence, in the wan Dunwall afternoon, and the forlorn cries of gulls fade away in the distance as he draws her mind into the Void, even while awake.
The sky is suddenly dark, and sunlight is cast in pale ripples across the whole world, a that is when he tilts his head slightly toward the grave.
"It's not her, I promise that. You saw to it--the true end of Empress Jessamine Kaldwin. I thought that might give a sense of finality to it, and yet, here she haunts."
Emily's jaw tightens. "It was final," she says, wary and angry all together. "For *me.* But he's...struggling. The world changed so much while he was in stone, and... He didn't get to say goodbye, like I did."
"That's because he wouldn't have," the Outsider said with a shrug.
The Empress clenches her marked fist at her side. "How do you know? Do you dangle it in front of him in his dreams? That hardly--"
"I don't have to," interrupts the Outsider calmly. "Dear Corvo's nightmares are all of his own making."
A shiver runs down her spine at his cold words, and a memory resurfaces of the clammy nightmares she had long ago in the Hound Pitts Pub when she'd put a whalebone rune under her pillow. Chilly dreams of the Outsider surveying the political players of the day, examining them as they examined her from every angle and finding them wanting just as they found her. They had jeered at her: too young, too fickle, too impetuous. Of course, the Outsider, old as he is, could say the same for all of them.
The judgement in his black eyes was never cruel, but it was never kind, either.
"So you're not toying with him?" Emily asks, shaking the vision of the looming Outsider in her memory and glaring instead at the one in front of her. It was good to remember he was shorter than her, now; a boy frozen in time who was far less menacing now than when she was ten.
"Your father always asks me that. From a certain angle, I can't blame him," the Outsider says, circling her slowly. The air moves strangely around him, thick like water. "But the strings that pull him and his blade aren't mine, and deep down, he knows it. And you?" A mirthless sound leaves him that might be a laugh, if he were amused by much. "I dont control you like chess pieces on a board. Never had the chance to learn. And if you're thinking of cats and mice..."
The Outsider is suddenly very close, floating at eye level with her so she can see the grimy streaks left on his face as if his black eyes had shed tarry tears.
"Sorry to disappoint. I'm not interested in eating you."
"If you're not playing with him, then what's happening?" she asks, batting him away like the smoke of a noxious cigar. "Something has upset him. It's making him waste away, I can feel it, but he refuses to talk to me."
"Oh, and he just loves talking to me, does he?"
This does genuinely seem to amuse him, and Emily is secretly relieved. Entertaining the god seems to be the surest way to coax good will from him, and for her father's sake, she needs some.
"Fortunately for both you and dear Corvo, I did not stop watching you, not even now that your throne is secure and your name washed clean of dishonor." The Outsider is *definitely* amused. "Do you remember the crack in the slab of reality you slipped through, splinters of past and present needling into your forward path at Stilton's manor?"
Emily rolls her eyes as the Outsider waxes poetic. "I'll never forget your little inventions," she replies. "Giant dragonfly wings on a... whatever organ that 'timepiece' was."
The Outsider crouches behind her mother's headstone now, hands dangling over his knees, and looks up at Emily with a cracked squint as if she is too bright to look at.
"Time is wounded still, wrapped around you both like waves breaking against the two statues you were in both Dunwalls," he says, studying her. "Just keep your heads above water for now, and let the experienced sailors navigate this storm."
Emily considers this non-explanation and isn't sure what to do with it. At its heart, she knows he's telling her--for some gods damned reason--not to worry about it.
It's not good enough.
Emily hopes her mother would be proud of her as she lunges over the gravestone and reaches for the Outsider. She knows Corvo would be, as her hands close around the boy's scrawny wrist and yanks him upright.
"I want to know what's happening to him," she says, enunciating each word with deadly patience. Up close, he really does just look like a half-drowner beggar boy, and she isn't scared of him. She isn't.
"There's darkness inside everyone, whether I tether them to a piece of the void or not," the Outsider says, dangling from her grip without any indication of discomfort. Perhaps he recognizes it as a fair trade for the time he pulled her into the Void and straight off a cliff.
"The urge to jump off the bridge when you should pull back from the edge--or to push someone else... It's in each and every one of you. Even your father."
The Outsider's eyes gleam in the dying light preserved here in the Void, each wet pinprick of light part of some larger, unknowable constellation.
"Tell me," he says, tilting his head, "did you show such compassion on your road back to your throne because Corvo raised you to be such a good little girl? Did you aspire to have as gentle touch as he did long ago, even when he was a weapon in the hands of the dirtiest schemers in the Empire?"
Emily grits her teeth and prepares to reiterate her demand to the Outsider, but he continues quickly so that she does not have time to waste her breath.
"It's okay, I know you're not a philosopher," he says, sneering harmlessly. "I'll tell you the answer: every choice was your own. Because what I've seen is that put in your shoes, dear Corvo would disappoint--me, you, and himself most of all."
Emily knows despite the insult in his tone, the Outsider has thought her to be a clever one. And she strives to live up to that moniker, as much as she would be embarrassed to admit it. So presented with the same puzzle now from several opaque and poetic angles, she does her best to piece things together.
The Outsider smiles, almost dotingly.
"You have the same frown on your face as when you're planning your route across a ravine full of Howlers," he says.
"You are about as annoying as a pack of Howlers, if I'm being honest," she replies, toothless with distraction. "Are you saying there was...another past, where Corvo faced Delilah? Did he come back in time and change things and I don't know about it?"
"Not quite," the Outsider says, "but very, *very* close, Your Majesty. An alternate timeline spins away, just out of reach from this one like the hands in a clock--but for better or worse, they are about to cross."
Emily feels like the blood has drained from her head too fast, and, dizzied, she releases the Outsider. He remains floating at the same level as before, to humor her.
"And in the alternate timeline, he--"
"Ask yourself, Emily Kaldwin, if you really know what you're asking," the Outsider says, and the amusement is gone. The warmth in his chilling voice has vanished. He may think she is Clever, but he has the knowledge of the field and she is woefully blind, and he is growing bored of steering the two of them through this conversation. "I have never had an interest in preserving your father or even you. That instinct is shared between the two of you alone. Let it serve you, while Billie Lurk learns whether she cut the instinct out of herself or not."
And like that, the shrieks of seagulls pierce the air. The Outsider is gone, and Emily Kaldwin is left with more questions than she began with.
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Rat Manor: New Friend
The rat’s first food run is cut short. So Sam decides to try it her way. She ends up in a messy situation.
[masterlist]
(contains some grossness)
Sam whooped as she jumped past the last two ledges and landed at the bottom. It was less graceful then normal since her fake leg wobbled a bit.
"Sam!" squeaked Willow above her "Be careful."
"Come on, I'm starving! We didn't get anything yesterday!" she laughed She should be full on apples right now but thanks to a certain someone she got a cup thrown at her and nearly fell to her death. Then attacked by a broom. And then spent a whole night hungry because Willow thought it'd be too risky to go right back to the kitchen.
There was a whoosh as that certain someone landed beside her.
Sam glared at the glittering fairy. They had insisted on coming along, to "ensure they got proper food". As if she'd just grab whatever scraps were in the bin. She wanted to tell them to buzz off and wait their turn.
Unfortunately Willow had agreed that it would be best for as many of them as possible to go on the 'food runs' as he called it. They needed to build up a supply of food. Which was a very sensible reason and Sam couldn't find a way to argue it. Still she wished Button had at least come along to balance it out. But the smallest rat had decided to stay back and gather fabrics to make beds for everyone. If Sam wasn't so horrendous with needles she'd have just stayed behind to help Button.
Glimmer glared right back at Sam.
"Okay you two," Willow hopped down to join them. "Please get all your bickering out now before we're in open space."
"I don't have anything to say to her." Glimmer crossed their arms.
"Me neither" Sam continued to glare at the fairy.
Willow groaned and walked ahead leaving the other to walk side by side while ignoring each other.
After a quiet but tense walk, the trio reached the huge oven that marked their entrance to the kitchen.
Willow peered out into the room.
Sam leaned over him to do the same, accidentally hitting him with her bag.
The kitchen looked the same as last time. Though now with a distinct lack of convenient fresh food sitting around. And the giant from yesterday was already here, fussing with something on a counter across the room.
"Drat." said Willow "We'll have to turn back and try again later."
"What, why?" said Sam. She did not want to have to climb back up hungry again!
"Because the orc is back?" said Glimmer "Can you not see her? She's taller than a deer."
Sam growled back at him.
"Stop it." Willow cut in between them "We'll just wait until she leaves."
"That'll take awhile. It looks like she's the cook." said Glimmer.
"Oh come on, we should be able to do something now." She looked back out into the room. The giant had disappeared. But before Sam could gloat about it, the giant walked back in carrying a tray of food.
She set it down at the counter and began doing some sort of chopping or peeling? It was an awkward angle.
Sam craned her neck to see where the giant had come from. Tucked away in the far corner on the same wall as the oven was a door Sam had missed the other day. It was wide open now. "Did you see that?" she said "They must keep most of their food there!"
"Sam we can't go out when there's a giant." said Willow.
She was about to argue when an idea hit her. "But look, it's right along this wall. The tunnel also goes that way. Maybe we can make another hole there?"
"I don't know" said Willow "She's clearly going in and out. Might still be risky-"
Sam walked off back into the wall. No reason why she couldn't just check! She turned left instead of right and raced through the dark tunnel. Navigating through plenty of stormy nights meant it was a breeze for her to dodged the bumps and pipes throughout.
After she got what she thought was the distance between the entry and the door she stopped and looked around. Well, more so felt the wall. There weren't any cracks she could feel. Certainly none that let any light in. Must have just not gone far enough.
Sam jogged further in and tried again. Still nothing. Maybe. The walls were bumpy and craggily.
Who knows how to tell what was just a crack and what was one that went all the way through the wall. Willow probably. This was how he lived, in the walls of giants. Leaving him behind hadn't been the best move...
Too late though. So Sam would just have to continue without.
Sam pressed forward through the dusty tunnels. It was becoming rather eerie. She was in silence for one thing. No other rat or giant were nearby. Just the faint creaks and groans of something deeper inside the dwelling. She hadn't even seen signs of a living bug. They should be swarming the near ancient thing but they weren't.
The darkness was also starting to play tricks on her. Sometimes she'd go to duck under a pipe and put her paw on it only for it to touch nothing. Or she'd swear she saw another tunnel leading off the one she was in but then be unable to find it if she went back.
Thankfully there was a pin prick of light ahead. Sam rushed forwards towards it. "Ha!" she thought "Knew there would be a way in. Just not used to judging distance inside is all." As she got closer she could feel a faint breeze coming from the light. Odd since any hole would lead inside-
Sam skidded to a stop, falling onto her butt, as she nearly fell down an entire foot drop.
The light was not in fact coming from a room in the dwelling but from the very sun.
Her legs were dangling outside of the walls as the hole was in the stony exterior.
It looked out to a work yard. The grass had long since been stomped away leaving dirt and pebbles. A shovel, couple pitchforks, and a random assortment of other tools were scattered about. The neighs of horses could be heard from somewhere nearby. A small staircase led to the wall almost right next to the hole Sam was in.
"Welp." said Sam to herself "This certainly isn't where they keep the food."
"It's not?"
Sam nearly fell to the ground again. She wiped around expecting to see that dime witted fairy smirking behind her. No one was there.
"Over here!"
Sam looked back out at the yard. She noticed a hulking metal monstrosity tucked in the corner where two of the dwelling walls met.
Perched on the edge was a fairy waving enthusiastically. She was very clearly not Glimmer as her hair was too long and her wings were shaped entirely differently. In fact she was probably a pixie rather than a fairy.
Somewhat hesitant Sam waved back.
Before either of them could do anything else a door banged open.
Sam's head rattled as the door creaked in protest of the abuse.
A giant stomped down the stairs unnoticing. He looked entirely different from any of the four giants Sam had seen so far. But at least wasn't as weird as the ghostly scaled one from yesterday. The giant was carrying a large bulky bag. He walked to the metal bin and chucked the bag inside.
Despite the clattering and clanging, the pixie kept her balance on the edge. She was even still smiling.
Without so much as a glance at the pixie, the giant walked back inside the dwelling. Closing the door much more gently this time.
"OOOOO!" squealed the pixie "Maybe this one has food! Or shiny things! Come on let's look I'll share!" she dove down into the bin.
Sam wasn't too sure anything edible was in that bin given what she could smell from here. She looked back into the dark tunnel. Groaning, she climbed down the stone walls. No way she was going back empty handed.
The stench only got worse as Sam approached the metal bin. And so did the unending buzz of the flies swarming it. Maybe it would be better to go back empty handed...
The pixie popped back out. "Is this food?" she held up an apple core. What little insides were left were very brown.
"Not anymore." said Sam as she tried to not look completely disgusted.
"Aww, darn." the pixie dropped the core back into the depths of the bin. She jumped up and out of the bin and fluttered down to where Sam stood giving the rat a clearer look at her. She was short. Not as small as Button but more so than Willow. She was grinning ear to ear showing the pointed teeth she had left. Her hair was long and matted. A ridiculous amount of scarves were wound around her neck and streaming down her body, her ribs poking out between them. A thin cloth that should have been replaced ages ago was wound around her waist. Her bare feet were caked in dirt.
Sam snapped her eyes back to the pixie's "Yeah I don't think you'll ever find food there."
"I guess so, it's been a week and I haven't seen anything" said the pixie. Her expression not changing "Me dad used to find food all the time in bins like these. Then one of 'em fell on him. Guess that's a sign. My name's Moss what's yours?"
"Uh, Sam?" she spluttered. Had she heard Moss right? The pixie had really sped past her father's death.
"Nice." Moss grinned more "I like it. Got any food?"
"Thanks, but no I don't have any."
"Aww no I guess we're both starving for the winter." Moss plopped down onto the ground. Her grin lessened but still present.
"What, no. I know where's there some." said Sam.
"Really?" Moss was back on her feet, standing on tippy toes to get way into Sam's personal space "But I thought yous was looking for food out here?"
Sam stepped back "Well kinda? I know where the food is I just couldn't figure out how to get to it."
Moss seemed to get the message and stood down "How'd you do that?"
"I thought I could get in through the walls, but instead I went out."
"You were inside the walls?" Moss gasped "In there, you can do that? How?" she pointed to the dwelling.
"The walls are hollow, mostly, so you can walk through them." Sam pointed to where she came out of "Look there's a hole there."
Moss squinted at the wall for a moment before her eyes widened. She squealed, run jumping into flight and dove right into the hole.
Sam blinked as she looked at the spot the other fae had just been in.
"Come on Sam! Let's get foood!" called Moss.
Still a bit dazed Sam complied. She couldn't help but stare at the grinning pixie as she did so. It probably wasn't a good idea to keep helping the first sap she bumped into...
But as she climbed up back into the crack between stones she caught sight of Moss's ribs and decided that okay, this one last time was fine.
Besides, it would be helpful to have the glow of a fairy's wings. While Moss's brown ones didn't give off as much as Glimmer's golden ones, it was a good price for not having to deal with the annoying fly.
Sam walked in front leading back into the tunnels. Every so often she'd have to turn and get Moss's attention whenever the pixie caught sight of a pipe. "Okay." said Sam "Keep an eye out for cracks and holes and that stuff. We need to find a way into where the giants keep their food."
Moss intensely eyed a bump in the wall next to her.
"No, like one you could walk through."
With her eyes locked onto Sam's, Moss slid behind the bump.
Sam walked around to face Moss again "As in through it into the actual dwelling."
"There's more?!" Moss looked genuinely awestruck.
"Oh there's way too much more. Let's go."
The two continued on, inspecting the wall as they went. Moss seemed to have gotten the memo and was keeping up with Sam while doing so. Hopefully.
"Oh look! I see something!" Moss slipped around Sam and dashed ahead.
Sam raced to keep up, just barely seeing the shockingly fast pixie zip around a corner. Finally she reached where Moss had went to...
Right by the oven.
"Look how big this is!" Moss walked right out into the open.
Sam followed, looking around to see that the kitchen giant had left.
"You don't look happy, is this not where the food is?" Moss was still smiling.
"Sort of?" Sam was still looking around "This is more where they prep the food. I was trying to find a way to where they store it-oh!" The door she had seen earlier was still wide open. Shelves and boxes could be seen lurking inside. "Looks like we can get in through something bigger than expected." Sam marched over to the door.
Moss followed after.
Both of them were soon in the room. It was much smaller than the kitchen but it was packed full of food. Jars, boxes and cans lined the shelves all filled to the brim with food.
Sam spotted some apples and imminently climbed up the shelf they were on. She rolled a juicy one away from the others and chowed down on it as she watched Moss zip around the room.
"OOOO look these things are full of green stuff! I didn't know you put stuffs in them." Moss gasped "What are those!" she dove down headfirst into a jar that had been left open. Popping back up with a cherry hanging from her jaws. She made short work of it and dipped back down for another.
Sam finished what she could of the apple. She was stuffed. "I'll just relax for a sec" she thought "then I should find something to bring up to the other two. Ah, and I should ask Moss if she wants to join-" Sam looked up at the pixie.
And saw the giant standing in the doorway.
The giant was the same as earlier. She walked in, past the shelves where the fae were, and began moving around jars and cans in search of something. After a very long few seconds she found it and left the little room none the wiser.
Sam groaned and brought her knife out to get some apple chunks to pack into her bag. She motioned for Moss to get over here once it was full.
"What's up?" Moss landed on the wood, dripping juice and half covered in cherry skin and chunks. She looked just as unfazed about a close encounter with a giant as before.
"We gotta go, that giant is apparently going to be walking in and out all day." Sam said as she began climbing back down the shelf.
"Why?" Moss fluttered next to Sam as the rat climbed "She didn't see us. Big folk never do."
"Oh she's seen me before." Sam hopped down to the floor "Tried to smack me with a broom. She missed but I'd rather not give her a chance to hit."
"Really? You must be bad at glamour."
"I don't have much magic so yeah." Sam walked ahead.
"What's magic have to do with it? You just gotta stand really still." said Moss genuinely.
"I... let's just move." Sam already gets headaches from hearing fairies chatter about how magic works, she really didn't want to hear about pixie magic right now.
The giant was still in the kitchen. But she was engrossed in whatever she was doing so the two fae were able to skitter right back into the walls unnoticed.
Until Sam nearly trampled Glimmer.
"Gah, what the-" Sam started.
Glimmer turned. The fairy was covered in dust. Some was entangled in their hair, making it look fuzzy.
"What happened to you?" said Sam.
"Cleaning." said Glimmer wearily. They looked Sam up and down and then at Moss "You?"
"Got lost... found her." she motioned to Moss.
"Hi!" said Moss.
"Then..." Sam looked down at herself to find she was covered in apple juice which had then picked up all the dust Glimmer had missed. "I got some apples." she opened her bag and offered some to Glimmer.
Glimmer raised a brow and took out one of the chunks. Which was already browning at the edges. All the same they took a bite.
"You guys want a bath?"
"Yes!" Sam said with more enthusiasm than she wanted "Where though?"
Taking another bite, Glimmer motioned for them to follow as they walked back out to the kitchen.
#g/t#g/t ocs#giant/tiny#g/t writing#g/t story#rat manor#my stuff#dont worry#no one ate from the cherry jar#after moss lol#the chef assumed one#of the kids got into it#and put#it in the compost or something#oc willow#oc sam#oc glimmer#oc moss
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I had a thought!! (Cause I'm obsessed and unhinged when it comes to making different throuples involving Corlys x Rhaenys 😂🤣💀) What if Aemma Arryn had a sister, who took more after their fathers Arryn looks whereas Aemma had their mothers Targaryen. Artyssa Arryn maybe, named loosely after the Arryn King and legend, Artys. What if she spent her teen and young adult years dodging betrothals left and right and hiding away with her favorite cousin on Driftmark once she married its lord. This game of cat and mouse goes on for years, with her coming and going and teasing Rhaenys into taking her like when they were younger, then being gone come morning, not wanting to cause strife with her suprisingly all too lenient husband. Until the last time she came, escaping the Red Keep after their grandfather Jaehaerys tries to force her to choose a husband or else he'll marry her off to whomever benefits him. When she gets to Rhaenys that time, she's already aware of what upsets Artyssa. And Corlys is there too, though he just watches them for a while, lets Rhaenys whisper seeds into her little birds ear, begging her to really stay this time, they could both protect her and let her keep her freedom. Eventually, when she finally broken her resolve and gotten her to come around to the idea, Corlys joins them in bed. His sickeningly sweet request for permission to make her feel good is the last push they needed, Artyssa barely moans out a throaty yes before they're both on her, spending all night ravaging her. Within the month they have had a Valyrian wedding, welcoming her as their third. And for once, she stays. If Jaehaerys is hella mad when he finds out they married her withouthis permission, well, it's already done and consummated. She's tainted for all the other lords that wanted her now, and she loves it. Over the years the people of Driftmark get used to have a Lord, Lady and now Mistress as well. And after she has had a few of Corlys' children, it almost becomes acceptable. Thought here are still some like the Hightowers and Lannisters that frown on them, and try to explain their worries over a union like theirs being an abomination like Maegor and all his wives, but Viserys hears none of it. Letting them be. Though later on, she has never forgiven her cousin Viserys for marrying Aemma young and constantly pushing her for an heir, eventually leading to her death being cut open at his command because of his obsession with a son. They weren't particularly close to begin with, but she does loathe how even after all that, he took another even younger wife and did pump more children out of her, only to ignore all of them including those 3 precious boys he killed her sister trying to get. She's there for Rhaenyra when Aemma dies, coming to the Red Keep to stay with her or bringing her back to Driftmark for some time after, there's no need for her to stay with Viserys and his unhealthy parenting especially now that he's taken her former friend as a wife, though she does hold some of that blame on Otto as well for pimping the poor girl out. The dance doesn't happen, Artyssa convinces Corlys to marry her to one of their sons instead, as we all know Laenor and Rhaenyra wouldn't be a good match. She often extends olive branches with Alicent, not wanting her to have the same fate as Aemma. Maybe she gets Rhaenyra and Alicent to reconcile, and with no animosity between them, Alicent does not shield Rhaenyra from her siblings.
Oh i love this !!! Poor Aemma truly ! The dance will no longer be as the realm steadies itself.
Corlys is the best, he'd accept anything , sorry not sorry ;)
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Castlevania Chronicles (Original Mode) Part 3: The meaning of pain
This first stage starts with a crumbling bridge complete with Medusa Heads coming at you. You need precise reflex to dodge them all because if you get hit even once even if you don’t fall down the knockback will send you too far back to make it back up in time. I’ve died here what feels like 20 times before figuring out that the Stop Watch you can get at the beginning can be a lifesaver
Then we get to the Tower of Dolls segment complete with the eponymous song. It’s a short vertical section with about a billion miniscule enemies and obstacles trying to get you. From toy clowns marching left and right and sometimes dropping down, little bats flying around, possessed dolls waking up and harassing you and dodging your whip attacks if you don’t perform them at just the right distance. I prefer it over the clock tower overall though since it’s much shorter and nowhere near as cheap
Ah and there’s a hidden meat in a wall, but as soon as you destroy it the meat will fall to a lower level and if you don’t jump down in a precise manner you will fall to an even lower level and won’t make it back up in time before the meat disappears. Even if you do this correctly a bunch of enemies will respawn offscreen right around where the meat landed. Fuck you as well!
Then we have a mirror hall which is actually not that hard.
The boss sure is
2 things about this doppelganger:
1) He’s aggressive as fuck
2) He’ll use whatever subweapon you currently have equipped so it’s better to have none at all
This can be an insane fight. The only thing I can recommend is to look out for his pattern since he’ll always go back and forth through the room in the same manner, jumping on those two platforms. Did I mention he’s got invincibility frames after you hit him? Or that he poses to you after he kills you?
Stage 7 is a pretty faithful recreation of Stage 5 from the original. You remember that one right? The hardest stage of Castlevania 1? It’s harder now!
There are more enemies, more awkwardly placed and more aggressive (that fucking army of red skeletons over a stair in the mid portion...)
Near the end you’ll face against The Creature, who has been demoted from boss to...not even a mini boss just the tankiest normal enemy ever. Don’t bother fighting him, he’ll drive you to a corner and kill you, climb those stairs to the right and jump over him.
Then we have the Hallway of Doom from the original. I was dreading this part....
Turns out it’s actually way easier!
It was left virtually untouched (save for some impressive graphical illusions with that background painting: fun fact it’s different depending on which season is set in your system!), but since you have better controls it’s easier to maneuver yourself here
Axe Armors are also generally easier to deal with here because:
1) You can now duck to dodge their axes while in the original their hitboxes were too big
2) If you manage to hit them where they’re not pointing their shield you can actually instakill them!
Death himself is both harder and easier than in the original
He’s harder because the Holy Water trick no longer works on him and he has more attacks, especially that one where he forcefully sucks you to the center of the room and spams tiny skulls that home in on you
But he’s also easier because he’s way less aggressive with his scythes and he has an allergy to the cross, which hits him multiple times per frame. Granted he enters a state of invulnerability after a couple of hits so he’ll have the chance of fighting back but at least this makes the fight overall more manageable than in the original!
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How To Tame A Sorcerer (63)
Series Master list
Mahito swears. He has heard from Geto about the so-called trump card that all ten shadow users have, but hearing and seeing it is another matter. The shikigami is out of control. It does not differentiate between him, the sorcerers, or the demons. Instead, it rampages and attacks those that stand in its way.
Blood runs down his forehead. If he were a weaker curse or, hell forbid, a human, then he would be dead.
The sky above is dark, filled with smoke from the fires. If the few remaining humans do not die from one of the many curses or demons running amok, then surely the smoke will do them in. Not that any of that matters with this giant shikigami in the way.
"Fuck, this thing is huge," he mutters, barely dodging another attack. Mahoraga stands as tall as the transfigured demon Mahito was using as a transportation device. There is a wheel above his head, taunting Mahito with every click. Looks like none of them will be able to defeat this thing. Who summons a shikigami they cannot defeat and control?
Idiot sorcerers.
Desperation makes humans do such stupid things. Like summoning this thing. Was that boy's plan to take them all out?
Death is not something Mahito wants to experience just yet. Not until he puts that woman in the ground and sees the look of anguish on Yuji's face once more. From the corner of his eye, he notices the dark-haired sorcerer trying to move the girl. If Mahito was in a better position, he might congratulate her on surviving the poison.
Plus, he still wants to get his hands on her soul to see what happens when someone has been brought back to life.
"By the way," he drawls, commanding the teen's attention, "Gojo Satoru is gone." He smiles, radiating joy from being able to just say those words. How many people get to say that? The strongest sorcerer of the modern world is gone.
He's so damn giddy, he wants to shout out it from a rooftop.
A flash of disbelief followed by despair mars the boy's face and it is absolutely exquisite. The sorrow. The grief. Mahito's eyes roll back in ecstasy. He can taste the negative emotions in the air. Mahoraga lets out a roar that shakes the ground.
Ugh. Fine. He will figure out how to deal with this shikigami first and then take his time tormenting the sorcerers afterwards. It will be all worth it in the end to watch that sorcerer's mind break as he taunts him about how no one is going to save him. Not with Gojo Satoru out of the picture. And that woman will be delt with soon enough. Her powers may be dangerous, but her body is still weak, like that of a normal human.
Getting rid of her will be easy. There is no one left to protect her. She is surrounded by weaklings.
Mahoraga advances on him. "I'm not the one that summoned you," he quips, as he leaps in the air. If he could just get that wheel, then maybe he will have a chance. Mahoraga backhands him and sends him flying. The debris and glass cut into his skin and his eyes. Mahito lies there, on the ground. He thinks he must have been knocked through at least three buildings. At least it feels that way.
The pain is so great; he feels high. An enlightenment. He sits up and plucks the shards out of his eyes. A manic smile splits across his patched face. Surely, Sukuna can't be too mad if the boy takes himself out. It is not as though Mahito attacked the sorcerer. No, he focused his attention on the female. No one told the suicidal sorcerer to summon a shikigami he cannot control.
He sighs as he dusts the debris off his clothes. Who is he kidding? Sukuna is not one that can be reasoned with. This he knows from experience. If that is the case, then he may as well kill both sorcerers now. At least if he must go against Sukuna, it will be because of something he actually did this time.
The demons he brought along with him are no more. A waste. It took a lot for him to work his transfiguration on them. Way more effort than with humans. Despite what he said earlier, demon souls are much harder to deal with. He's only gotten his hands on half-demons and some with a pinch of demon blood in their veins.
Encountering a full demon is not something Mahito wants to encounter anytime soon.
"Vermin," a voice says to his left. A wave of pure, demonic energy washes over the area. Even Mahoraga gives pause. The two sorcerers are knocked out. It looks as though the dark-haired one took the attack for the girl. "Where is the Six-eyes?" The demon grips his sword. From here, Mahito can feel the pure malice radiating off that sword like a tsunami. This newcomer is dangerous.
"Surely, you aren't talking to me." Mahito points to himself. Whoever this newcomer is, let the rampaging Mahoraga deal with him. "When the vermin is you." A green whip shoots out and blood gushes from his hand. Mahito screams, dropping to his knees. His hand is not regenerating. "What the hell did you do?"
No. No. No. This is not happening right now. Not when the fun is just starting. Not when he has so much left to do.
"That's my prey, demon lord," Sukuna says mockingly, landing next to the two knocked out sorcerers. Sukuna stares Mahito down and then turns his attention to Mahoraga.
Shit.
The king of curses and a demon lord? Fear grabs hold of Mahito and shakes him down for everything he has. This is the power of a full-fledged demon? His hand is still nonexistent. Blood continues to pour, and his regeneration is not working. The skin burns. He tries to change the shape of his body, but nothing works. The area burns like none other. It is not a sensation he wants to experience ever again.
"Shut up," the white-haired demon says. The demon holds up his hand and Mahito thinks this may be it. He might be done for. A flame arrow cuts through the green mist right before it reaches him.
He's alive? How?
Mahito scrambles back and hightails it out of there. He knows not why Sukuna saved his life, but he does not plan to stick around and find out. Let those two deal with that unconquerable shikigami. He needs to regroup. Heal his hand. Regroup with the others. And if he is lucky, Sukuna will have taken care of that demon lord and leave Mahito be.
A chill runs up his spine as he glances back. "Fuck." He throws himself to the right, barely missing the blast of energy sent his direction. His leg throbs. It is burned. His leg does not want to move. Crippled. Double fuck. He wills his unscathed hand to transform into something sharp. It works.
Yes! It works.
He cuts off the burned part of his leg, biting down on his tongue as the pain nearly makes him want to pass out. His body is weak. Far too weak. But his regeneration is working on his leg now. He wonders if the same will work on his other arm, so he cuts more of his arm off.
Almost as if there was a blockage, his regeneration flows freely, and his hand heals. The smell of rotting flesh assaults his nose. Fuck that demon lord.
Is this the power of a full demon or just that one? He does not want to find out. But why did he ask for Satoru Gojo? He needs to get away. As much as it pains him to leave the destruction to the others, staying alive long enough to see that woman's death is more important. Staggering to his feet, he moves further away from the battle. His newly regenerated leg is wobbly, frail.
A pain in the ass.
"Running away?" Geto chimes rounding the corner. Mahito scoffs. He looks a damn mess and Geto looks as serene as usual. "That's not like you."
"Regrouping. There is a demon lord in the midst."
The smile drops from Geto's face as if someone threw a bucket of acid on him. Ah, so this was not a part of Geto's scheme. Good to know he is not the only one confused. "And what did this demon lord look like?"
"White hair, gold eyes, a crescent moon on his forehead." Mahito flexes his hand. Good, the feeling is back. His strength is returning. Just in time, too. He spots the blonde sorcerer he fought back at the school. "Break is over," he declares. "I've got one more sorcerer to kill."
Geto laughs and moves to the side. "By all means, have your fun."
"You aren't going to join?"
"Later."
Mahito narrows his eyes. Something about Geto's refusal to join in on the chaos does not sit right with him. An eerie feeling builds in his gut. The stench of betrayal is coated on every word Geto speaks. "By the way, that demon lord is looking for Gojo Satoru."
"Is that so?" Geto murmurs, looking past Mahito and in the direction of the demonic energy. "How interesting."
The unease does not dissipate from his gut, but he ignores it for now. The need to test out his newly regenerated limbs is great. And with everyone distracted, no one will be coming to that blonde sorcerer's rescue.
What is that saying the humans are always going on about? Third time is the charm. Yeah, this time, that sorcerer will not walk away from the fight.
"Oh, Mahito, try not to get yourself killed. We still have lots to do."
That unease and the whisper of betrayal stays with Mahito long after Geto walks away. Even as he engages with the blonde sorcerer with the tired eyes, he cannot shake the feeling of something not being quite right.
Which is silly.
Geto is on the side of curses. He would not go to these lengths just to side with humanity.
#gojo satoru x kagome#gojo x kagome#crossover pairings#jujutsu kaisen x inuyasha#kagome higurashi#inuyasha fanfiction#gojo satoru fanfic#gojo satoru#inuyasha x jujutsu kaisen#how to tame a sorcerer
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End Of The Line
Chapter 27: Ain't No Grave
Thomas Hewitt X AFAB!OC
Word Count: 2210
Warnings: None
guess it works for the shorter chapters
He wore the same arrogantly placed grin that haunted the nightmares she'd never shared with Thomas, but it sat crooked now and curved wickedly, exposing the barren slots where teeth used to hang. His face was different, rearranged by her husband's hands in ways that couldn't be mended. His nose had been mangled beyond repair and canted to the right, littered with roseate scars that had stained his features underneath his wrinkled skin, permanently discoloring him. They wove their way upwards to encircle his bloodshot blue eyes, accentuating their irreverent gleam from within their cavernous, crimson sockets. Sockets that had suffered the same fate as his nose, they had been rendered uneven, misshapen. Physically, he had been reimagined as the monster he'd always been, but she recognized him all the same. Hoyt Hewitt had come to claim his own depraved version of redemption. He'd come for Ronnie.
"I didn't come here to do this quick. No," he said with a shake of his head and unmoving eyes, "I came here to enjoy it. I wouldn't mind sharin' a few last words, while you can still talk."
"There ain't nothin' I have to say to you," Ronnie replied matter of factly as she held that stone cold gaze.
Hoyt huffed, "We both know that ain't true, girl," he took a step forward to test her patience with amusement in his expression that was quickly shot down when she stood her ground.
"What do you want me to say, Hoyt? You want me to beg, plead for mercy I know damn well you didn't come here to give me? Maybe you forgot, so lemme remind you," Ronnie said with her head held high and her fists clenched at her sides to hide the tremble that had inevitably struck them, "I didn't beg then and I ain't gonna now."
"You'll beg," he said confidently as he shot an admiring glance to the chainsaw he held firm in his grip, "this things pretty damn good at makin' folks, even one's like yourself, do that."
"Then start it up, you son of a bitch," Ronnie spat, "we'll see if that's true or not."
He tutted in response and her jaw clenched at the condescending infliction, "Now, what did mama ever do to deserve such disrespect? If my memory serves me right, wadn't her who sent you on your way that night?"
Ronnie didn't gratify him with an answer, instead she tried to focus on keeping her breath controlled as it whistled through her nose. He knew better than to expect a response, so he continued.
"There ain't nothin' you could say that I don't already know and nothin' she hadn't already paid for," he said, licking his teeth as he took note of the way she stiffened, "you ain't the first one I'll be usin' this on, had to make sure I got some practice in for you."
Before her eyes closed and she drew in an uneasy breath, he caught a glimmer of that emotion he'd come there to stir within her. She was afraid, and though she was doing everything in her power to hide it from him, it was bound to slip out into the open. His words had forced the reality of the situation upon her like a tidal wave of blood. It had filled the room and crept up the walls of the house where this terror she felt had been forbidden. He had come there to destroy, to fulfill a purpose who's design had been forged the moment they met. She knew it then and she knew it now as she sunk unwillingly into the indigo abyss of his unforgiving eyes, he was her death. Handcrafted from the moment she was born to mark her with an expiration date and she was well past due. She'd escaped the scythe many a time before, and even then as she stood there with fate looming over her, she searched desperately for a way to dodge it just one last time. However, in the ache of her bones and deep in the pit of her pericardium, she knew there was no way to deny the reaper this time. If she ran, Penny would pay the price. He demanded a sacrifice and it had to be Ronnie, she wouldn't allow her daughter to suffer the fate she had been destined to. She had no choice but to stand before judgement and to allow tears to fall. It wasn't her own death she was mourning, she had been faced with it so many times she refused to fear it, it was the life she would lose that brought her to tears. Within his dark, cruel gaze she saw them, the family he'd come to take her from. It was too short a time, she thought to herself as she held onto the image her mind had created of their sweet faces. She wasn't ready to leave them. How harsh it was of death to demand such a thing from her, to force her to lie down and die when she wasn't finished. She wasn't finished living, she wasn't done loving Thomas and she wasn't done teaching Penny to stand before men like Hoyt with her head held high, even when they held a knife to her throat.
She hung her head to hide the sorrow she released in a silent sob and Hoyt reached a finger out to collect the tears that fell. He studied the minuscule puddle that dripped down his index and hummed.
"These are Tommy's," he said with satisfaction before he opened his mouth to taste them, "your tears are on his hands, just like your blood."
Ronnie's head snapped up with a quick sniffle so she could return her tear stained glare to him. He sneered at the sight of reddened and glassy eyes before he continued.
"He didn't tell you did he? That he couldn't do it," he said, each word oozing such arrogance that it made Ronnie sick, "that he couldn't kill me. He couldn't admit it, could he? That he left me down there in the basement with all the other dirty little secrets he kept from you, alive. All this time you thought you were livin' with a man, I wonder what it feels like to find out you left that house with a boy. A boy who ran with his tail tucked between his legs, a coward. Tell me what it feels like, Ronnie, will you do that for me? Put my curiosity to rest."
"Tommy ain't a coward," Ronnie said with the ghost of a smile, "boy, you are dumb."
He furrowed his brow as he watched her regain the confidence he thought he'd snuffed out once and for all. Like Thomas, Ronnie had a secret of her own, one that put all the power he thought he had over her right back in her hands. It put the light he was so determined to take out back in her eyes, burning brighter than it ever had before as she spoke.
"I left with a hero, Hoyt and I left a proud woman. If you were truly a man, you'd understand that, but you're not. I knew what Tommy did because he's a man who doesn't take the easy road, that's what makes him who he is, it's why I love him and it's why I'll keep on doin' that, long after you take my life. He forgave you and his bravery, his courage in doin' that put an end to what you created. He turned away not for fear, he did what he did for love, for grace. He wasn't afraid to accept that it wasn't his job to pass judgement on an evil like you. He gave you a chance to find your way, even if it meant it would lead to this. How could you call him a coward for that? How could you believe it would make me think less of him? If that's what you came here to do, then you lost long before you even left, because I will never give you what you want, Hoyt. You will never convince me that Thomas betrayed me, because he didn't. He did exactly what I wanted him to do, he saved himself. My blood was never on his hands, it's always been on yours. So you can kill me, I can't stop you. You can be the coward you believe Tommy is, but you can't kill what I found in him. You can't tear that away from me because it isn't yours to take, you don't have that power Hoyt, you never did and you never will. It's so far above you, what he and have, and it'll go on even after this. I'll always be with him, no matter how deep you bury me or how hard you burn me, I'll find him and you'll lose."
Hoyt could feel victory slipping from his weakened grip as he watched her find resolve in the peace she'd made with her fate. His hand clung so tightly to the saw that his fingernails had dug into his palm until his own blood began to stain the handle. The wrath he'd been brought into this world with had reached its peak within his tattered body and threatened to tear him at the seams of his chest.
"Don't ruin this for me," he growled through his teeth as he pressed down on what was left of them.
"You already done that for yourself, Hoyt," Ronnie whispered as she shook her head.
She watched his blood drip down the chain on the saw and took a deep breath to still the shudder that ripped through her at the sight. She resorted to silent prayer when he reached for the trigger switch. She prayed for Penny, that Hoyt would spare her and that she was deep in sleep, deep enough to save her from the cacophony of horror that would fill the home Thomas had built for her. She prayed it wouldn't haunt her, that the memory of her mother's end would fade instead of making a home in nightmare. That she would grow tall and strong, with wild hair to remember her by. That her heart would beat like her daddy's, like a hammer hell bent on justice. She prayed for Thomas. She held on to each syllable of his name as Hoyt stepped forward and prayed she wouldn't forget how to pronounce it in death. That where she was going, she would indeed find him there, even if the comfort of his arms was forbidden, barred by whatever veil would separate the living and the dead. She could die easy if she could just watch him live, if she could see him do everything Hoyt was about to deny her of. She could rest in his smile, even if it took him years to find it again. He would, he would for Penny, she told herself. He would live for her and he would smile again, he would find a way, because nothing was impossible if you had breath in your lungs. Perhaps she would find that the same was true without a heart beat keeping steady rhythm in her chest. She had fought to do the impossible in life and won, she thought it likely she'd be able to fight her way to victory in death just the same. She knew where she was going as he pulled the switch, she could feel a warmth envelop her like a pair of strong arms she knew quite well, offering her comfort in the chaos he unleashed upon her. It was almost as comforting as their last kiss, oh but she would have wanted one more. One more to keep that fire burning as her eyes closed, to bring her back home to him.
"I love you, Thomas," she whispered before the end, but she knew he'd remember, "thank you for loving me."
For a moment, she was there with him, safe in his arms while the sun beat down on their backs in a place she remembered well. The trees were greener than they'd been that day, as was the grass and the creek didn't lack for water. There wasn't a cloud in the cerulean sky, but there was no need to seek the cover of shadows. The heat was a welcome relief to the chill of death, it forbade it from touching her. It reminded her that she had known warmth and she wouldn't have to give it up, not there. Hoyt Hewitt wasn't death, death wouldn't be so unkind as to take that from her. Instead, it extended a hand that held a promise it would keep when she took hold of it. She could wait there for Thomas if she chose to, on the banks of the creek with the sun on her skin and it would stay with her until he came home to return his hand to hers. It promised companionship. He's never far, it reminded her, just rest, be patient.
"You're better at doing that here, being patient and it won't be long," death whispered as it wiped away the tears that had come along with her, "I know better than to keep you two apart."
#thomas hewitt#thomas hewitt fanfic#slasher#slasher fandom#horror#horror fiction#slasher fanfiction#horror fan#horror fanfiction#texas chainsaw the beginning
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SIMON MUHN && THE GLITZ BLITZ; EVENT 003
The plank of wood under Simon’s ass has left him wondering if the seats in the arena are just as uncomfortable. Did they at least get cushions, or were the onlookers subjected to the same hard seating? Maybe, Simon hopes, it means the event would not be as popular as the crown had hoped. Maybe they would call it off. Maybe he wouldn’t have to compete. Another name gets called. Another tribute begins their ascent back into sunlight. Hoots and hollers echo all the way below the stage, loud enough to belong to a full arena. Hope filters out of Simon’s chest. He’ll have to fight, no matter what. On his fingers, Simon keeps a tally of those who don’t come return to the darkness. Some who do are decorated in blood that does not belong to them. There are some with bruises, misshapen bones…and the ones who don’t return…he doubts they’re being treated in the medical tent for the next round. If they were going to die up there, the least the organizers could give him a comfortable chair. How could anyone expect him to die gloriously with a cramp in his back?
“Muhn Sung Min? Muhn Sung Min?”
The cramp in his back pops when he stands. Eyes from the other tributes must glare into the back of his neck - he feels his skin grow hot with their onlooking. “It’s Simon,” He corrects the gentleman tasked with leading them all up to the stage. “Just Simon.”
Each step towards the arena floor drags with wistful wishes that the stairs were cursed to never end. All his training in Beltran had been mental exercises. Even his work with Gilbert - Simon researched or planned. And when the duo ran into trouble, fleeing served as their escape route. But fighting? No. Certainly not. Never.
His eyes blink in the bright light - and it takes him time to properly observe the landscape in front of him. As he suspected, most of the stands are full. Part of his mind wants to ask if Han Jae or Garam or Lex or Min were amongst the faces. Unsure of what he prefers the answer to be, he brushes the thought to the side - staying alive holds more importance than if his partner, newfound children, or sister were about to watch his untimely demise. The curse he’d brought upon himself some decades prior had prevented him from staying dead - but there were some limits even he had been too cowardly to test. Death had never frightened the man who could not stay dead, who viewed ghosts as though they still walked among the living. Now that the next five minutes could leave Simon joining them…he misses the comfort that the worn wooden planks-for-benches had brought him down below.
Across the arena stands his opponent. Where he expects to find someone just as tall as him – if not taller, bulkier, and far more intimidating, stands a kid. Well, he’s not a child, but he had to be half’s Simon’s age at the very least. Even at this distance, Simon manages to spot a blush of red from acne, and a wispy beard protruding on his chin.
This couldn’t be what they found entertaining - a young kid against a man twice his size? None of Simon’s attention directs to the announcers; he hadn’t answered any of their questions, had no businesses to promote, had no desire to bring himself any further attention. Only once the younger man charges directly toward Simon does he wish he had listened to the announcer. Maybe some information about the man’s ability…why he was fighting…something anything oh goddess he kept getting closer while Simon remained frozen in place – he can’t hear his opponent pounding against the packed sand, the announcer, or the crowd cheering for one or both of their deaths.
Simon leaps to the side at the last possible second. Maybe if he just jumps outside of the circle, neither of them would have to fight; his entire participation could be null and void, and he could go back to his quiet life where the Glitz Blitz never even occurred.
His younger opponent, however, appeared to have other ideas. Just as Simon dodged, he began to make his way backward – apparently going for a second run at him. What would Min say? Observe his attacks, and keep an eye out for any weaknesses to take advantage of. Was this his power? Speed? Something to do with brute force? Whatever it was, he needed to get close - and Simon couldn’t allow that.
He takes a run at Simon again - this time with dust and sand flying in the air in his wake. Simon coughs but still manages to leap to the side. His opponent shouts from frustration. He’s fast, but not quite fast enough to run at Simon face-on. And yet, he’s still too fast for Simon to sit down and summon up a warrior ghost who could provide much-needed assistance and advice.
Perhaps this matchup was better than Simon had initially presumed.
This time when his opponent turns, Simon catches a better eye of his skin – which almost looks dull and ashy. Like a rock. Was his skin sharp and rough? Was his plan to, quite literally, pile drive Simon out of the arena before he had the chance to attack back?
All the fast movement has left Simon unbalanced on his feet. But as his opponent begins to put more space between them for a third attempt at brute-forcing him out of the arena, Simon mimics the movement - except he makes it a point to bring himself as close to the edge of the circle without stepping outside of it.
( Would the judges actually allow him to just step outside? He doesn’t know, nor does he want to risk it. Already shackled with debts, he can’t exactly afford the billion phil payout. )
Sand kicks into the air - now it stings his skin and blinds Simon’s eyes. He puts up his arm for protection, and to brace himself for the undoubtable pain that will come from being pushed outside of the arena. Is it his own breathing he can hear, or the younger man running at him? Simon’s stomach churns, and - just as before - he throws himself out of the way at the last second. Instinct, he blames it on, pure instinct of not wanting to be thrown down like a ragdoll.
A buzzer sounds when he looks up. The skin on his palms is red from grinding against the sand. He expects one of the workers to pull him back underground to dismiss him, but when they grab hold of his wrist, it’s to pull his arm up high. His face shows throughout the arena, with the word winner flashing just below it. He’d thrown himself to the side. His opponent hadn’t stopped fast enough and ran out of the circle.
“Check the bracket in Selphia Plaza to find out when your next fight is,” The worker tells him. But Simon hardly hears him, or the crowd. He’d managed to survive this bracket, yes, but he knew the next round would not leave him with just a dizzy head and a rash from the sand.
They lead him back under the arena, and only one thing feels certain in Simon’s mind - his lucky days on this earth had to be numbered.
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