#the reason he had to fake his death was because he knew they wouldn't stop hunting him

[vroomian]

do you have any idea how yrz would get involved with hazbin hotel? redemption strikes me as something he would be completely uninterested in (even without the whole fallen angel thing). but since he's yrz, and therefore forced to be caught up in ridiculous canon events, i'm sure he gets involved somehow.

i was thinking about this, but without explaining the whole timeline in my head it's by this point yrz and lucifer have known each other for close to 200 years or so. yrz actually held charlie while she was a baby! idk if charlie would remember yrz as anything but 'dad's friend who always sent me cool presents on my birthday (even when my actual parents forget)' though. not even meeting face to face or anything.

so yrz would check out the hotel as something like an uncle. like, this isn't my kid but people i like love this kid so i should probably make sure everything was good just in case.

and yah yrz is totally uninterested in 'redemption'. he's been to heaven and it's just more of the same. heaven only has more rules. people are people no matter where you go :/

he thinks it's pretty hopeless! even if it were possible that doesn't mean heaven would allow it. if souls could rise, then they could also fall. can you imagine heaven letting that little secret out?

[marlshroom]

came to the fucked up realization after finishing gravity falls again last night the parallels of the dream bubble bill made for mabel and the literal state of delusion he keeps himself in.

in the book of bill on the page where bill cipher describes how he figured out a way to manipulate her into giving him the rift, it says:

"Summers ending, my guy. Ending to death, bro. She'd do anything to make it last just a day longer. Probably something RASH and OUT OF CHARACTER, even!"

as we know, mabel cannot handle the fact that she will be growing up. that the relationship with her brother is going to change. she is scared of high school.

bill then says "That was it. She'd never make a deal with me. But she'd make a deal with someone she believed could give her more time. The dream was done. I had her."

bill then creates the dream bubble for mabel, he makes every one of her dreams come true, a place where time is still and she can be a kid forever. a lie so great that she wont have to face the truth.

in journal 3 on one of the pages bill is writing in code, we see this:

[ID: "I ask you, why must[should] time only move forward? Why must cause preceded effect. Who voted on the law of physics."]

my friend helped me break down what bill means by this:

why can we only move forward in the 4th dimension of time. why does something have to make another thing happen, why must cause come before the effect. why cant you move backwards, in the other direction, change the decisions youve made.

how interpret this is bill asking why he is not able to back and stop what he did to his family. he says to ford that he tried and failed to undo the past.** why did him wanting people to acknowledge his advantages instead of suppress him lead to the destruction of his whole dimension?

**(i just want to point out that this is probably the time where bill is the MOST open to anybody, or at least the first. to his henchmaniacs he had been telling them that he liberated his dimension until the oracle discovered the truth. here, to ford, he got so much closer to telling the truth. he SHOWS ford the last atoms of his world. he says that it was destroyed by a monster, not that it was liberated! destroyed)

back to when bill says "I had her" about mabel, he had her cause he knew exactly what needed to happen to trap mabel in a delusion because it is exactly what he is doing to himself. creating a fake narrative of what happened to him, that he was vindicated in killing his whole dimension. only ever doing exactly what he wants because confronting the truth is too scary for him(good fucking lord). the morality page offers good insight into this too.

i am actually just going to quote the whole page and highlight the important part. it speaks for itself really

"THE POINT IS it's[morality] is a very flexible concept! But parents and presidents don't want you to know that, because then you might start asking other questions, like who put them in charge, anyway? So they cram your brain full of guilt and regrets for transgressing the laws that they just made up(the laws that they made to prevent the destruction of their dimension, regardless of if the law + the wrongful medication of a fucking baby triangle did any good to actually prevent it). Wouldn't it be nice if you could put all that baggage down? Quell the shame that follows you everywhere for a lifetime of crimes? MAKE THE SCREAMS FINALLY STOP? The good news is you CAN silence that annoying voice, and here's how!

DENIAL

Works 100% of the time in every situation. What you you mean there are people who disagree? I can confidently say there aren't!

RATIONALIZATION

If you can do it, you can justify it! "Truth" is open-source code and anyone can edit it anytime! Want to be like me? List 3 "evil" things and then 3 "reasons why they're actually good." You'll be rationalizing like Bill in no time!

DETACHMENT

Did you know 100% of your human cells die and are replaced every 7 years? That means that anything you did 7 years ago wasn't even you-it was some dead loser! You can't be held accountable for what a dead person did! What? You think this is just another form of rationalization? I DENY THAT!

THE BILL CIPHER DECISION METHOD!

Working over the eons, the voices in my head teamed up and worked out a foolproof method for making any decision in any situation.

DO WHATEVER I WANT."

ooooooooooooooooooh boy.

he is fully admitting here that he is living in a completely different really in order to justify doing whatever he wants. he gives mabel the tools to deny, to rationalize, to detach herself from the reality of it all. that time has to move forward. and he thinks it will work because it worked on himself.

but it doesn't work on mabel because she understands that she needs other people. shes vunerable, she lets people in, admits when shes wrong. and bill cant do that because it would destroy the fantasy he's created for himself.

[mrs-kmikaelson]

Our Song and Dance⁵

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader, Katniss Everdeen x platonic!reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: LONG, brief descriptions of torture, mentions of forced prostitution, exploitation of minors, suicidal thoughts and tendencies, violence, murder, sick games, very complicated relationships, complex mental health issues, death, grief, and unhealthy coping mechanisms Words: 24K

Masterlist | Part 6

a/n: so here it is! 5 days later than i said, but it's here! and um, had the same problem w my hotch fic, but tumblr only allows 1000 blocks per post, so i had to cut this short. i'll be posting the rest w the ending shortly, but for now, enjoy! ly!

As far as you knew, love and pain were one and the same. You weren't sure exactly when this fact had been established in your mind; maybe it was with your mother, when she hugged you as she cried. Maybe it was with Finnick as you stood from the sidelines and watched him be in love with another woman. Maybe it was that love, the love Finnick and Annie had, that made you realize it, a love between two people who could never be together. Maybe it was the star-crossed lovers on TV, having no choice but to fake a love that they were too young to know.

You were too young to know it, too.

But the pain aged you, made you into a person you didn't know, a person you didn't like. That's how you knew that Finnick would never love you. 

How could he love you if you didn't even love yourself?

How could he love you if no one else did?

You knew that—oh, you knew that so well. But your heart couldn't handle that right now, to accept what your brain already knew. That's why you were avoiding Finnick at all costs, why you turned him away the other night. He had the power to turn you into putty in his hands, and you had to be stronger than that right now.

You had a nation to save. You didn't have time to save yourself from drowning. 

As far as you knew, the revolution was going along smoothly. It'd been about two weeks since you all went to 2, and in that time, Coin and Plutarch had been strategizing, planning out their next moves. For now, you were recuperating, adjusting to life in 13, which was easier said than done. 

You barely slept, often ending up in the training room late at night when it was supposed to be closed. The guard knew, you think, but he never came out to stop you. Sometimes, Katniss was already there by the time you arrived. Neither of you questioned it.

Something told you she couldn't sleep, either.

Couldn't. 

Wouldn't.

You avoided common areas during the day, doing everything in your power to steer clear of the beautiful blue eyes you once adored- still adored. You didn't want to see Finnick Odair. You didn't want to see the victor of The 65th Hunger Games. You didn't want to see the charming playboy. You didn't want to see the convincing actor. You didn't want to see that boy who loved to swim as a child. You didn't want to see the hopeful soldier. And most of all, you did not want to see Finnick, your Finnick.

Because he wasn't yours.

And he never was.

You didn't say it out loud to her, but a part of you thought that maybe Katniss knew this. Maybe she was learning to read you just as you were learning to read her. So you'd end up eating in one of your rooms together, away from everyone else. Sometimes Johanna would join you, only sometimes. Things were different now.

You could tell that she wasn't used to this, and she didn't want to get used to it. It was always you, her, and Finn. And now, you couldn't stand to be around him for reasons you couldn't tell her.

But you think maybe she knew, too.

Maybe a part of her always did.

Sometimes Prim would join you. Katniss' cold exterior would melt and she'd smile larger than you'd ever seen just with her sister's presence. Primrose was innocent and sweet, too sweet for this world. She didn't know it—you didn't talk about these things—but she gave you a little bit of faith in humanity, day by day.

And seeing her and Katniss together gave you a lot more than just a little bit of faith. Seeing the way they were with each other made you wonder how things would've played out if you had a sister, a sibling to care after, a sibling that could've grown up with you, been there with you through your childhood before you stopped being a child.

In a way, you were glad that it was only you, that there wasn't another person who had to share in your pain. But sometimes, you thought, maybe it wouldn't have been so painful if you weren't alone.

Katniss was lucky. And so, you told her that. But unlike that day in the training centre, you didn't tell her out of spite or to taunt her. You told her because she was lucky, and she deserved to know that.

"You know, I used to be jealous of you," you said. The brunette looked up from her food, brows furrowed while your eyes were still trained on the door that Prim had just left from.

"Jealous of me?" She echoed, confusion lacing her voice. A ghost of a smile grew on your face.

You're lucky, you know.

How so?

"You have a family that really loves you, that beautiful sister of yours. At the time, I would've killed to feel a love like that, a love so unconditional." You thought of their mother and your smile widened ever so slightly. She may not have been mother of the year, but she was there. And, really, that's all you ever wanted. That's all anyone could ever ask for. "My mom was, uh... she was never really like that, I guess." You chuckled a bit. "And you already know how our relationship ended up."

The room was silent. The sound of the vent lightly thudding in the background was the only thing you could hear, accompanied by your song. Sometimes, around Katniss, the song got quieter.

And sometimes, around her, it got louder.

After a moment, she spoke. "You have that, Y/N."

Not expecting her to have responded, you turned to her, meeting her eyes staring at you intently. "Hm?"

"An unconditional love," she repeated, her eyes soft as if she were afraid of setting you off. "You have that."

At her words, the smile on your face dimmed. Finnick.

You're my world, Y/N.

You blinked the memories away, trying your best to ignore his face flashing beneath your eyes every time you did so. It was surreal, almost, to think that it was his eyes were what kept you anchored while you were in the Capitol.

And now his eyes kept you anchored as you tried to swim away.

You sighed. Katniss was still so young. She didn't live the victor's life long enough to understand, and you were glad she didn't. There were some things that she never had to experience, things she never had to know, things about you that she couldn't conceptualize, so you tried to put it all into words.

Even though you knew that no words could ever convey what you'd been through.

"I can see why you'd think that, Girl on Fire, but Finnick and I were never... fireworks."

"He told me."

Your head shot up at her reply. You waited for her to add something more, to say she was joking, but the punchline never came. Your breath got caught in your throat. "He told you?"

She hesitated, looking half like she regretting saying anything. "He told me about how you guys started." She paused, letting your thoughts run wild, memories swimming through your brain the same way you used to swim through district 4 waters. 

Can we- can we just be together tonight?

"He loves you, Y/N."

What do you mean? We are together.

No, I mean- can I- I want to hold you.

A small, humourless laugh left you, the same laugh you held back when you met young kids, telling you they wished they could have a love like that. You held back the laugh and the tears and didn't tell them that they should be saving their wishes for something better.

The Prince and Princess of Panem.

If only the kingdom knew that this story didn't end in happily ever after.

If only they knew this wasn't a love story at all.

"No." You looked back up at her, smiling bitterly. "No, he doesn't, Katniss. I'm sorry our act was so good that it actually fooled you." It almost fooled me, too, you thought. But you'd been dancing long enough now to know better.

Y/N, I swear to you on everything I believe in that I'm telling you the truth.

It's impossible.

I l-

"It wasn't an act," Katniss cut your thoughts off, latching onto your hand tightly. You resisted the flinch. "I could tell you loved each other—anyone could."

Her eyes were desperate, and you couldn't figure out why. For some reason, she believed in what she was saying. She believed in this love, this love that did not exist, but why wouldn't she? Nobody knew what happened behind closed doors. Nobody knew that you and Finnick only started dating to try and save yourselves from the something that was something bigger than you. Nobody knew that he called out to Annie when he had nightmares.

You weren't even sure that he knew it himself. 

"You underestimate Finnick's acting capabilities," you said, suddenly wishing you had a drink in your hand.

She was quick to reply. "You underestimate how much he cares about you." 

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The look on her face... she almost looked offended, appalled that you didn't agree with her. At the same time, she looked like she knew something you didn't.

But you knew a mountain of things that she didn't, that nobody knew.

So you didn't respond, opting to continue eating your food, pretending that this conversation never started. Pretending, pretending, pretending...

Katniss looked at you for a few seconds, maybe a few minutes, before she looked back down at her food, too.

Eventually, you got up and headed for the training centre, conversation forgotten.

And she never mentioned it again.

You were walking down the halls when you saw her. You had just been to see Coin; she told you no, that you and Katniss wouldn't be going to the Capitol.

Part of you was angry. How dare she tell you that you couldn't do this? How dare she say no after all you'd been through? This was your fight. It was your right.

But the other part of you was amused.

Maybe it was going through The Hunger Games twice, or maybe it was just every other fucked up thing that'd happened to you in life, but you found her funny. It was laughable that she thought she could tell you what to do; you'd respect her for everything else, but not this. She couldn't tell you what to do about this.

You were going to kill President Snow with your own sword.

And nobody was going to be able to stop you.

That was the thought running through your head when you turned a corner, and suddenly you were face to face with a redhead you hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime ago.

Why would you do that for me? It was supposed to be me. Supposed to be me, supposed to me, supposed to be me.

Annie.

She stopped in her tracks, eyes going wide. She looked like she hadn't aged a day.

So why did it feel like you hadn't seen her in years?

Why did it feel like you were avoiding her?

Before you could answer your own questions, you felt arms wrapping around you, holding you tightly. Your body went stiff. It's Annie, you told yourself. So, after a few seconds, you hugged her back just as tightly. 

This was your friend. This was the woman you volunteered for. And more importantly, this was your soulmate's other half. 

This was Annie.

You heard her sniffling as she pulled back, voice cracking. "I've missed you so much. We've missed you so much, Y/N." We.

We.

You didn't know how to respond, so you did what you did best. You didn't say anything, just pulling her in for another hug. You blinked away the tears threatening to well in your eyes.

And Annie didn't know this. You may never grow the courage to say it out loud. But even though seeing her broke something in you, right now, she was helping you more than you're sure you ever helped her.

After seeing Annie, you spent the rest of the day together. For a day, you forgot about Coin, and Snow, and the revolution all together. You forgot you were the Princess. You forgot that this was the woman Finnick was in love with. For a day, you were just with your old friend.

You shared memories of district 4 together, ignoring the fact that it was all rubble now. You talked about her art, how she'd had so much time to create in 13. Part of you envied that, but the other part was just proud and happy for her.

She'd come a long way from the girl crying in your living room, inconsolable and repeating the same words over and over again. Her cheeks looked fuller and there was this light in her eyes that you never thought you'd see again.

You were enjoying yourselves.

Until she said it, and your bubble broke.

"I met someone."

At first, it didn't really register, and then your breath suddenly halted, but Annie was none the wiser to your state of shock, smiling and staring off.

"He's- he's perfect. He's everything." She looked back at you, her eyes twinkling. "I'm in love. Oh, I'm so in love with him."

In love.

With someone else.

You half-composed yourself, stuttering, "W-with who?"

"His name's Julian," she told you. "He's from 12. And I know I haven't known him that long, but Y/N, he's the one." She brought her hand out in front of you, letting you see a ring you hadn't seen before. And now, you were sure that your heart stopped. "He proposed. And I said yes!" she squealed.

You couldn't breathe.

Music filled your ears.

Annie was getting married.

And it wasn't to Finnick.

You realized you'd been quiet too long and mustered up some sort of smile. "Annie, that's- that's incredible. I'm-" shocked "so happy for you."

She was so delighted that she didn't notice your demeanour, grabbing onto your hand. "Y/N, I want you to be my maid of honour." What? She continued, "And Finnick's gonna be Julian's best man. I want both of my best friends up there with me."

You couldn't breathe.

But you responded, nonetheless, because your problems didn't matter. What you felt didn't matter. This was about Annie.

You plastered on a smile and lied, "Of course. I wouldn't miss it for anything."

Annie clapped and then went on and on about the wedding as the music just got louder and louder.

You're my world, Y/N, echoed in your ears.

Little did Annie know, your world just came crashing down.

You paced through the halls of 13 aimlessly, even though a part of you knew where you were going. Music thumped loudly in your ears, and even if you had no destination, your mind was only dancing to that music.

Dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing-

You ran a hand through your hair, heart rate speeding up. You didn't know what to think. 

There was a perfectly crafted image of what you and Finnick were in your head—and that image was nothing. You were nothing. You were "together" out of obligation, to protect your families. And now that your mother was dead and his family was safe, none of that mattered anymore. The picture was ripped to shreds and the frame had shattered to pieces. 

This image was sometimes foggy, and sometimes you may have gotten confused, but through all the smoke and confusion, you still knew what this was. It was all a part of the game, a game with no referees but a guarantee in death if you didn't play right.

And if your punishment wasn't death, then you'd wish it was.

You knew that better than anyone else.

But now, now Annie had taken all those shredded pieces and put them together without even knowing it, creating a picture that you didn't know how to interpret.

You didn't understand.

You saw the way he looked at Annie—you saw it the moment you met her.

Rapid knocks hit your door as you were fixing up boxes upstairs. You'd just moved in with Finnick and were organizing your things. You raised a brow, putting a box down and heading downstairs.

The knocks continued up until you opened the door. A girl with red hair and porcelain white skin stood on the other side, a pretty smile on her face. Your confusion only grew. This girl looked like she couldn't be any older than 16.

What was a pretty teenager doing at your door?

She spoke like she was reading your thoughts. "Hi! I'm Annie." You were taken aback by her bubbliness as she held her hand out for you to shake it. You looked down, scanning it before deciding on taking it just to be polite.

"I'm-"

"Y/N." She cut you off, then sheepishly pulled her hand back. "I- sorry, I just- everybody knows who you are."

You intook a sharp breath, doing your best to smile and thwart her comment. Everybody did know who you were—you needed no reminder about that.

She kept talking. "And you're, uh, you're Finnick's-"

"Annie?"

You turned to see Finnick walking up to the door, wiping his hands with a towel. He must've been in the kitchen, you thought.

Her nervous ramblings stopped as her smile widened. "Hey." She glanced back at you, brows wiggling. "I just met the girl." 

"Oh, uh- yeah." He awkwardly cut himself off, coming to stand next to you. And your confusion just heightened.

Annie held something out in her other hand that you hadn't noticed before. "Your watch," she explained. "You left it the other day."

His watch?

"Oh, thanks." He took it from her grasp, and you watched as their fingers brushed. And then you looked up at his face and saw a sparkle in his eyes.

It was almost unrecognizable. No one had ever looked at you that way.

But you knew what it was.

And that's because you were starting to look at him that way.

They continued talking but you had tuned them out by that point, dull music ringing in your ears.

You should've known better.

Of course, there was a girl. A girl who was sweet, kind, and pretty. A girl who was nothing like you. 

The girl Finnick loved.

He said something to you, asking if he could walk her home. You just nodded. It wasn't a question, no matter how he phrased it.

Annie said goodbye to you and then you watched as they walked out the door, almost forgetting to shut it behind them.

You put a hand on your chest, something akin to a laugh leaving you.

Someone had told you that you were heartless once.

That was funny.

Because, at that moment, you felt your heart hurting just fine.

The memory made your eyes foggy and your breathing irregular. You were hyperventilating.

If Annie was getting married, then what was that? What was that memory? What were all the looks, smiles, and sleepless nights? What were the past eight years for?

What the fuck did any of that mean? What was that supposed to mean to you?

Was he letting her get away— after everything?

Another part of your brain whispered, what if he never had her in the first place?

No. No.

You changed course, walking to the training room. You weren't going to think about this anymore. Thinking about this only made your head spin, spinning the record faster.

If that record spun any faster, it just might break. 

And you had no idea what'd happen then.

Soldiers filed out of the room you stood in front of, each saluting you as they went. You gave a nod back, resisting the urge to say something. You knew that, no matter what you said, they were still going to treat you like royalty.

It was better than your treatment in the Capitol, you supposed.

But, to the better part of you, this treatment was just a stain reminding you of the blood shed.

Plutarch stood at the end of the soldiers' line, ushering you inside. "Princess," he greeted, putting his hand on your back.

You ignored the disgusted shiver that went down your spine, greeting him back. "Heavensbee." You glanced at the greying woman seated at the long table. "Madam President."

"Y/N." She got up, shaking your hand. "Lovely to see that you're doing well."

You gave her somewhat of a smile, or at least hoped that you did, but didn't say anything.

The three of you sat down after the unpleasant exchange of pleasantries. You would ask where Katniss was, but she already told you that she'd be going to see Peeta. You didn't ask to come with her.

Not yet.

Besides, you knew that she needed this. They needed to talk.

You didn't know what happened when you guys came back, what happened between them, nor did you fully know what they did to him in the Capitol, but if it was anything like what they did to you, then it was bad.

Coin's voice broke through your thoughts. "I think the only thing left to say... is thank you."

You looked up at her, spotting the look on her face and realizing that you weren't going to like the rest of this conversation. "I need to be in the Capitol," you stated, adding, "Katniss and I."

Coin was shaking her head before you even finished your sentence. "No, you have done your job. You've been very successf-"

"There is no such thing as success until Snow is dead." At my hands.

Alma pursed her lips, no doubt at the fact that you interrupted her. You'd apologize, but you really didn't have the time or energy to care about that right now. You'd been apologizing for your presence for years, respecting every Alma Coin or Capitol resident that came along. 

You were done.

"And that will happen," she affirmed. "But you need not worry about any of it." You opened your mouth, but she kept going. "You've helped unify the districts in a very short amount of time, for which I thank you, but now we just want you to rest. And to heal."

Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She was pushing you aside.

"The last the rebels saw me, I was lying on the ground with a bullet in my chest."

Plutarch took your attention. "Y/N, we won't let this momentum go to waste. We'll shoot more propos, right here in 13, showing them that you're alive."

"No, I should be down with the troops-"

"It'll be like being on the front lines-"

Coin interjected, "As far as the soldiers know, you survived a bullet to the heart." Her voice was earnest, but if you knew any better, which you did, then you knew to look past her voice to the calculation in her eyes. "I think they'll understand why you're not with them."

You held back a scoff. "And Katniss? What's the excuse for her?"

Coin's resolve only hardened, a smile appearing on her face, a smile you didn't like. "Look, Y/N, when we win this war, we'll fly you both in for the surrender. We'll need you for the ceremony." She paused, nodding to herself. "You're very valuable to us."

Valuable.

Like an artifact.

You thought of saying something but thought better of it, hiding your true thoughts like it was second nature to you—and it was. You nodded, smiling back at her. "Well, whatever it is you need me to do, I'll do it." The lies flowed from your lips smooth as honey.

You got up, shaking her hand once more and bidding your farewell to the both of them. As you left the room, the thousands of things that'd been on your mind left and only one thought remained.

You were gonna watch Snow take his last breath, and you'd be the one to have taken it from him.

No matter what.

Annie's wedding came faster than light, making you break your promise to yourself not to think about it. With Finnick across from you on the stage, it was impossible not to think about it.

You could feel his gaze burning into you, but you ignored it—at least, that's what it looked like to him. To you, you weren't ignoring anything. To you, he was at the forefront of your mind.

Hell, even as Annie walked down the aisle, Finnick was all you could think about. Your relationship, or lack thereof, was all you could think about. The day you met, the nights in the Capitol together, the days when you lost a tribute, the dinners, the nights you slept together, the times he'd kiss you without a camera in sight, the way he calmed you down during the Quell— your whole life together.

SImultaneously, the stolen glances at Annie flashed through your mind, too. The way he'd call her name as he slept, the way he fell apart when her name was called in the Reaping, the way he broke down with her in your living room, the way he'd kiss you for the cameras and then go to see her later that day.

What were you supposed to make of that?

A part of you thought it was comical. There was an entire revolution happening, the weight of the crown and Panem on your shoulders, but with just the simplest thought of Finnick, all of that dissipated into thin air and got magnified at the same time.

He had the type of power over you that a shepherd had over his sheep.

Did he know that?

Annie's voice sounded, breaking you from your trance. "From this day forth, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer. I promise to love and cherish you each day."

You looked towards them, seeing her hands intertwined with the boy's, sincere smiles on both of their faces and love-crazed looks in their eyes. They looked at each other like it was just them in the room. "I, Julian Cinder, take you, Annie Cresta, as my wife from this day forth," he proclaimed, quiet resolution in his voice. "Whatever happens from this point onward, together or apart, we will always be united. One life, one purpose, one destiny."

"You may kiss the bride," the officiator told him. Julian didn't need to be told twice, reaching downward for Annie's lips immediately, kissing her gently. 

Applause overtook the room. You wiped at a tear underneath your eye before joining them, clapping and forcing a smile. 

You were happy, you were so happy that Annie was in love and that the boy she was in love with loved her just as much. But you'd be lying to yourself if you said you were crying out of happiness.

Your tears weren't happy tears. 

Julian's vows were beautiful. The love that they shared was more beautiful than any painting you had ever seen, any song you had ever heard, any place you'd ever been to. And it was real.

It was beautiful.

But it was more beautiful and real than anything you'd ever get to experience.

As the reception started, you didn't stay long to watch the newlyweds' first dance. Music started playing, but it did nothing to silence the music already playing in your head.

Unbeknownst to you, you weren't the only one leaving the wedding early.

Your heels clicked rapidly against the floors, silent footsteps following you. You had just made it to the hallway your room was in when you were spun around.

Like a reflex, you automatically brought your fists up without even thinking, about to swing when you saw the perpetrator.

Finnick.

You lowered your fists, bringing one hand to your chest and breathing heavy. You couldn't tell if your reaction was from being touched or from being touched by him.

He held his hands up in surrender, opening his mouth, but you weren't letting this happen again. Not during these times, not today, not now. Maybe not ever.

You couldn't.

You went to turn, but this time, as if he'd learned from last time, his hand latched onto your arm. Your heart rate sped up, and suddenly, there was a pit in your stomach.

Was it butterflies?

Or was it fear?

You tried pulling away your arm, but his hold was like steel, unrelenting. "Y/N, we need to talk-"

"No." You refused to meet his eyes, pulling your arm harder, seemingly for no reason.

"I need to talk to you."

You shook your head. "No. We-" Fuck. "We have nothing to talk about."

"Yes, we do-"

"No, we don't." Water built in your eyes. "I have nothing to say to you." Liar.

"Y/N-"

"Stop it."

"We need to-"

You exploded. "You let her get away!" You looked up at him, and just like that, the dam in your eyes broke. Because the look on his face split your heart in two. "You-" your voice cracked "you let her get away."

Finnick went silent. His hold loosened, but you didn't notice. You didn't even notice the tears in his eyes. 

His voice was no louder than a whisper. "Y/N-"

You cut him off. He wanted to talk, so you would talk. You had enough things to talk about that it'd make your voice go hoarse, enough words stuck inside to you to fill scrolls and still have something left to say. "A-After everything, you just let her go- just like that."

"Y/N, baby, please-"

"Why," you asked, but your words sounded nothing like a question—and they weren't. You were demanding the truth, not asking for it. You wanted to know why. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I love you."

Your breath was knocked out of your chest. 

And for the first time since the Quell, the first time since you met Finnick—the first time since when you won The Hunger Games, the music stopped entirely.

And then it picked back up like it never did before. 

The music was loud, swirling around you like mist, like you could feel it, like it was pushing you to dance as your feet were glued to the floor. Finnick just stood there, staring at you helplessly. He said it so quickly that you almost thought he didn't think about it—did he? Did he think about his words before he said them? Did he think about the words that had the power to break you and build you up?

Did he think about the words that made you feel like you were alive and dying all at the same time?

Three months ago, you would've been overjoyed to hear him say that—to hear him say anything like that. But now it just felt cruel.

So your response was like nothing you would've ever imagined.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Finnick's face dropped. A part of you, the part of you that got butterflies when he said what he said, felt bad. That part of you felt terrible. That part of you wanted nothing more than for him to be happy and for him to love you.

But the other part of you had learned that Finnick being happy and loving you did not exist in the same universe. The other part of you wanted to make him happy but had already accepted that love was not in the picture. This other part of you would go to great lengths to make him happy, like volunteering for deadly games and adding gasoline to the fire that was this revolution. But this part of you refused to pretend anymore.

You weren't going to play anyone's games anymore.

Nothing like the Finnick you once knew, he stammered, "I- I said I love you."

You scoffed. "Love? You think you love me?" 

His eyes narrowed, like he was getting angry. "Yes, Y/N, I love you."

Your eyes hardened, tears no longer falling. "Oh, is that what this is? Are we in love now?" He opened his mouth to speak but your sudden laughter cut him off.

Someone told you that you were heartless once.

Wasn't that funny?

You went on, "So, the sleepless nights I had, waiting for you to get home—was that love?" You stepped closer to him. "The nights when I knew you were with her, the nights you'd hold onto me and I could still smell her, the nights when you called. out. for her in your fucking. sleep.—is that love, Finnick?" You paused, laughing again like you were crazy, and maybe you were. "I didn't even know that we were in a relationship, let alone in love."

He shook his head rapidly with conviction, looking like you had just stabbed him. "No- no, I was never with her, not like that-"

"Oh, of course not-"

"You're talking about it like it was all bad! It- it wasn't, I- I fell in love with you, Y/N." He moved his hand up from your wrist to grasp your hand, picking up the other one and holding it, too. And for some reason, you let him. "What about the nights we spent together, the days in, the dinners, the last eight years-" he cut himself off, breathing heavily and staring into your eyes. "You can't tell me that we weren't in love."

Finnick's blue eyes were like a whirpool, sucking you in yet again. He looked like he truly believed in what he saying, so much so that you almost believed it, too. You wanted to. You wanted nothing more than to believe that your time together meant something, that he felt the same way you did. 

If you were still that same woman, you would've believed it. But even she was a swimmer.

You were not going to be sucked into his whirlpool. Not again.

Not after it tore you apart last time.

You snapped, "It was fake! All of it was fake!" You held back onto his hands, tightening your grip. Finnick's eyes may have been a whirlpool, but yours were a storm. "I remember that; it was my idea. And I am sorry- I am so sorry for the years I have stolen from you, but I had people to protect back then" mom "and I don't anymore." You stepped closer to him, if that was even physically possible. "Don't you get it? I have lost everything. But I never lost you." You shook off his hands, and even as such anger coursed through you, a tear raced down your cheek. "You can't lose something you never had in the first place."

Finnick recoiled. For a moment, he looked sick until he regained composure, reaching for your hands again but you quickly stepped back. "Y/N-"

"You know, you're half right, though." A humourless smile came to your face. "We may have never been in love, but I know that I was." And I still am.

Without waiting for him to respond or giving him the opportunity to suck you in again, you turned and quickly went into your room, locking the door as soon as it closed.

You ran for the toilet, expecting vomit to rise. You sat there, waiting for it come, but nothing came up. Suddenly, you errupted into laughter, the kind of laugh that made your stomach hurt, and then those laughs slowly turned into loud sobs, tears running down your cheeks.

You're fuckin' heartless, 4.

Oh, how funny that was.

Maybe they were finally right. Maybe you were heartless now.

Because your heart had just been ripped out of your chest.

You didn't leave your room the rest of the day, except to congratulate Annie and go to the training room later at night. Katniss met you there, dull. You didn't ask her what happened, and she didn't ask you, either. You sparred and pretended that the last few hours didn't happen, that Finnick didn't let the woman he loved get away, that he didn't say what he said.

You already cried to yourself for hours. You didn't need to reflect on it anymore.

You were fine.

"No, you hold it with both pointers facing outward, like a bat." You corrected the position of Katniss' hands on the sword. She may have had a gift for the bow, but anyone with eyes could see that, that wasn't the case for swordsmanship. My God, she's helpless.

She scoffed, "You're acting like I'm inept. I can wield a sword just as well as you can shoot an arrow."

"Sureeee."

Katniss rolled her eyes but continued doing what you were telling her to do. She said she was curious. Little did you know, curious meant terrible.

Once her hands were in position and she was holding properly, she took a swing. You held back the urge to wince. She wasn't that bad, but it was pretty damn bad. "No, see- you can't swing like that. Way too slow, not enough force—have you seriously never wielded a sword before?" You grabbed one, holding up it and demonstrating. "You swing like this. If you swing the way you're swinging, then you're not gonna be able to slice anything."

"C'mon, this'd knock someone down."

"Well, the goal isn't to knock someone down; it's to kill them on impact."

"What, so you went into your Games with the mindset that you'd just kill immediately?"

You intook a breath, your bubble of pretend breaking. No, that wasn't what you went into your Games thinking at all. After a moment, you responded, "No." Pause. "I actually didn't think I stood a chance." Katniss went silent, but for some reason, you kept talking, eyes on the wall. "I would've been the youngest that year, but um... Bay was younger than me. And he wanted a longer life, a better life, so I fought for him. It was him and my mom." And now they're both dead. You cleared your throat, turning back to look at her and faking a smile. "So I decided ruthlessness was the only way to survive in there. And then when I got out, it wasn't ruthlessness that kept me alive; it was being royalty." You chuckled.

Never would you have ever imagined this being your life when you were younger, that you'd be Princess. But here you were, alive and well.

Or at least as well as you could be in your position.

Some had it worse.

You were fine.

You turned, about to move on and keep going when Katniss' voice broke the silence. "Aren't you tired?" You turned your head back to her to see the sword hanging from her hands, a look of exhaustion hiding behind her seemingly empty eyes, despair in her undertone. "'Cause I am. I don't know about much anymore, but I know that I am tired."

You stared at her, this time really looking at her. It was so easy to forget how young she was, that she was practically still a child. You supposed that a victor just grew into their role.

You did.

You were just fifteen.

After a moment, you lifted the corners of your lips as best as you could, trying to genuinely give her a smile, even if you could barely bring yourself to. "I am tired, Katniss," you affirmed. Despite the contrasting look on your face and the feeling in your heart, you didn't feel tears form, not for this; you had accepted this by now, and as wrong as it was, she needed to, too. "But it is not ours to be tired."

You turned around, not turning back this time until you'd replaced your sword for a bow. You turned back, switching Katniss', too. "Here," you said. "Let's switch back to the archery since you're shit with the swords."

She looked at you for what felt like forever but was really only a few seconds. And in those few seconds, the illegible book that was Katniss Everdeen became crystal clear, scibbled writing turning to print. A million emotions ran through her eyes: exhaustion, anger, devastation. But a single emotion rose above all, and you knew this because you lived it: the thirst for blood—a thirst that could only be quenched once you accepted that you were thirsty at all.

Finally, she looked away, nodding. "Okay." She looked back up. "But I'm not shit at anything."

A breath left you, like a weight that'd been lifted off your shoulders. You were back to normal. "Whatever you say, Everdeen."

And then, just like that, you resumed, and everything was fine again.

Or maybe it wasn't.

Maybe it never was.

But that wasn't the point.

In this reality, if you said something was nothing, then it was. If you were supposed to be the Princess and lead a revolution, then that's what you were going to do. If you said you were fine, then you were fine.

Weren't you?

Whatever you say.

You and Katniss retired to your rooms after a few rounds of shooting and one round of sparring. You made it all the way to your door, but never opened it. Your feet kept moving, moving past your room and all the others until you made it to the nuclear weaponry.

You weren't going back to your tonight.

Or ever.

They were shipping supplies to the Capitol tonight from hangar 2. This was your window. Coin didn't want you in the Capitol on the frontlines, but that was exactly where you needed to be. You couldn't let someone else fight your fight. You needed to do this.

You'd said your goodbyes. You just saw Katniss, and though Johanna may not have directly said it, she knew you were leaving, too. She was the one who even told you they were leaving tonight. Peeta was getting better; he wasn't totally there yet, but he was getting there. Annie was happy, finally happy, living the life of her dreams amongst the nightmare you all lived in. Everyone was accounted for.

And Finnick... well, you'd said goodbye to him, too.

It was time.

You crept past any guards with ease, only stopping to pick up your go bag. Like a snake, you made your way through the many bombs and missiles, ignoring the fact that there was a metaphor in there somewhere. Just as the hovercraft opening was closing, you jumped in, rolling on impact.

Once the door closed, your eyes scanned your surroundings. Boxes and cargo filled the room, but it was otherwise empty. You let go of a breath you didn't even know you were holding. You were in the clear.

Might as well settle down, you thought. It was a long way from 13 to the Capitol.

You sat down in a corner, despite having the place to yourself, and brought your knees up to your chest, momentarily closing your eyes. You weren't gonna get much rest in the next few days, but you couldn't sleep now and risk not waking up. Yes, you were tired.

But tired was not a possession that someone like you could own.

You opened your eyes, opting to distract yourself by looking through your bag. 

You were lucky Katniss didn't question the absence of your sword in the training room earlier, nor did she notice that some of your shared arrows were missing along with your crossbow. That was because everything you needed was in the bag: weapons, gadgets, and clothing. But none of that was of any real importance to you.

What you pulled out wasn't one of the many pristine articles in the bag. It was damaged. The paper felt delicate in your hands, fragile. It was peeling, ripped around the edges, but maybe that was just because you brought it with you everywhere.

A photograph.

A photograph of yourself when you were younger. Before your father died. Beforen your mother went crazy. Before your name was pulled in the Reaping. Before you killed ruthlessly to survive just to end up wanting to die, anyway. Before you met a boy that made you want to live.

You were still a child here. Your smile was real, tugging at your full cheeks. You don't remember the exact day this was taken, but you remember that you were happy.

Tears threatened to reach your eyes, but you blinked them away. You used to pull out this photo to make yourself feel better, but now it seemed to have the opposite effect. Now, it just reminded you of everything that you'd lost.

But that was the point.

You didn't pull it out to cheer yourself up anymore. You pulled it out for that reminder, to remind yourself what you were fighting for. 

Your childhood was stolen from you. Every good thing you could've possibly ever had was ripped away from you, all because of who you happened to become, all because of the world you happened to live in.

You'd be damned if you'd let another child go through what you went through.

If you had your way, no child would ever go through that again.

And you would have your way.

No matter what.

It wasn't long enough before you felt the hovercraft lowering, the pop in your ears telling you that you were landing. It wasn't really noticeable. You'd felt worse pains in your life.

You peeked your head out as the door opened, quickly turning back and intaking a shaky breath. It was a full crowd out there, and you could bet your ass there'd be cameras.

"It's okay," you murmured. "You can do this." You'd been through two Games, forced sex work, and President Snow's personal torture. A crowd was the least of your worries. 

However, this time was different. This time, you weren't gonna walk out there with a smile. You weren't gonna twirl or make your sleeves go up in flames. You weren't gonna dazzle anybody.

No.

This was real.

This wasn't a show anymore. It was still a game—a different game, but a game, nonetheless, and you were nothing if not a great player.

You could remember your first Games like they were yesterday.

"You're fuckin' heartless, 4."

You laughed. "Oh, am I?" You swung at the boy's torso with your sword as he narrowly dodged it. "That's not what the papers are saying," swing, "are they?"

The boy and you danced around each other in a circle, danced, and danced, and danced, but only one of you would walk away singing. 

"You killed her," he spat at you, anger and desire shining in his eyes—the desire for revenge. "You killed Myrto."

You scoffed, "What, was that 6's female tribute? Be glad I made it quick." You swung again, this time cutting flesh, resulting in a hiss.

You were acting. Dancing. You knew Myrto's name and you knew she was from 6. You knew the names of everyone in the arena, but pretending not to made it easier. Pretending you didn't see Myrto hug the boy in front of you when you were at the Capitol made it easier when you snapped her neck.

Myrto and Spyros, 6's promising tributes. They were close. But he shouldn't have let her go off alone. He shouldn't have let you do that, even if you were doing her a service. Nobody in here would've given her as quick of a death as you did; many wouldn't have cared about the light in her eyes. Despite Spyros' words, there were many that were more heartless than you.

Or so you told yourself.

He swung back at you as you sidestepped, countering with a swing of your own, metal hitting metal. He looked you dead in the eye. "She was scared of you. She saw you kill that guy with your bare hands and was terrified the same would happen to her."

You leaned in, sneering in his face, "That guy came at me first, and then he touched Bay. You don't touch what's mine."

"And what? The crown is yours now, too?"

"Yes." Without another second to waste, you lifted your sword and plunged it into Spyros' stomach before he could blink. His sword slipped through this fingers in shock. A flicker of remorse flashed through your eyes. "No hard feelings, but I need to go home."

You ripped your sword from his skin, looking away andletting him fall to the ground. A few moments later, the cannon sounded ,and you knew he was dead. 

A sigh left your lips. Twenty-two down.

One to go.

You shook yourself out of your reverie, shaking your head as if you could still feel the blood on your skin. Blood seemed to consume your thoughts. Theirs. Yours.

No more.

"No more innocent blood," you whispered to yourself. It was funny, almost. You could remember wanting to win so badly, and then as soon as you got out, you wished you let Spyros kill you. If you did, you wouldn't be living with this guilt. You would've never been sold, you would've never gone through what you went through at the Capitol. And you would've never met Finnick, either.

But you couldn't decide if that's really what you wanted.

With one more deep breath, you walked out of the hovercraft, dragging your feet that felt like boulders and forcing yourself to go forward. The cold air of the Capitol hit you like nothing else, as if knives were biting into your skin, but you'd felt worse.

No one recognized you immediately, but soon, murmurs followed. You kept your eyes on the ground. "That's her," someone whispered. "That's the Princess."

Eventually, the crowd went silent and so you looked up, being met with every face in the area. All eyes were on you.

They were rigid, like statues, until one person got down on one knee. Your eyes darted over to him. Even from so far away, you could see his eyes. You saw admiration, respect, and gratitude, but most of all, you saw hope. He bent his head down, bowing. Suddenly, everyone followed. Men, women, and children collectively got down and bowed.

For you.

Your breath was taken away. You didn't know how to respond, but whatever words you were going to say died on your tongue when Boggs came into your line of sight. 

"Y/N," he greeted, the slightest bit of surprise lacing his stoic voice. "President Coin didn't tell me you'd be meeting us."

"I know," you said, and you said nothing further than that.

You couldn't tell what he was thinking, but after a second, Boggs nodded, softly telling you, "Come on." You followed him wordlessly, meeting Commander Paylor again before she went up on stage.

She was a good speaker, that you could tell, but you weren't truly listening. The crowd clapped and cheered but you were motionless. You could feel Boggs' eyes burning into the side of your head. He must've thought you were crazy, and maybe you were. 

You were fixated on the one thing you'd wanted more than anything else, so it was a bit difficult to pay attention to speeches, no matter how good they were.

After Paylor's speech, you followed Boggs out of the area to where you were stationed. Now that he found you, it only made sense that you'd work together. You could use the ammo, anyway.

You got to your post, still not really focused on anything, but then all of your distraction flew out the window when you saw a head of brown hair, not in a braid but in a ponytail just as similar.

Katniss.

So you weren't the only one with the idea of sneaking out.

"Great minds really do think alike, don't they?"

At the sound of your voice, Katniss turned around and a smile graced her face, and this was one of the few times you'd ever seen the sight. "Y/N," she breathed, and in three strides, she was embracing you in her arms.

You tensed but soon reciprocated the hug, basking in the irony that you once thought you'd never befriend this girl. Yet, now, she was the only one who stood by your side.

You hugged for a few seconds before letting go—both of you could only handle so much affection—but she held onto your shoulders. The smile was still there, but it had dissipated. It wasn't so bright anymore. 

She nodded towards a tent, and you nodded in response.

You needed to talk.

Katniss led you into an empty tent and you both sat down. The time for pleasantries had passed—the gun on your hip and the sword hitting your leg had reminded you of that.

Out of habit, you glanced around the small tent. There wasn't much except for the little she'd laid out, along with her bag, stuffed with food. You nodded to it. "That's more food than I've ever seen you eat before."

She barely looked up. "Tryin' to be prepared-"

You cut her off, humming. "C'mon, Katniss." You shook your head. "Don't insult me."

Finnick was hard to get a read on these days. Johanna wasn't the same, and Peeta barely showed emotion. But if you knew anyone, it was Katniss. You were Katniss. So you already knew what she was planning.

After all, it was the same plan you had.

She finally looked up at you. "I'm gonna be fine, Y/N."

"Of course, you are," you affirmed. "'Cause I'm coming with you."

She sighed, "Y/N-"

"Be smart, Katniss. If you're going off alone, you need backup." You left out the fact that your plan involved no backup, either. "Besides," you added, "you know I want this just as bad as you." Maybe even more.

She stared at you for a few seconds after that, maybe a minute, before she eventually nodded. A sigh of relief left you, but before you could get anything else out, your names were being called.

"Y/L/N, Everdeen." Your eyes went to the woman outside of your tent. "Come meet your new unit."

You got up, crouching under the tiny tent opening and walking out until you were with everyone else, the woman who called you right in front of you. She sized you up with a stony expression.

"I'm Lieutenant Jackson," she introduced herself. Her voice was as emotionless as her face, though you recognized a hint of irritation in her eyes. "And I want to introduce you to your squad." She pointed to each person as she went. "This is Second Lieutenant Mitchell, best sharpshooter in Panem. These are the Leeg sisters, first combat division. And this is Corporal Homes."

You nodded to each of them in greeting, even though Homes and you had already met. Jackson introduced all of them to you, but not you to them; though, you supposed it was unnecessary. By now, everyone in Panem knew your face.

You went to say something, but as a familiar face came into view, you forgot whatever it was in a heartbeat.

Finnick.

Katniss' words echoed your thoughts. She left your side and made her way over to him, but you were frozen in your spot. "Are you with us?" she questioned, her back turned to you but her smile audible in her voice. 

"Looks like it," he responded, wrapping his arms around her. You looked away, feeling the phantom sensation of his arms around you, your feet stepping synchronously with the song that was back playing in your ears.

Love? You think you love me?

Yes, Y/N, I love you.

Involuntarily, your eyes travelled back to them only to see blue eyes already pointed your way. Your mind shouted at you to look away, but your eyes couldn't follow the instruction. This was your first time looking at him without tears filling your eyes.

And, God, was he beautiful.

Was it his face that shocked you or was it his presence? Was it your history or the chapter you were in right now? Did it matter?

All of the questions you had went unanswered as Boggs entered the canopy. "Gather round," he ordered, forcing you to peel your eyes away. Your unfortunate love affair would have to wait.

If you could even call it that.

"Squad 451, you're my unit." He looked around at you, the so-called 'best of the best.' And while you were the best, in many ways, you weren't truly put together because of your skills. Katniss had a way with a bow, and you and Gale were next in line in that area. Finnick and you had both mastered close combat. Mitchell was a sharpshooter, and everyone else had miles of experience. But that still wasn't why you were chosen.

He continued, voicing what you already knew. "Each one of you is elite in some form of combat. But we are a non-combat unit, so we'll be following days behind the frontline troops." Katniss and you shared a brief glance.

"You're to be the onscreen faces of invasion. The Star Squad," a woman declared, arms crossed. Cressida, you think her name was. You met her in the Capitol once. She was almost gonna direct a show for you and Finnick, and you thank the heavens every day that it never happened. "It's been decided that you're the most effective when seen by the masses."

It appeared that you and Everdeen weren't the only ones with qualms about this regime. "So we're not gonna fight?" Gale spoke up.

Boggs' reply was swift and prepared. "You'll do whatever you're ordered to do, soldier. It's not your job to ask questions."

He held his tongue and nodded, an affirmation leaving his lips, respectful but clearly reluctant. And why wouldn't he be? You were fighters—all of you. Kids thrown into the arena or the streets. This wasn't about pride, though, so you understood the establishment's point of view on this one.

But it wasn't about pride for you.

It was about revenge.

"Our instructions are to shoot propaganda footage on the battle-scarred streets of the Capitol." Boggs went on to explain that, even though you were a propo team, you were still in the middle of a war zone. "It is likely that we'll encounter both active pods and Peacekeepers." He paused. "You're considered high-value targets to the Capitol." His eyes momentarily darted over to you, making you stiffen. "In the event of capture, you'll be given a nightlock pill." Another pause. "A poison that acts immediately."

You felt Katniss' eyes on you as Jackson passed the pills around, the glare of scissors flashing through your mind, beautiful scissors that never got to kiss your skin.

My hair. It's- I want to cut my hair.

I'll help you.

You took the pill and stowed it away, ignoring her stare. You were thankful for her interruption that day in the bathroom, but you'd gone this far without mentioning it and you'd go a lot farther in the same state. 

As far as you were concerned, that day never happened.

You're not suicidal, your brain whispered, and you vehemently agreed. But if things ended the way you wanted them to, the way the way they were supposed to, then dying wouldn't be too bad.

That nightlock could go a long way.

"Our unit has been given a Holo, a database that contains a detailed map of the Capitol and a list of every known pod." That caught your attention, making you look up at the device he placed on a container, a hologram of the Capitol shooting out with little orange indicators everywhere. "These pods can trigger anything from bombs to traps to mutts. We cannot move without this device. There's no guarantee that our database is complete; there could be new pods that we're not aware of. Because we don't want the Gamemakers to know we have this intel, it has a self-destruct on it. You flip this switch, say nightlock three times, and it blows itself and anything within a ten-foot radius." He paused, making eye contact with each of you and enunciating slowly. "Stay within our unit. Even with the Holo, it is likely that new pods have been set. Whatever they contain, they are meant to kill you."

Fuck. 

You glanced at Katniss to see her already looking your way, clearly thinking the same thing that you were. If you wanted to stay alive long enough to kill President Snow, then you needed that Holo.

Without meaning to, you consequently glanced at Finnick, seeing that childlike glint in his eye that you hadn't seen in ages; albeit, it had no place in war.

But that didn't mean that you didn't miss it.

He leaned towards Katniss and you like nothing had ever happened, making you tense. It was almost like he was playing a game, and you suppose that's exactly what it was because, not a second later, he spoke.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to The 76th Hunger Games."

Explosions went off in the distance that you tried not to be affected by, smoke and rubble surrounding the once pristine Capitol. It almost looked the footage you'd seen of 12—you imagined the other districts were the same. As you stood there and filmed propos, it almost looked like home.

Almost.

You stopped in an abandoned restaurant, sitting down to rest. You didn't really feel like resting, but it was nice to stop and strategize.

Katniss and you sat off to the side, away from everyone else, but you could feel eyes burning into the side of your head, eyes that were likely blue. It took everything in you not to look his way.

"We're not getting across this minefield," you remarked.

Without missing a beat, she replied, "Not without that Holo. And we're not gonna get it off him while he's awake."

You nodded, repressing the urge to glance over at Boggs to avoid suspicion. "Let's make sure we're on the same watch tonight, then."

Allies until you weren't. Same team until the time came.

Just like The Games.

The sound of wheels on rubble made you stand up simultaneously, hand on your weapon in quick succession. "Is that Peacekeepers?" someone said.

Jackson radioed something into base before putting her walkie talkie away and ordering, "Stand down, everyone. It's friendly."

You snorted. Friendly was a nice choice of words. But it made you wonder who could possibly be there that hadn't already shown up. Johanna, maybe, you thought. Then the door opened and the person that walked out wasn't Johanna at all.

Peeta.

Katniss drew an arrow from her quiver automatically, making you press a hand to her shoulder. She held the bow down but kept the arrow; you think that if you hadn't stopped her, she would've shot that arrow instantly—and you didn't know if you could blame her.

That Golden Boy that walked into the Quell never came out, nor did Panem's troublemaker from 7 or the Princess. You were changed. And you were fucked up, you knew that—you didn't need a therapist to tell you that. But you were broken before; Peeta wasn't. 

You could still hear his screams when you closed your eyes, entangling with the beat of the music. You danced to those screams in the Capitol for weeks on end. 

And then they hijacked him. President Snow was the Devil, and he collected Peeta's soul like it was pocket change, turning him against the love of his life. 

You saw what he did to her. She never talked to you about it, but the rings around her neck and red in her eyes were impossible to miss when you came back. 

So, no, you didn't know if you could blame Katniss for wanting to shoot him, but none of you could let her do that. Because, if she shot hijacked Peeta, she'd be shooting the Peeta with a heart of gold, too.

He walked towards you slowly, soldiers behind and around him as you all stood with baited breath. He mumbled something to himself quietly that you couldn't make out, eyes trained on the ground as if wishing it'd swallow him whole.

He walked until he got too close and Katniss pulled back her bowstring. You widened your eyes, whispering, "Katniss-"

"Okay, stop," Gale warned, holding up one hand like he wanted to keep the peace but the other was on his gun, finger on the trigger. How convenient would it be if he finally got a reason to shoot the only other competitor he had? It nearly made you scoff.

"Hold up, everyone relax." You froze at the voice, seeing Finnick walk forward with his arm held out to the rest of you, like he was holding you off. You couldn't spot even the slightest hint of hesitation in his actions.

He continued to walk towards him, even as Boggs ordered Jackson to cuff him. Only then did Katniss lower her bow. You gave her a cautionary glance but didn't say anything more, following her back inside. She kept quiet about you and Finn; the least you could do was offer her the same luxury.

Back in the restaurant, Boggs explained that they wanted to add Peeta to the propo, show Panem that he was on your side now. 

But he wasn't.

You knew that. Katniss knew that. And President Coin certainly knew that, too.

A message to The Mockingjay.

"He's not in control of himself," Gale said, a blank look on his face.

"I say we schedule an around-the-clock watch on him," Jackson proposed, as if Peeta wasn't ten feet away, in perfect earshot of the conversation. "The Leegs 'til 1700, Homes and Mitchell 'til 1900."

Katniss startled you by her quick intrusion. "Give me a watch."

Clearly, the others weren't expecting that either, judging by Jackson's head tilt or the brief flash of emotion in Boggs' impassive demeanour. "And if it really came down to it, you think you could shoot him?"

"I wouldn't be shooting Peeta," she replied, her voice cold as ice. "'Be killing a Capitol mutt."

She didn't mean that. She really didn't. You could still remember how hysterical she was when she thought Peeta died in The Games. She loved him. But he didn't know that. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Peeta's eyes fall to the ground. "I'm not sure that kind of comment recommends you for the job either, soldier."

Boggs cut in, "Put her in the rotation." Jackson looked up at him, then he walked away. There, said and done. Katniss wouldn't have been Katniss if she hadn't followed him outside, but you didn't tag along for the questioning.

You stayed inside, walking away from where you sat with Gale to another area in the building. His thoughts were loud, too loud for your own. Peeta was here now, and that changed a lot for him. It changed a lot for Katniss, too, and you.

Because, now, you were stuck here.

There was no way you'd be leaving now.

You were on your own in a secluded part of the restaurant, thoughts filling your head the way water filled district 4 one summer in your childhood, an unstoppable flood. That flood didn't leave any part of the district unaffected, and now you could feel this flood taking hold of your brain—and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

"C'mon, Y/N. We all know this is a sham. I mean, I've never even seen you speak to Finnick Odair, and now you're dating?"

You rolled your eyes at the Capitol's 'Favourite Son,' your disinterest doing nothing to deter him. Augustus Braun was nothing if not persistent, especially when it involved you. He won the year before you and thus made it his mission to pursue you ever since, so when revealed that you were dating Finnick, it clearly caused a stir.

You tried to brush him off. "I don't know what you want me to say, Augustus. I didn't see it coming either; it just happened."

"It just happened?" he echoed.

"Yeah. I mean, you can't control love." The words sounded so faux coming out of your mouth, even to you. It was times like these when you wished Finnick was here; he was a much better actor.

"That is so bull-"

Another voice interrupted. "Augustus."  You both turned to see Cashmere, one of his mentors, walking toward you, a feline smile on her face. "Leave the lady alone. You know we only fight when The Games are going on."

When The Games are going on, she said. You could be friends all year round, but as soon Reaping Day hit, that camraderie ceased to exist. Regardless, you were never close with victors from 1 and 2. You couldn't really trust anyone that would volunteer for those games just to bring glory to their name.

You had that glory. 

And you would do anyhing to give it back.

"Aw, Cash, I was just talking our princess here," he nudged your shoulder, "about her make-believe relationship." You wanted to punch him.

She laughed. "Oh, but the Princess wouldn't dare lie, Aug. She's too good for that." Some would call the look in her eyes a star's twinkle. You called it a malicious glint hiding in plain-sight. She turned to you. "It's the truth, isn't it, Y/N/N?"

You plastered on a fake smile that looked more annoyed than anything. "Of course, it is. What could I possibly gain from lying?" There it is.

The glint in Cashmere's eyes disappeared. She looked to Braun, but he didn't share her glance. He didn't look any different, but you knew that she got it. Because she knew what you could gain from lying.

All the same things she could gain, too.

So you watched as she put on a smile and defended you. "I believe her." Augustus' groan was loud, but it was inaudible to you as you silently thanked her with your eyes. "Now tell us how you and your prince met."

"Could I get a penny for your thoughts?" A voice broke you out of your trance, a voice you recognized all too soon.

Finnick.

Here he was, trying to talk to you, as if he didn't just let Annie walk away. As if he didn't tell you he loved you. As if he didn't just upend your entire world.

You didn't want to speak to him. You thought you made that clear already, and you did, but he was ignoring that. He wanted to talk to you, so he was gonna talk to you, regardless of your feelings.

You didn't look at him as he walked up to stand next to you, continuing to stare out the window. The destruction outside matched your mental state, grey and ruined, but it was still the Capitol, the same way you were still the Princess.

And he was still the Prince.

The words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. "Do you remember how we said we met?"

You were met with silence, not because he didn't remember but because he did. After a beat, he responded, "I do." You felt his gaze burn into the side of your head.

A humourless chuckle left you, false memories lighting up behind your eyelids as you blinked. Of course, he remembered. He had it memorized just as well as you did—he was the one who came up with the story.

You might've been the storyteller, but Finnick was a better liar than you could ever dream of being. He lied so well for years. So when he goes and tells you something like he loves you, that's all you can remember.

That he was a liar.

"We said that we met in the Capitol," you recalled. You had a reminiscent smile, but your eyes that were trained ahead of you betrayed the façade; you were bitter. "I wasn't watching where I was going; I was nearly hit by a bus, but you pulled me back last minute, saved me." Another laugh. "I was oh so grateful. You told me that you already knew me, that you'd seen me around before and you'd been working up the courage to come speak to me." You shook your head. "And then there: screen fades to black, and the rest was history, right? Love at first sight—God, they loved that, didn't they?"

"Y/N-"

"But it wasn't love at first sight," you cut him off. "It wasn't really love at all."

Finnick went to put his hand on your shoulder but you jolted away, finally turning to look at him. For a moment, it was like looking into a mirror: his eyes were sad, too.

But why? This was his story. Were his own lies getting the best of him?

Yes. They were.

With that realization, your eyes hardened. "We didn't meet that way. We were not in love—there was no love story. This is not a love story, Finnick," you emphasized, stressing every syllable of every word, your voice nearly cracking on his name. You averted your eyes, composing yourself and taking a step back. "So I don't want to speak to you for the rest of the time we're here."

"What? Y/N, I just-"

"Please respect that." Whether he was gonna abide by your wishes or not, you didn't want be stick around to find out.

So you walked away, leaving him there just like every other time it was just the two of you. It was funny, almost—it was always just the two of you, but now you couldn't handle it to be alone with him.

Perhaps that was because you knew you were right. This wasn't a love story. 

It was a tragedy.

And this tragedy wouldn't have a happy ending.

You wondered what it was like to live in the Capitol, to be born into a life where food and shelter was always guaranteed, a life where you could raise children knowing that they wouldn't be taken from you by a slaughter that rich people would call a game.

A normal life.

Those kids went to school and made friends, they fell in love because they wanted to, not for survival. 

You wondered where those kids were now, as their home was turned into a warzone. What were they thinking? Were you the bad guys in their mind? Did they even understand what you were fighting for?

You heard Snow had a granddaughter. You wondered about her, about how she must've felt. And then that caused you to wonder... was evil an inherent trait? Was it like a disease that somebody had to be born with, or was it something that bred over time?

Suddenly, the sound of somebody sitting across from you at the table cut off your train of thought. When you looked up and saw Panem's Golden Boy, you found your answer.

Maybe evil wasn't an inherent trait, but good had to be. Because Peeta Mellark had the most pure heart you'd ever seen, so pure that Snow had to work twice as hard just to taint it, that his love for Katniss was so strong that it persisted—even if he didn't realize it yet.

Good had to be natural.

You had to believe that.

You greeted him softly, but not too soft. "Peeta."

He took a minute before responding, seeming to take in your appearance. "Y/N." Pause. "You look different."

That nearly wrestled a laugh out of you. "So do you," you replied, followed by a quirk of your brow. "But that's not why you're here to talk to me, is it?"

It wasn't.

You had a feeling he'd be coming soon. It was only a matter of time since he arrived. When you got out, the first thing you wanted was to talk to him, too. The only thing that stopped you was the white, locked room that kept him detained.

His room and yours were right next to each other in the Capitol.

That changed things.

You didn't expect him to speak so soon—you certainly couldn't find the words—but before you knew it, he was asking, "How do you do it?" He didn't need to explain further.

How you do this. That's what he was asking.

Peeta had trouble with eye contact since he arrived, but right now, he was looking you right in the eye, awaiting an answer you weren't sure you had—pleading for it. How did you do it? Were you doing it at all?

You wanted to give him the perfect answer, the same answer you were still seeking, but that wouldn't be fair. You didn't want to lie to him.

You were sick of lying.

"Honestly?" you questioned. "I don't know if I even know what I'm doing. Haymitch, uh, he told me I was still standing because I had to fight for the people that couldn't, show that them that they could." You paused, pondering over it. "And that's true. But there's more to it than that. It's not just about them anymore. It's about me, about us. I want-" you intook a deep breath, looking down momentarily. When you looked back up, it was with a new resolution shining in your eyes. "I want to show Snow that he didn't knock me down. And I want to make sure that no other pawn gets knocked down by a king and his crooked version of a game."

You didn't know if that was the answer he was looking for. You didn't know if that would help him—you didn't know if anything would.

But then you saw a look in his eyes, a new light that hadn't been there before, dim but present. It was accompanied by fear, but you could see it. A light shining through all the darkness. 

His voice was quiet. "Do you think we'll ever be free?"

You knew he wasn't talking about the war or the Capitol. He wasn't talking about Snow's hold on all of you. He was talking about the shackles of your own minds.

That took you back to the other blond boy you were accustomed to, his words reverberating through your head. We will never be free, Y/N.

Not long ago, you believed that wholeheartedly. The thought crushed you. You had accepted it as reality, that you were trapped and had nowhere to go, that this was your forever.

But maybe it wasn't.

"Yeah," you replied. "I think so."

You couldn't sleep that night. It would've been better if you had a shift taking watch—that way, you would've at least felt useful, but you didn't. 

You weren't sure if it was a matter of if you couldn't sleep or wouldn't. Every time you tried to close your eyes, you were brought back to places you didn't wanna be, saw things you didn't wanna see.

That's why you were lying on your side, facing the wall instead of the ceiling. It was harder to sleep that way. And it also meant you didn't have to look at Finnick Odair.

You told him you didn't want to speak to him. Meanwhile, you loved him an unimaginable amount, so much so that he consumed your thoughts, even as you were in the middle of a war, hiding out in an abandoned restaurant as the enemy wanted your heads on a platter.

The enemy.

You thought of Coin then, how she sent Peeta here knowing it'd cause chaos, knowing it'd just bring both of the lovers grief.

Wolves liked to masquerade as sheep.

Maybe the enemy was closer than you thought.

In your own thoughts, you didn't even notice the stirring of limbs until a raspy and hushed voice sounded. "Katniss?"

Your immediate reaction was to stiffen, but you quickly stopped yourself from doing anything to give up the fact that you were awake. Because that was Finnick's voice.

He sounded just like that whenever he woke up.

You didn't see the brunette, but you already knew she wasn't sleeping either—though, chances were, she wasn't hiding it. "Yeah?" she muttered.

There was a beat of silence. You wished you could lift your head to see what was going on. It wasn't like Finnick not cut to the chase. Then again, you supposed it also wasn't like him to give spontaneous admissions of love.

Eventually, he got to it. "Do you and Y/N have a plan?" It almost sounded like his voice was filled with genuine curiosity.

Now it was her turn to respond. The turning of her gears was nearly audible to you. She couldn't tell him the truth, that you were really here to kill Snow and not to shoot propos. "Yeah, it's this plan."

There was no pause this time. "That's not what I'm talking about."

"Well, it's what I'm talking about," she bit back.

You knew she had more questions than this. You knew she was wondering why he was asking her and not you, wondering whatever it was that happened between you earlier or even back in 13. 

She had questions.

But out of respect, she would never ask them.

"I'm worried about her." Oh.

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. It seemed that Finnick continued to surprise you with every encounter, even though this wasn't an encounter with you at all. His voice got quieter, but he still spoke with purpose, the same purpose you watched from a video out of a box where he exposed Snow for the monster that he is.

He always did have a way with words.

You just weren't used to hearing those words about you. Not without a camera shoved in his face or eyes glued to your forms.

"Y/N?" she asked, even though she knew who it was. "Don't be. She's the strongest person I've ever met." Oh.

Katniss defended you without a second thought, and for some reason, that was surprising. It shouldn't have been, but it was. You weren't used to friends or people to coming to your defense. Johanna was one of your closest friends, but you weren't with her enough to ever get used to it. Katniss, on the other hand, was someone you felt like you'd known your whole life.

Maybe because you had.

"I know that," he responded, almost offended she'd think he didn't. "Her strength is incredible- enviable, even." Pause. "But I still worry about her." Another pause. "If anything happened to her, I- I don't know what I'd do." 

Your breath hitched.

I said I love you.

Katniss must've been thinking of what to respond but Finnick barely gave her a chance. "Just- look out for her for me, okay- and I'll do the same for you." There was another pause, and then a shuffle, and then silence. "I have your guy. And you have mine."

It was a wonder you didn't make a sound.

A few seconds passed by, then she agreed. "Deal."

And when you got up a couple hours later after no sleep, you pretended the conversation never happened.

The team was walking around looking for a good spot to film when your first pod was found. 

"Split. Take cover," Boggs ordered. You did as he said, retreating to the right pillar with Katniss, Gale, and Cressida as he threw a random rock into the walkway. Immediately, shots went off, loud and repeated.

You ducked your head into your knees, covering your ear with one hand while clutching onto your bow tightly. They're not people; they're just guns wired to go off, you reassured yourself. Somehow the thought of real people was scarier.

And that thought was scary in and of itself.

The guns went off until they knocked down a structure ahead of you yet you were still wary, even when Boggs gave the okay. "All clear. Gale, Homes, with me. Leegs, take the wings."

You slowly stood up, now holding onto the arrow with both hands just so your hands wouldn't shake. Katniss shot you a look, not needing to speak. You okay?

You nodded, sending her one of the same nature. What about you?

She nodded back. And even though neither of you were entirely convinced, you both still dropped it.

When you turned to your left, you saw Peeta still on the ground, empty rifle in hand, hitting his head against the butt and mumbling to himself under his breath. He sounded like a madman. That's when you turned to Katniss again.

For a second, she almost looked like she was gonna go over there.

And then a bomb went off.

You jumped, nearly losing your grip on your weapon. Katniss went running despite Jackson's call of her name. You wanted to follow her but it was like you her cemented to your spot. Your eyes were stuck on the floor, ears ringing.

Please, please- no- no!

You harshly shook your head as if it'd shake the thoughts out of your head, and then you booked it in the same direction, ignoring Jackson's protest. 

Turned out that you'd only spent a few seconds losing it. You crouched down next to Katniss while Gale went straight to look at his legs. You didn't look get a good look at them—you tried not to—but you didn't think they were even there anymore.

"It's okay," Katniss muttered, even though she knew it wasn't the truth.

He's gonna die, you realized.

Boggs realized this, too. "The Holo," he croaked. "The Holo."

You widened your eyes, going to grab it while Katniss held his hand. He pressed some buttons and used all of his strength to tilt himself upward, panting, "Unfit for command. Transfer- primary security clearance-" He looked to you, eyes wild yet resolved. "Say your name."

If you thought your eyes couldn't get any wider, you were wrong. But you didn't have time to question this decision or get him to explain his choice, so you spoke without realizing what was happening. "Y/N Y/L/N." Your breathing got faster. "What did you just do?"

He didn't answer you, just looked at you with the strongest stare a dying man could muster. "Y/N, don't trust them-" his eyes darted to Katniss, "n-neither of you. Kill Peeta if you have to. Do what you have to do." He stopped talking then, but his eyes were still open.

"Boggs?" No response. 

You tried. "Boggs?" No response, either.

He was dead.

Katniss gently set his head down. You just stared at him, taking shallow breaths.

He was dead.

Homes was still trying to triage his wounds—he didn't even realize it until Gale said the words out loud. "He's gone." It was almost compulsive of him to repeat it. "He's gone."

There was a collective moment of silence. Boggs was willing to put his life on the line for this revolution, and he did it. Now he was dead.

Weren't you all just dead people walking? Soldiers, just waiting to fall into your own carefully curated traps. And perhaps that was exactly why you were so okay with it.

A part of you knew you were already dead.

In the silence, groaning suddenly became audible to you. With a slight turn, you saw it was one of the Leegs. The blast hit her, too. When the other Leeg saw, she immediately got up and went to tend to her sister, but on her way, she stepped on a tile that sunk down on her weight. Her eyes went wide, but it was too late. 

Immediately, large gates that you didn't even know were there started to close in on the areas between buildings, effectively encasing you in the courtyard. In the blink of an eye, oily black tar was flooding down, billowing between the buildings.

Someone screamed. "Go, go, go!"

You took off running, the others not far behind you. Gamemakers were creative. You didn't know what that was, but you knew that if it didn't obliterate you first, it'd drown you.

You were running to higher ground, Katniss right next to you when you saw her being yanked away out of your periphery. You spun around to see her on the ground, just barely rolling out of the way as Peeta slammed his rifle down on the ground in a flurry of rage.

"Finnick!" she yelled, but someone else got there first, tackling Peeta to the ground before he could try hitting her again. You were there right after, pulling her off the ground and then holding her back from running into the sludge when Peeta pushed Mitchell in.

A net shot out of the ground with his body in it. Finnick came rushing before Peeta could come back to finish his task, holding him back.

"Come on, come on, Katniss, we gotta go!" You pulled her out of the way before the tar came crashing into you, running for the closest building.

Homes shot down the door. "Everybody, inside! Go! Upstairs! Go! Hurry up!"

You all went running up either flight of stairs, stopping in the middle just to see that the lower and upper half had been disconnected. You were stuck. And tar was filling downstairs at a speedy rate.

"Shit," you cursed.

You ran a stressed hand through your hair. On your right, one of the Leegs was moaning in pain, and on your left, Finnick was trying to calm Peeta down, holding him tightly. You looked away when he ended up pressing a needle into his neck, swallowing.

Now's not the time for memories, Y/N.

The tar continued to fill the building, making a bubbly sound that made you feel nauseous. "It's slowing down," Cressida noted. 

And she was right. It stopped just before hitting your landing, rippling at the stairs. You let out a sigh.

"Gamemakers are still putting on quite a show," she remarked.

"That they are," you mumbled—though, you were unsure it was loud enough for her to hear you.

Meanwhile, Jackson radioed in. "451 to base. Over."

"Hey, we better move," Homes cut in. "If Peacekeepers didn't know where we were, they do now. Those surveillance cameras caught us."

She just radioed again while you looked down at the Holo in your hand. "451 to base. Come in."

It was Gale speaking up now. "This is a bad spot. We need to move now."

"451 to base. Over." Jackson got frustrated, flipping her radio shut. "I can't get a signal," she said. "But I can get us back to base. Y/L/N, give me the Holo."

For a second, you didn't even know she was talking to you. Whether it be the shock or just the fact that she had barely spoken to you this entire time, it didn't register. When it did, you met her eyes looking at you expectantly. "Y/L/N, what did I just say? The Holo. Come on, let's go."

Boggs' words resounded in your head as all eyes turned to you. Don't trust them.

Your grip on the Holo got tighter. You didn't break eye contact as you told her, "Boggs gave it to me."

Jackson paused her movements, stopping to give you her full attention. "What are you talking about?"

Katniss backed you up, stepping forward and closer to you at the same time. "He did. He transferred Y/L/N his security clearance. Homes, Gale, and I saw it."

Jackson's gaze was unwavering, her voice colder. "And why would he do that?"

You were a great liar. When you were younger, you wanted to be a storyteller, so it made sense when you grew up to spin lies like clockwork. A liar, an actor, a victor, a dancer. You came up with a lie quickly. "I'm on special orders from Coin."

You maintained her stare as she questioned, "To do what?"

"To assassinate President Snow for all of Panem to see." 

It wasn't too far-fetched of a lie, but you had a feeling that no matter what lie you gave, Jackson wouldn't have believed it anyway. 

"I don't believe that for one second," she deadpanned. "As your new unit commander, I order you to transfer security clearance to me. Now."

Allies could only last so long before survival and power came into play, and you were in the Capitol. Power was the only thing that was important here. But this wasn't about power. 

This was about the people.

You weren't gonna let anything or anyone get in your way.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to The 76th Hunger Games.

You kept your voice soft as you asserted, "I apologize, Lieutenant Jackson, but I cannot and will not do that."

Jackson stared at you for a second, almost like she was challenging you to redact your statement. When you didn't, she reached for her side. Guns were immediately drawn before she even pulled hers.

You were staring down a barrel as Katniss, Finnick, and Gale had their weapons pointed at her. One of the Leegs had a gun pointed their way, too, while everyone else just stayed still, glancing between you.

It almost surprised you when Finnick was the first to speak, and you didn't know why. "Woah, now," he warned. You could hear the smirk on his face in his words, so similar to that dangerous boy in The Games who laughed at any obstacle. "Let's not be too hasty."

Jackson ignored him, doubling down. "I'm not asking you again, Y/L/N." Her glare was menacing. "Give me that Holo."

She may have shot you then and there when she saw you weren't gonna cooperate, but before you could find out, Cressida was stepping in front of you. "She's telling the truth." What? 

She continued, "Plutarch wants it televised. He thinks if we could film the Princess assassinating Snow, it'll make the Capitol surrender before the casualties get too high."

"Look, while we're in here pointlessly arguing, there's 100 Peacekeepers on their way here right now to confirm that we're dead." Finnick's voice was rugged as he cut in, impatient. But only you could detect the undertone of worry.

Jackson seemed swayed but not swayed enough. Her grip on her gun didn't falter. You had to say something before there was a bullet in your skull and this was all for nothing. This couldn't all be for nothing.

"Boggs wanted this," you pressed. "And he wanted to help me."

You saw the waver in her eyes despite the gun still raised for your head, and you knew you got to her. You maintained her stare, silently pleading that she'd put it down. Eventually, she did.

You let out a short breath you didn't know you were holding. Jackson looked down, and then she nodded. "Alright, soldier." She looked back up at you. "Holo's yours."

You nodded back to her in thanks. The tension in the air didn't fully dissipate, but the guns had all now been lowered. Gale went for the stairs, cautiously stepping down on the first step to see nothing happen. In the time you were arguing, it appeared that the sludge had dried.

He turned back to the rest of you. "I don't think we're gonna leave any footprints. We should move now. And those cameras outside should be covered up the oil."

From next to the Leeg in the corner, Castor interjected, "She can't move forward like this. Her leg is too bad. We have to evacuate her." She hissed and whimpered as he spoke. Then he realized what words lingered in the air, the conclusion you all had reached but didn't want to voice. 

You had to leave her here.

At the realization, an apology was tumbling out of his mouth, but the girl's sister cut him off. "I'll stay with her."

Jackson reassured her, "As soon as we make contact, we will send somebody back. I promise you." Katniss' stare was so intense you could almost feel her thoughts.

If we make contact.

"Alright, everybody move out. Let's go!"

Any guilt you had for leaving the Leegs there had to be diminished; you had to focus. You and Katniss moved out side by side. In the background, you heard Finnick asking Peeta if he could walk.

Gale was right; the cameras outside were completely shielded by the tar. It had dried up everywhere like frozen ice—your own little winter wonderland. Except, in this wonderland, you had nightlock instead of potions that made you grew taller, guns instead of playing cards, and the mad hatter was a ruthless dictator trying to kill you all.

What odd music you had in wonderland.

But you danced anyway.

The net with Mitchell's body hung over you like a cloud, but none of you had time to pause and pay your respects. Gale and Jackson led the flock. You got far enough away from the building you were in to another in the same vicinity.

He shattered the glass with the butt off his crossbow. He and Jackson went running in first, checking the place to see if it was empty. Your immediate task was closing the curtains, but once you turned around you were stunned by the house's sheer beauty.

It wasn't a family home—you could tell, but it was so big for one person. Holographic walls, a decor mirror, a lavish velvet couch and matching armchairs surrounding a block television protruding out of the ceiling.

Not even your house in Victor's Village had been so luxurious. Even the curtains looked like they cost a year's salary from back home.

"Wow," a voice drawled. "Well, didn't we get lucky?"

Finnick's sarcasm was so familiar you went to roll your eyes, but the sound of tires on the ground cut you off in motion. Your guard flew back up as you discreetly peeked out the window.

Peacekeepers. Dozens of them. Big cars, too. All of them armed, and all of them going for the building you were just in.

You didn't have time to make the connection. They just started firing.

Oh, God.

Finnick's voice was now devoid of anything unserious. "It's the Leegs."

Oh, God.

Those shots might've been enough to kill them. But if they weren't, then the missile they launched certainly was.

The building came tumbling down, falling to pieces as you all simultaneously fell, too, crouching down. You felt your heartbeat strong, rattling against your ribcage, hearing it beat in your ears, mingling with the beat of the music.

As soon as we make contact, we will send somebody back.

That was a lie.

They were dead.

You weren't even sitting with information for a minute before a beep sounded, followed by the fanfare. Slowly, your head lifted. 

MANDATORY VIEWING. ATTENTION ALL PANEM RESIDENTS, the screen read. Soon, the blue sreen faded into Caesar Flickerman, and you were clenching your jaw, white hot anger running through your veins and electrifying every part of your body.

"You've got to be fu-"

"Good afternoon, I'm Caesar Flickerman," he cut Finnick off, resulting in a scoff. You could imagine him rolling his eyes, too. "Here with our continuing coverage of the defense of the Capitol." Now you rolled your eyes.

Every single word Caesar spoke was complete and utter propaganda bullshit. You wished now that you would've decked him when you had the chance, given him the finger and told him to go poke and prod in someone else's life.

He was nothing more than a mutt at Snow's disposal.

"Today, as our Peacekeepers valiantly hold off the rebels, our story... takes a surprising twist."

Following his statement, footage of all of you played from when you were running away from the oil. "Y/N Y/L/N, the girl we once deemed our Princess, and Katniss Everdeen, our once favourite daughter, have now infiltrated the city with some of the victors, whose names are all too familiar." You rolled your eyes again at Caesar's deliberate pacing and dramatic word choice. 

This was the man who once nearly praised you on a daily basis. He's the one that made that God awful nickname stick. Yet here he was now, turning his back on a group of people he once claimed to cherish.

Had you become too human for his liking?

"Finnick Odair and Peeta Mellark." He emphasized Peeta's name with careful precision, just as he came on screen, pushing Katniss to the side and trying to bludgeon her to death. You intook a sharp breath, glancing to Katniss first; she was already looking at Peeta. Her eyes were now more betrayed, like seeing it on TV was different, and his eyes were still glued to the screen, like he couldn't even believe he did it.

"Hm. Clearly, some alliances don't last forever."

Katniss' eyes slowly flickered away, and without really thinking about it, you grabbed onto her hand, squeezing it tightly just to show her you were there. She surprised you by squeezing back with the same force.

Caesar's voice suddenly got more smug. "Take a look at what happened just a moment ago, when our Peacekeepers cornered the former Princess and her band of foolish rebels. Whatever arrogance brought this treacherous girl back to us, you are about to witness a great victory, not only for the Capitol, but for Panem."

Video of the destruction from across the street played onscreen. You watched yourselves supposedly go up in flames.

Supposedly, you were dead.

"So there you have it. Y/N Y/L/N, Panem's Princess, a girl who inspired so much violence, seems to have met a violent end herself." A light chuckle escaped you against your will. You were dead? "Stay tuned for more information. Caesar Flickerman. Thank you."

Caesar ended with a smile that was so creepy it was comical. You felt like laughing again, but decided that propbably wasn't appropriate. Jackson didn't like you very much as it was, likely because of the title Caesar so eloquently gave you.

Royalty. You didn't feel so royal lying in sheets with men old enough to father you, men that were fathers.

Somehow, you didn't feel so royal lying on a cold metal slab, either

"So now that we're dead, what are we gonna do?" Gale questioned.

Peeta spoke up. "Isn't it obvious?" All eyes turned to him. No one had expected him to speak—it was his first attempt since nearly killing Katniss and actually killing Mitchell. "The next move is to kill me."

Katniss took a step forward, but you don't think it was concious. You don't think anything about what she felt toward that boy was conscious.

His voice was wrought with guilt. "I murdered one of our squad members." He paused as if trying to come to terms with it. It was the first time any of you had even acknowledged it. "Katniss is right. I'm a mutt. And it's only a matter of time before I snap again." They made eye contact for a second until he broke it, looking away. "I'm not in control. I need a nightlock pill, so I can die when I need to."

Gale's interruption was sharp and honest. "If it gets to that point, I'll kill you myself." You got the feeling he'd do it regardless.

His admission sliced through the room. He got up moments after, walking to somewhere else in the large townhouse. It was really so big that you didn't understand how it could still be called a townhouse. Kids back home would call this mansion.

You didn't let Gale get lost in it, though, standing up and following him to the kitchen. He entered the pantry; you were right behind him, closing the door.

You narrowed your eyes. His face was impassive but you could see the slighest bit of surprise in his eyes. That just pissed you off even more.

From the moment you met Gale Hawthorne, something didn't feel right. It wasn't that he was a bad man, just that you knew he'd be willing to do bad things for a chance of the right outcome. And you could understand that—you understood him most of the time, but that was out of line.

So you told him that. "You didn't need to say that to Peeta. Not like that." 

He scoffed. "I said what needed to be said. No one else would-"

"You twisted the knife, Gale!" you loudly whispered, eyes now narrowing into slits. "It's called compassion—try it."

"You heard him, Y/N—he's a mutt," he argued, not bothering to match your low volume and throwing his arm out, nearly knocking over a box of cereal in the process. "What kind of compassion does he deserve?"

At that, you took a step closer to him. "You have no idea what it's like." You pointed your finger in his face, consumed by anger. Anger for Peeta, for that boy you saw on TV with Finnick who was willing to kill himself for The Girl on Fire. For the boy who was nervous to meet you. For the boy whose screams you heard for nights on end. A fire burned in your eyes, a fuse now lit that couldn't be contained. "It was hell here. Peeta, Johanna, and I went through hell. You can't expect him to be all fine and dandy after that. And I know how you feel about Katniss, I do. I care about her, too, Gale—she's my person, and so as her person, I am telling you that knocking out the competition won't score you any points with her. Let her come to the decision herself." You went to turn but then added, "And leave Peeta alone."

You didn't want to see the guilt painted all over his face after that, opening the door and leaving him in the pantry by himself.

You weren't excusing what Peeta did, but you knew that he needed time. He needed the time to find himself again. He wasn't the same person. And neither you were you.

You may not have known it, but you needed to find yourself again, too.

The lot of you sat in the living room of the house for some time, waiting it out until it was safe to move. Until then, you ate marshmallows and other little treats stashed in this person's home.

You eat like this, you'll believe anything, Gale had said, and you thought he was right. If you lived like this, grew up like this and were born into this life of opportunity and opulence, then you were sure that you'd believe almost anything, too.

But genocide? you wondered. Perhaps the sun shines brighter here.

Perhaps it blinded them.

Suddenly, the fanfare started, making you all look up to the TV to see the Capitol logo fade into faces—your faces. A showcase of your deaths, like you were fallen tributes.

Finnick's face came onscreen. You heard his snicker from somewhere in the room. Then came you. You shook your head at the ridiculousness of it all.

Didn't they know? You were still dancing.

You'd be dancing until your song ended with Snow's dying breath.

After Peeta and Katniss' pictures played, the montage transitioned into Snow's face. An involuntary shiver overtook your body.

You heard his voice before he even started speaking.

Oh, sweet girl. I will make you wish that you died in that arena.

"So, Y/N Y/L/N, a girl we gave the world, a disgrace to our nation, is now dead. And Katniss Everdeen, a poor unstable girl with nothing but a small talent with a bow and arrow, joins her in the ground." He sounded pleased of himself. "Neither of them thinkers, nor leaders. Simply faces, plucked from the masses—a silly girl with a crown and a deranged one with a song."

You scoffed at the smugness in his tone. A silly girl with a crown. It was funny that you weren't laughing.

"Were they valuable? They were extremely valuable to your... rebellion. Because you have no vision, no true leader among you," he lectured. "You call yourself an alliance. But we saw what that means. Your soldiers are at each other's throats-"

Snow was cut off from his rant by random glitching. Not random, you realized. Your lips curved upward just the smallest bit. Beetee.

Alma's face graced the screen, replacing Snow. "Good evening," she greeted. "For those of you who don't know me, please allow me to introduce myself. I am President Alma Coin, leader of the rebellion. I have interrupted a broadcast from your president in which he attempted to defame two incredibly brave young women." She paused, collecting herself. "'Faces, picked from masses,' he called them. As if any leader, a true leader, could be anything else."

The emotion and conviction in her voice nearly made you believe she actually liked you. "I had the privilege of knowing a small-town girl from the Seam in district 12, and a girl from the water in district 4, both of whom survived the Hunger Games and the Quarter Quell—and rose up and turned a nation of slaves into an army." Her voice raised at the end; she sounded like she might cry. "Dead or alive, Y/N Y/L/N and Katniss Everdeen will remain the faces of this revolution. They will not have died for nothing."

From the seat beside you, Katniss muttered under her breath, "I had no idea I meant so much to her."

You huffed a barely-there chuckle. "Me neither."

Coin continued, "Their vision and ours will be realized. A free Panem, with self-determination for all. And in their memory, we will all find the strength to rid Panem of its oppressors." She took a breath. "Thank you. And be safe."

The screen then faded to pictures of you and Katniss, a whistle playing in the background. It was from The 74th Games—it belonged to a girl named Rue, you think. You could remember watching her hide away from everyone in training, knowing that she wouldn't last.

A 12-year-old girl, sent into the arena to die.

That thought spurred you into drive. You got up. "Snow is in his mansion," you said. "Where is that?" You placed the Holo down on the coffee table, pressing a button and watching it illuminate with the Capitol's hologram.

The others gathered around you. Cressida pointed to spots on the map, informing you, "That's us. That's the City Circle. It's at least, 70- 75 blocks north."

That appeared to catch Finnick's attention. "75 blocks?"

Without thinking about it, you responded, "Nobody knows we're alive. This is our chance." Your eyes met his, and just then did you realize that you were talking to him. You quickly averted your gaze, switching the topic. "These buildings," you pointed, "Do these look over Snow's gardens?"

Cressida was unsure. "I..."

"They do," Castor replied.

"Well, if he goes outside at all, we could get a clear shot." You glanced to Katniss who nodded back to you. It was undecided between the two of you who'd get to deliver the final blow. You wanted to, so badly, but if there was anyone who deserved it just as much, it was her.

When the time came, you'd decide.

"We're getting ahead of ourselves here. Whether they're looking for us or not, we are pinned down," Jackson cut in, subsequently instructing you to hit the middle button to scan for pods.

When the map lit up, you sighed. "That's just about every ten steps."

"Yeah, and that doesn't even show the new ones," Gale reminded you.

Finnick's voice was tired. "So we can't go anywhere in the streets."

"And the rooftops are just as bad," Jackson added.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Pollux tap Castor, pointing his finger down. Realization dawned upon his face. "There might be another way."

Tunnels.

Unanimously, it was decided that you'd take Pollux's suggestion. He said he knew the tunnels well, and it was a good way for you guys to go undetected.

So you packed up what little you had, strapping yourself with weapons, and grabbing the Holo. And just as quickly as you all were there, you were gone, slipping into the night.

The tunnels were huge and spacious. It was surprising that you'd never been down there once, that there were still so many parts of the Capitol you hadn't seen. It didn't feel that way after sleeping in so many Capitol beds.

If that could be called sleeping.

You walked with the Holo in hand, navigating your way through. Everything was fine until you heard the sound of a train's engine. 

Like lightning, you all ran to the side, hiding behind the wall and out of the train's sight. You exhaled once it passed. You could only pray it didn't catch a glimpse of you.

But prayers couldn't be enough. You turned to Pollux. "We're too exposed here."

He nodded then gestured forward with his hand. You let him take lead, following him to a door. The door opened to another ladder that you went down without further question.

It was darker, and there was half-dried up liquid all over the floor, but one quick check of the Holo told you that this place was clear. For the time being, at least.

Smoke went off in one of the hallways that spooked you, but it was fine once you realized that it was just normal smoke. You could still remember that smoke from the Quell, how it felt as it licked your skin.

But you're fine, Y/N. You're not there anymore.

You willed yourself to believe this was a war, not a game. 

You refused to be someone's chess piece any longer.

You eventually came across a little tunnel where Jackson suggested you rest, electing herself to take first watch.

You sat down, glancing at Finnick and looking away before he could notice. Your eyelids got heavier. It'd been nearly two days since you last slept.

You were tired.

No, you were exhausted.

Unknowingly, your eyelids started to droop shut. It wouldn't hurt to get a few hours of shut-eye, you reasoned. You needed to be sharp for what lied ahead of you.

So, within a matter of seconds, you drifted into an abyss of nothingness.

"Y/N, my dear, it is so lovely to see you again."

A smile was etched onto your face, like you were a puppet and the puppeteer that stood before you controlled your every move. The puppeteer made you extend your hand and shake his own. He pulled at your strings and got you to sit at the chair in front of his bureau.

Then he forced your mouth to open, spilling rehearsed pleasantries that you didn't actually mean. "President Snow, it is always a pleasure."

It wasn't. Nothing about meeting Snow in his office was pleasurable to you.

He sat in his red chair that was akin to a throne, higher than you. It was a reminder—a reminder that, even though you had won your Games, and even though you now basked in riches and fame, you were still beneath him. You were still beneath every person in the Capitol you would ever meet, and he sought to make sure you'd never forget it.

"Pleasure," he repeated. "That's an interesting word, isn't it?"

You furrowed your brows, unsure of what he was getting at. "I... I suppose so."

He hummed and just took to staring at you. Was his goal to make you squirm under his gaze? You were certain it was, but you didn't. You kept your cool and maintained his stare. Whatever President Snow called you in for, you were determined to show you could handle it.

You wanted him to like you.

And what a mistake that was.

"Y/N, I am sure that, by now, you've been made aware of the... infatuation people have with you," he started, tilting his head like it was a question. It wasn't, but he did expect a response.

"Yes, I've heard chatter."

He tilted his head again, feigning interest. "What kind of chatter, dear?"

You swallowed. What did he want you to say? Somehow, it felt like no matter what your answer was, this was a trap. "I- people liked my performance, they like my personality. They think... they think that I'm-"

He cut you off, "Captivating? Note-worthy? Attractive?" His last adjective elicited another swallow from you. The word sounded slimy coming out of his mouth. "All-encompassing, Y/N, you are desirable."

Trap. This was a trap. Still, you questioned, "Desirable? What does- what does that mean?"

He didn't answer you, going back to his stare from earlier, but this time it spoke to you. You know what it means, his eyes read. But you didn't. You didn't want to.

You were regretting coming here. You wanted to go back home to lie in your bed, curl yourself up in the covers you never had as a child and sleep. You had a doctor now, one you could afford, that prescribed you medication just to sleep; you wanted to use it right about now.

Then Snow made you wish you had just downed the whole bottle when you had the chance.

"I have a deal for you."

A deal with the devil.

And soon enough, you were stuck dancing his dance 'til the end of time.

"Y/N." 

You were shaken out of your dream by someone tapping your knee. Your eyes fluttered open to see Jackson crouched down in front of you. "It's your watch," she informed you.

You nodded, masking how thrown off you were by standing up, moving to go sit toward the opening. Your legs felt shaky against the ground, but you willed them to move.

You ended up sitting across from Peeta. Finnick was right next to him, his head lulled forward, eyes closed. Good, you thought, they both deserved the sleep.

Finnick always had trouble sleeping in high-stress situations. He had trouble sleeping regardless, sometimes more than you. You caught him awake more times that you could count, nursing a glass of something strong and staring at nothing instead of trying to sleep.

You should've known this time would be no different.

You were staring at the opening when you heard his voice. "Y/N?"

Instantly, your head snapped toward his. His head was upright now, no longer lulled over, and his eyes weren't closed—they were trained on you. A shaky breath left you, from being either startled or frustrated.

Why can't he ever leave well enough alone?

You opened your mouth to reiterate what you already told him, but he was faster. "I know." He paused, staring at you in that way you hated. His voice was quieter now. "I know. You don't wanna talk to me."

"So then why?" you asked, pleading for him to tell you the truth. "Why do you keep doing it?" Why did he insist on continually hurting you?

You were already in love with him. He already had your heart in the palm of his hand, so why did he feel the need to crush it?

It was already broken.

There was something about Finnick's expression you couldn't decipher, something that almost looked pained, and that pained you, too. For a moment, you almost thought you were spared, that he'd pretend to go back to sleep and you'd pretend to believe it, just like old times.

But when was the universe ever so kind to you?

"I do remember the night we met," he revealed. His eyes were sincere; you wanted to look away, but yours were locked on his. The two of you had never talked about this before. "The- the real night. But that wasn't the first time I saw you." He paused, swallowing. "I saw you win. I saw you back home. I saw you in the Capitol dozens of times, but- that night... I don't know what changed. You always looked beautiful, but that night you looked like an angel, Y/N." Your throat tightened, water welling up in your eyes. And then he went in a different direction. "But you were drinking. You looked... sad. And I- I wondered to myself, how could such a beautiful girl be so sad?"

You had to cut him off. "Finnick-"

"So I went up to you," he continued, ignoring your protest. "I had to. Something pulled me to you like a- like a magnet. And up close, you didn't just look like an angel anymore—I saw a goddess. A goddess whose voice dripped of all things sweet and bitter at the same time." He sounded breathless, his eyes glazed over like he was reliving the memory just as you were. "You enchanted me, Y/N."

You were speechless. You didn't know if you could speak even if you had the words. It was almost certain that, if you spoke, you'd cry.

Not once did he look away. Not once. God, he looked like he meant it. And that just made it hurt all the more.

"That was the night we met," he affirmed. "I remember the pretend, but the pretend isn't what I thought about while you were gone. What I remember best isn't the pretend." His gaze got heavier. "It's everything real that we had."

Real.

This felt real. And the tear that raced down your cheek felt real. The hoarseness in his voice felt real. The weight on your chest felt so real that you almost thought you were suffocating.

Do you want this to be real, Y/N?

Yes, of course, you did. A part of you did.

But did you really?

If this was real, would that make the pain easier to manage?

You didn't get to finish that thought. You didn't get to respond. There was a thud far off, something dropping in the water that caught your attention.

Simultaneously, both yours and Finnick's heads turned to the opening. It was complete and utter darkness—there was nothing there.

Then another drop. That made you brace your bow, your other hand going to wipe your cheek. Your eyes suddenly felt much drier.

Finnick got up before you could, going to the opening. You shot upward right after. "Finnick."

He held back two fingers without turning around. "Hold on. Just let me check it out."

You didn't listen, following him into the cavelike tunnel with the Holo turned on. It began chiming immediately, but the light you shined everywhere didn't pick anything up but dirty walls.

If you listened hard enough, it was almost as if you could hear your own name being whispered and bounced off the walls, drawn out purposefully.

You tilted your head and closed your eyes, focusing on the sounds entirely. Water droplets and Finnick's footsteps could be heard, your own breathing, and then you heard it again.

Y-Y-Y/N.

Your eyes flew wide open. "Do you hear that?"

Finnick turned to you but then a shuffle from back inside the tunnel interrupted whatever he was going to say. 

"Katniss."

Both of you turned back to see Peeta waking up, the others not very far behind him.

Jackson, who you couldn't see, questioned, "What is that?

Peeta came to the answer faster than either of you, rushing, "We gotta go. We gotta get outta here now."

"Keep your voice down-"

"Mutts! They released mutts!"

Shit. You quickly re-entered the tunnel. "Pollux, what's the fastest way out?"

Without another word, Pollux was up and leading the way. Gale stood next to him, shooting an incendiary down the path before you went down. 

Fire. Clear. It was safe to continue. You walked slowly, Jackson covering the back.

There was another tunnel on your left. Fire. Clear. Nothing.

On your right was a much more narrow tunnel, ending in a very small opening. The rest of you lit up the way while Pollux crawled in. Nobody spoke as he checked the area. It was silent except for your laboured breaths.

Then you couldn't even hear that. Your breath hitched as he went out of your view. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10-

Ten seconds. Ten seconds and then he was back. You exhaled as he came back into sight, signalling that it was clear to come in. 

Gale and Katniss went first. Then you, then Finnick, Peeta, and the others. Jackson was the last to come in. She shined her flashlight on the path you came from until she decided it was okay to enter.

As soon as she put her flashlight down, your stomach dropped.

No-

Jackson spun around, revealing dozens of mutts with pale, slimy skin and grizzly teeth. They didn't have eyes, but you saw their claws as they took her to the ground.

You gasped. Katniss immediately drew an arrow and shot at the opening, launching an explosion that sent you both backward into the water.

"Go! Go! Go! It's mutts!"

You took the hand that was outstretched to you without even looking at who it belonged to, and in a flash, you were up and running. Peeta screamed, "Pollux, lead us out of here!"

You ran like hell, but the mutts caught up to you. Briefly, it registered to you that there could've been tens and tens more.

One knocked Castor into the water behind you, leaving Cressida to scream his name. You barely noticed Finnick shooting one at your side as you knelt down, drawing an arrow and shooting, lighting them up like candles.

But Castor was still there. He was screaming. 

"Y/N, come on, move!" 

Finnick shook you out of your stupor, grabbing you and practically dragging you upward. That removed you from your trance, sending you running.

You were going straight until another horde of mutts came your direction, forcing you to turn to the tunnel on the left. They're coming from all sides.

You stopped as you ran into a larger area, spinning around and firing another explosive arrow into the tunnel you just came through. There was a ladder here—you just had to fend them off long enough to get there.

Katniss and you stayed on the ground, firing arrows left and right, trying to stop them from getting inside. She turned and one jumped down at her, leading you to shoot at it. She shot one coming from behind you; you shot one from the front.

But they were fast. You didn't see one coming until it was coming right at you, too close for you to fire. Your eyes widened as it pushed you against the wall; the only thing stopping it from mauling was your bow cushioned between it and your body.

Reflexively, your free hand went to the sword on your side. You raised it into the air and brought it down right on its neck, simultaneously kicking it away from you. Just as that one was gone, another came running from your right. You stabbed without a second thought.

Another got too close from your left. You hit it over the head with your bow, backing it with enough force to snap its neck. 

Too slow, you realized, quickly sheathing your sword and hanging the bow on your back, replacing it with the 9mm strapped to your thigh, promptly shooting the mutt in front of you.

You spun, seeing Katniss trying to fight off a mutt on top of her. You shot it with precise aim, killing it immediately.

Before you could even go to help her up, you were being knocked to the ground, your gun flying out of your hands.

You shuffled backward on the platform using the heels of your hands, eyes wild with the realization that it was right in front of you, but then just as it was about to come down on you, it was impaled from behind, a familiar trident glinting in the light.

A sigh of relief escaped you as Finnick threw the mutt to the ground, swinging at the next one like clockwork. That gave you the second you needed to get your bearings. You unsheathed your sword a second time, running up and covering him, slashing away at mutts on auto-pilot.

Your feet moved with a mind of their own, dancing with relentless determination. Finnick and you stood back to back, killing mutts like it was nothing.

The area was almost empty; just about everyone had gone up the ladder already, everyone but you, Finnick, and Katniss. She was on the ground, a mutt in front of her. You ran to her, sinking your sword into it and tossing it away before pulling her up. "Go, go, go!"

She followed your direction, running for the ladder. You hacked away at another one just as you heard Finnick scream, "Katniss!"

Immediately, you spun around, watching him throw his trident at a mutt trying to pull her down. Shit. He was weaponless.

A mutt crashed into him, and you wasted no time to pull out your second gun, shooting it in its centre. You ran to him, shooting two more on your way, and pulled him up. "Come on! Let's go!"

He rapidly nodded back to you, and you booked it, him running behind you. You made it to the ladder, climbing up like your life depended on it because it did. You were almost there when you heard Finnick scream, a mutt biting into his shoulder, but he stabbed it and pushed it to the ground.

You made it up to the top, looking down to see him up two-thirds of the way when a mutt jumped up and grabbed his shoulder. Your eyes went wide. "FINNICK!" 

He lost his grip, and your hand shot down at the speed of light, grabbing his. You surprised yourself at your own strength, pulling him up. Katniss quickly reached down to help you.

You don't know what the sound left you was; it was like a sob. He's okay. He's okay.

But if you were one second later, he wouldn't have been.

Without thinking about, you threw your arms around him. He reciprocated immediately, hugging you just as tight. Another sob left you. He's okay. He's okay.

I love him, and he's okay.

"Come on, come on, come on, come on! Let's go!" That brought you back to your senses, making you let go of him despite every bone in your body that said not to. "Keep moving! Keep moving!"

Katniss shot an arrow down the ladder just to slow down any mutts that'd follow you, and then the three of you were off once more.

You ran into the train station, and immediately, you were met with bullets flying your way. Not mutts this time. Peacekeepers.

Katniss pulled you behind a pole with her, soon realizing there were Peacekeepers attacking from the side, too. She shot an arrow at them, causing them and the escalator they were on to explode.

We have to run. It was either run or stay there to die. You pulled at her sleeve; she got the memo, running with you to the side.

One of the lights flickered before shining even brighter, like a spotlight. You soon realized its purpose when Messalla ran underneath it and was instantly vapourized, becoming nothing more than ashes.

Cressida stopped, her mouth falling open. You had to force yourself to yell at her. "Keep going! Keep going!" She got out of her shock and then started running again.

You didn't have time to stop and mourn over the life lost.

You raced through the station, shooting behind yourself periodically and dodging the light traps as you went.

But that wasn't enough. Not enough to satisfy the sick fantasies of a Gamemaker.

The ground behind you broke, and then it was coming at you like wave of rubble, forcing you to run faster than you ever had.

With all of your might, you jumped onto the platform, breaking your fall with a roll. Panting, you got back up, and you would've kept running had you not heard Cressida scream Peeta's name.

You turned around, seeing Katniss already running toward him. He was knelt forward, hands covering his ears. She crouched down next to him. "Peeta, we have to keep going!"

"I'm a mutt-"

"We have to keep going!"

 "I can't keep control!"

"Yes, you can-"

"Leave me, I'm a mutt!"

Katniss kept wrestling against him. "Look at me!" She grabbed his face into her hands. "Look at me." Within a split-second, her lips crashed into his, kissing him like he wasn't breathing and needed CPR.

Anyone watching could feel the love she had for that boy.

You glanced at Finnick to see him already looking at you, then you promptly looked away. This wasn't about you.

When she finally pulled away, she was nearly begging him. "Stay with me." And when you saw the look on his face, you knew that she got to him.

"Always," he whispered.

Katniss nodded, and then she pulled him up and you were running out. It was snowing when you got outside, a thin layer covering the ground. 

"I know where we are!" Cressida shouted, turning back to you. "I know a place. Up those stairs!"

You followed her, running up the stairs and passing a portrait of Finnick on the way, the words WANTED written on it in bold. There were likely similar ones all around the city. Your theory was proven correct when you ran past another post, this time with your own face.

Cressida ran forward to some dress shop, banging on the door. It almost looked like it was empty until you saw someone's figure behind the pixelated glass.

A woman opened the door and you all immediately ran inside, Cressida exclaiming, "Shut the door, shut the door!"

Katniss immediately raised her bow at the woman, drawing an arrow until Cressida assured her it was okay. While Finnick and Gale went to secure the perimeter, you stayed and examined the woman, getting a good look at her.

She had a tiger pattern tatted, framing her face and going down all the way to her neck, with whiskers. The orange, furry coat she wore completed her appearance. She looked familiar; you just couldn't pinpoint from where.

Cressida walked up to her. "Tigris, do you remember me? I'm with Plutarch's underground." Tigris just stared at her blankly. "We need your help."

In the background, someone shouted that it was clear. You watched as Tigris' eyes then locked on you. She didn't stare long before she acquiesced, leading you to another part of the shop. The boys met you on your way there.

She lifted a quilt off the ground, revealing a hidden trap door. It opened to a flight of stairs, and then the puzzle pieces suddenly clicked.

"I- I know you," you said. "You were a stylist in the Games."

She paused, removing her hood. "Until Snow decided I wasn't pretty enough anymore." Her hands ended up on her hips.

Pretty enough. That was all shades of ironic to you. How could such an ugly man decide what was beautiful?

Your mouth moved on its own accord. "We're here to kill him."

Tigris was impassive, but if you looked hard enough, you could see the slight curve of her lips.

You went down the stairs. She closed the door once the last of you was down. You were cemented to your spot by the stairs, listening to the sound of Pollux cry. His brother was dead.

The Leegs. Jackson. Castor. Messalla. Even Finnick almost died, and you don't know what you would've done if that happened, if he died due to decisions that you made.

This was your fault. This wasn't a game, but you played it like one. Now everyone that was dead was dead because of you.

Cressida said something about Gale needing stitches, along with Finnick. Slowly, you turned around, swallowing. This is my fault.

The words came tumbling out of your mouth. "I made it up." All eyes went to you. No take-backs now. "Everything." Your voice cracked. "There- there is no special mission from Coin, it's just- it was just my plan." Don't cry, Y/N. Don't cry. You don't deserve to cry. "Everyone that's dead is dead because of me—I lied."

"We know," Cressida said. "We all knew."

Your brows knitted together. They knew? "Wh- the soldiers from 13?"

"They did, too." They knew. "Do you really believe that Jackson thought you had orders from Coin?" Her voice wasn't accusatory, nor was it intended to be hurtful. It was genuine. She looked down. "She trusted Boggs and he clearly wanted you to go on."

But why? Why did Boggs trust you? Why did she lie for you, and why did any of them go with your plan?

"We had your back, Y/N." Your eyes darted to the new voice, meeting Finnick's blue eyes from across the room. His voice was soft, just as soft as it was earlier before the mutts came. "Always have. Always will."

Tears came to your eyes. Don't cry, Y/N. You sniffled. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I-" you cut yourself off. Don't cry, Y/N. You turned to Pollux. "I'm so sorry, Pollux. I'm so sorry."

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry-

"Glimmer. Marvel. Mags." You looked to the side, seeing Peeta with his eyes trained on the ground, reciting, "Clove. Wiress. Rue." He looked up at you. "Bay." Your breath hitched. Bay. "What do all those deaths mean?" 

You couldn't answer—because you didn't know. That was a question you'd been asking yourself since you were thrown into the arena at 15.

"They mean that our lives were never ours," Peeta said. "There was no real life, because we didn't have any choice. Our lives... belong to Snow, and our deaths do, too." 

Finnick's voice echoed in your head, words playing in your head that you had thought about a thousand times before. We will never be free, Y/N.

"But if you kill him—if you end all of this... all those deaths, they mean something." 

Your will was broken, a tear falling down your cheek against all your best restraint. Meaning. Every death since you were reaped for The Hunger Games and every death that came before it, they could all have meaning.

"Cinna. Boggs. Castor. Jackson. They chose this."

Katniss spoke up from beside you. "They chose you, Y/N." You turned to her, seeing the silent words that lied in her eyes. She nodded, as if confirming it for you. She was giving it to you.

Snow's death. It was yours.

So it was decided. You would kill President Snow. You would put an end to this, and you would give those deaths meaning. 

No matter what, even if it killed you. That didn't matter.

Your death would have meaning, too.

You were dressing Finnick's wound, wincing every time he hissed like you could feel the pain yourself. He didn't deny you when you sat next to him, a first aid kit in your hands.

You stitched him up like it was muscle memory, which it was. Your father taught you. I'm not always gonna be here, Y/N, he said, so there are some things I need to teach you so you can take of yourself. And your mother.

And you did. You took care of yourself and her for six years. Then you took care of yourself out in the wilderness in The Games, going as far as to kill people just to stay alive. When you got out, you continued to care of your mother, even as she refused to look at you. You sold your body and gave up your innocence so she would stay safe; you gave her your home.

Now where was she? She was dead.

But Finnick wasn't. He was still alive. He could've died right before your eyes, but he didn't. You couldn't let him die.

Your mother, she died without the two of you ever reconciling. You refused to let that be the case for you and Finnick. All of the grief and trauma between the two of you, it would be resolved. It had to be. Or, at least, it'd be as resolved as could be possible. 

Maybe there was too much too broken to be fixed. Maybe Finnick Odair and Y/N Y/L/N were doomed from the start.

But at least you had this. You had goodbye.

All of a sudden, he spoke up. "The plan was always to pull you out." You stopped what you were doing, your hands freezing in their place. "You were never supposed to be in The Games, Y/N. The Reaping was rigged."

"What?" Shock laced through your voice.

"You were supposed to stay in 4," he told you. "You were supposed to stay home, and then people from 13 would come pick you up." A breathless chuckle left him, one that you were sure hurt his ribs. "You were never supposed to volunteer."

Memories flooded your head.

Why would you do that?

Finn-

Why would you volunteer?

You intook a sharp breath, realization hitting you like a truck. The hiding away at the gala, talking to Plutarch, the way he wasn't surprised when the Quell was announced, the sheer anger he had when you volunteered. And then the insistence that you would be fine, that you were both gonna make it out of that arena.

Except you didn't.

"So that plan changed. Johanna was supposed to cut your tracker, but she didn't get the chance. Then Katniss shot the force field, and I-" his voice cracked, "I wanted to find you, but I couldn't move."

Stop. "Finnick-"

"I was gonna tell you." He turned around, facing you. "After The Games, I was gonna tell you that I loved you. But then they had you and I couldn't. But I do, Y/N." He grabbed onto your cheeks, and you let him. His eyes begged you to believe him. "I love you."

A shaky breath left you, the words reverberating through your head. I love you.

He loved you.

And this time, you believed him.

You rested your forehead against his. "God, I-" say it. "I love you, too."

In a heartbeat, Finnick's lips collided with yours. You didn't even have to think about before you kissed him back, your lips moving together in unison, dancing to the song you'd danced to for years. You realized this was your first time kissing him since the Quell, and you realized just how much you missed this.

Whenever Finnick kissed you, you felt loved, even if you knew he didn't love you.

Except this time, you knew he did.

When you pulled away, you couldn't help the smile that came across your face. When you opened your eyes, you saw that his face was no different.

This. This was what home felt like.

Even if you might not feel it again, it was nice to visit just one last time.

"When, um," you paused, running a hand through his hair. God, I missed this. "When all this is over, we can talk about everything."

His grin got wider when you thought that wasn't possible. "Okay. I can wait—I'd do anything for you." Your smile got a little hollow. I hope you let me die.

You were lying. You knew you wouldn't be here to talk about everything—you'd be dead by then. But you wanted to just have this, this one last moment. You wanted one last moment with Finnick, doing what the two of you did best. Pretending.

So you pretended everything was okay, and you made promises you couldn't keep.

"I love you, Y/N Y/L/N."

You smiled. "I love you, Finnick Odair." You'd love him to the end of time. You loved him to death. Soon, he'd realize that.

Goodbye, Finnick.

I love you.

Taglist: @avoxrising @mxacegrey @littleshadow17 @lovelyteenagebeard @nasyanastya @catastrxblues @zodiyack @zulpix-blog @mushroomelephant @muggies @lantsovheiress @hobiebrowns-wife @notplutos @faeriepigeons @hnslchw @unholyhuntress @aclmagic @gloryekaterina @ayme301 @lem0ns77 @kisskittenn @onlyangel-444 @moonagedaydream505 @spderm4nnnn @satellitespeirs @glitzcute @iammirrorball @corpsebasil @forever-sleepy-sloth @omwtkydttfym @divinelovers @maggiecc @i-am-a-simp1 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @nelliereadsstuff @how2besalty @dreaminglandsworld @eilaharmonia @catvader101 @lexa138 @h0neylemon @dakotali @hermionelove @theseerbetweenus @whosscruffylooking @yourdailymemedelivery @emma-andrea1 @s1lngwns @meenyminymoes-blog @roxi-reid @rattertatter @sunnybunnyy2 @just-levyy @amaranth-writing @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @joshhutchersonisdaddy @my-name-is-baby @hehehe13356 @quazsz @chloecharms23 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @thehairington86 @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @ment1tavoid @hereliesme @tayrae515 @mottergirl99 @blackdxggr

additional a/n: ru happy i didn't kill finnick?! it was very tempting, guys, but i had this planned out from the beginning. ALSO, bc i am skeptical that every tag on this taglist works, here is an additional taglist of everyone new that has asked to be on it.

[corviiids]

ok here is a playlist about light yagami

| light | no surprises - radiohead // | the death note | uprising - muse // boulevard of broken dreams - green day // | misa amane | starlight - muse // | ryuga hideki | do you want me (dead?) - all time low // | memory | i love you - woodkid // | the death note ii | NOSE BLEED - stand atlantic, sueco // you're gonna go far, kid - the offspring // when your heart stops beating - +44 // dead! - my chemical romance // wake me up when september ends - green day // | yagami | mama - my chemical romance // disarm - the smashing pumpkins // father and son - yusuf / cat stevens

also on youtube

(thoughts and context under the cut)

no surprises - light's nihilism and disillusionment pre-kira - without the death note i think light would have gone down this line faster.

A heart that's full up like a landfill A job that slowly kills you Bruises that won't heal You look so tired, unhappy Bring down the government

uprising; boulevard of broken dreams - self-explanatory i feel

Rise up and take the power back It's time the fat cats had a heart attack You know that their time's coming to an end

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me 'Til then I walk alone

starlight - misa towards light

Far away from the memories Of the people who care if I live or die ... My life You electrify my life Let's conspire to ignite All the souls that would die just to feel alive

do you want me (dead?) - light and L's early rivalry and interactions in college are largely exploratory, simultaneously more and less openly hostile, still cautious and uncertain where they stand with each other.

There's no such thing as a perfect crime Don't play that You've said it enough Cause you want me Or you want me dead

i love you - self-indulgent haha i couldn't resist. takes place in a similar continuity to my fic where light and L start a fake relationship for the investigation but when light briefly thinks it's real after he loses his memories. i think canonically light is too irritated with L's poor moral compass to develop true feelings for him even during this arc, but i do think it's reasonable to think light might develop a bit of a puppy crush and a desire for L's attention lol. simultaneously it's kinda a bit of L at kira.

Is there anything I could do Just to get some attention from you? In the waves I've lost every trace of you Where are you?

NOSE BLEED - i think this is the most lawlight song ever. (this also made me think of a couple of my fics.) after light gets his memories back i think his attachment to L transforms into a bit of disgust directed both at himself and L

I'd rather be lonely and hate myself Than someone you think about ... So this is what you get For messin' with my head Don't wanna end up dead (Dead) Six feet in the ground

you're gonna go far, kid - nobody wants to hear that this song is about light yagami but it is. lowkey this is L to light while those bells are ringing

There's something in your way And now someone is gonna pay And if you can't get what you want Well it's all because of me Now dance, fucker, dance Man, I never had a chance And no one even knew It was really only you

when your heart stops beating; dead! - self-explanatory and victorious in a hysterical about to start crying way

I'll be there when your heart stops beating I'll be there when your last breath's taken away In the dark when there's no one listening In the times when we both get carried away

Have you heard the news that you're dead? No one ever had much nice to say I think they never liked you anyway Oh, take me from the hospital bed Wouldn't it be grand? It ain't exactly what you planned

wake me up when september ends - listen i concede this one doesn't make a ton of sense but i've included it because the vibes work for me. something something a melancholy coming back to the self, a rude and painful awakening after a loss of innocence you cant run from. look over there, a distraction

The innocent can never last ... Here comes the rain again Falling from the stars Drenched in my pain again Becoming who we are

mama; disarm - light to his family, to the world, a manic little soliloquy

Stop asking me questions, I'd hate to see you cry Mama, we're all gonna die And when we go, don't blame us, yeah We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah You made us oh, so famous ... You should've raised a baby girl, I should've been a better son

I used to be a little boy So old in my shoes And what I choose is my choice What's a boy supposed to do? The killer in me is the killer in you

father and son - are you ever just so god damn sad about the yagamis.

FATHER I was once like you are now, and I know that it's not easy To be calm when you've found something going on ... SON Keeping all the things I knew inside It's hard But it's harder to ignore it

[bookwormbynight]

You know what's infuriating. Light wasn't past the point of no return after he wrote Higuchi's name. Like, he was, himself. Kira was back, and Kira wasn't stopping. But L's fucking inaction sealed Light's coffin.

To be fair, L didn't know the rule about destroying the death note was fake, but like. He figured out the 13 day rule was fake. Literally the only thing stopping him from following that train of thought was a lack of desire.

Here's the things he knew:

Light Yagami was probably Kira for a myriad of behavioral and circumstantial reasons

The 13 day rule exonerated him, but it was suspicious because it was a) a little too on the nose, and b) on a different page than most of the rules

The rule about not destroying the death note at risk of your life was the only other rule on the same exact goddamn page and was also incredibly convenient for someone who might like to continue using the thing

Based on behavior, it would make a lot of sense for Light to have lost his memory of being Kira

If that assumption was the truth, then Light absolutely just gained his memories back thanks to something to do with the physical notebook

Of course there were definitely some cons to the 'going in guns ablaze' approach for him. He wouldn't find out if the rule was true or not unless HE started dying, as opposed to the other option where he put somebody else's life at risk (how ironic that honestly I don't think Rem would have killed him over destroying the notebook). He wouldn't have the evidence anymore. There was the possibility that, since Light's memories were clearly attached to it, his might be attached too which means he would be losing that knowledge after solving the case. And, of course, he definitely had a Thing for Kira and would he be willing to upend the board and give up Kira-Light in order to cheat his way into a win?

Well, in my personal opinion, boo hoo bitch. Quit fucking moping on the roof in the rain about how your ex-boyfriend is about to kill you and fucking DO something about it. Just burn the goddamn notebook, grab Light, and abscond from Japan with him. But Whatever. Die, ig 😭

[cenorii]

Complicated things between Birkin and Wesker

Here I'll try to get to the bottom of why Birkin condemned his friend to death and why, through his fault, Wesker is doomed to be HIV (Progenitor) infected even if he stops using PG67A/W. Dealing with canon and delving into the dark side of lore...

Let's start right away with what I've intrigued you with - Wesker's infection. I compared his infection with the prototype virus to HIV for a reason, because there are many similarities. When Wesker became infected and mutated, he became a perpetual carrier of the virus in his blood. Every particle his body carries the virus. And for some reason this fact isn't brought up at all in the fandom… I haven't seen anyone discuss how infectious Wesker actually is. Like HIV, Progenitor strains are classified as retroviruses.

Wesker is just as contagious as any other creature that has been under the sway of any strain of Progenitor, because there are no exceptions in this case. Thanks to a successful symbiosis with the virus, he doesn't attack humans and has only gotten positive attributes from it, but that's the only thing that makes him less contagious than normal infected.

Even if he stops using PG67A/W, which stabilizes his abilities gained from the virus, it won't fix his situation, because even without PG67A/W the virus will continue to exist in his body, there is no connection between this injection and the virus in his blood, it's just a stabilizer supplement.

Getting his body fluids (for example, blood) into someone else's body would cause an immediate reaction and infection. Knowing what a small survival threshold the prototype virus has and how selective it is, the person would probably just die on the spot. The prototype is not capable of creating random zombie-like mutations, it has only two outcomes - death or success. So the precautions here are the same as for HIV positive people. I wouldn't recommend Chris with open wounds to shoot Wesker up close, because if his blood gets on the wound, it could cause irreversible effects. Of course, such a battle tactic is beneath Wesker's dignity, but I would recommend that he bite his opponents. This would prove to be much more effective than a hand punch, as even Chris can easily dodge that punch. However, I'd like to see him try to dodge someone who wants to claw at his flesh at breakneck speed…

Now let's talk about Birkin. He knew the effects of the prototype virus because he had personally worked on this particular strain. He lied to Wesker about the survival rate after injection (File "Virus Memo" from "Umbrella Chronicles"). His information is a lie because out of 13 Weskers, only two survived the injection of the prototype virus. The survival rate is clearly not 90% as he said, but about 15.3%. Birkin knew that his comrade was at risk of dying, so he could have given him the fake injection and lied to him along the lines of "it's something special, but you can't be injured after the injection or you'll die", thus safeguarding Wesker from the urge to throw himself on Tyrant's claws and also safeguarding his humanity. But Birkin was afraid to go against Spencer, however the old man would never have known whether or not Wesker had injected himself with the virus if Birkin had said he had handed him the syringe. I also think that Birkin was unaware of Wesker's immunity, so by giving him the virus under the guise of a panacea, he was sending his friend to his death. You could say it's a cruel and selfish act on his part.

Although, there is a slight possibility that Birkin could have taken tests from Wesker beforehand and calculated that he was immune, which is why he attributed such unrealistically high survival rates to the prototype virus. In that case, his act has a modicum of nobility, since it's unlikely that anyone took tests from the other 12 Weskers. But that's just a theory, we don't know if he really knew about it and if Birkin could have really selfishly thrown Wesker to his fate, turning him into one of his (and Spencer's) test subjects.

[anime-related]

AU where L and Light go to To-Oh together before the Death Note is dropped. (Whether Light is Kira is up to you, I think it'd be cool either way)

While L and the cops are investigating Kira, Light and L have began a relationship. Now, Soichiro (lights dad, if your memory is as bad as mine) is working with L, but has also literally seen him in the house.

Sufficed to say, he's shocked when he meets L and it's his son's college friend. Even more so when Light calls L nearing the end of a meeting and hears them talk more than platonically.

Here's some little excerpts my mind made up. I've watched the show only once, so I'm sorry if/that it's ooc

"Hello. I am here to see Light."

"Light! There's a weird guy at the door!" Sayu called. She glanced at him. "No offense."

"None taken," L dismissed.

Light ran down the stairs, smiling at the sight of L in the door.

"Hey! I picked up some cake, and we can go play that game I talked about."

"I figured as much, since that's why I'm here," L said. Light rolled his eyes fondly.

They walked into the kitchen, where his father was getting water.

"Oh, you must be Soichiro Yagami. Police chief, solved over 30 cases."

"Wow, Light. I had no idea you talked about me all that much."

"He doesn't."

Upon setting their sights on L, Soichiro's mind went blank. He would've never guessed. What were the chances. While everyone else was making their judgments on L and his appearance, Soichiro was trying to combine Ryuzaki with L in his mind.

He ignored it. It'd be safer for both of them if they didn't bring their personal lives into this. He took out his ID and introduced himself as if it were the first time.

"If I were Kira you would be dead Soichiro Yagami."

Combining these two people wouldn't be so difficult. He knew Ryuzaki reminded him of someone.

As they went on, he remembered small details. Light running downstairs because he and Ryuzaki had left their phones there. Ryuzaki also had an infatuation for sugar, and even when his wife made pretty universally loved tea, he'd still add stacks of sugar cubes.

Then there was...

"And from now on, I'll have to ask that you stop calling me 'L.' It's..." L glanced at Soichiro. "Ryuzaki now. Just to be safe."

How cautious was L to give a fake name to L before Kira was even a factor? And if Soichiro didn't know him, would he have used a different alias?

"Excuse me," L said, pulling his phone oddly from his pocket. "Your timing is perfect, I'm nearly done with my meeting. I'll be over shortly."

"I assume you have more puzzles to test me with?"

"Of course I do." Whoever was on the other side laughed softly. A small smile cracked L's face.

"I look forward to it, Ryu."

"So do I."

"See you soon."

L hesitated, but hung up without saying much more like usual.

"My apologies, I try not to keep him waiting."

"Was that Watari?" Matsuda asked.

"No, my boyfriend." He said it so casually, though it shocked everyone.

"You... what?" Aizawa asked.

"He's the only person I've ever met on my level. If it didn't put him in significant danger, I would've brought him in to help." He pushed his lip with his thumb. "Though that's not the only reason," he added in a mumble. He looked as ashamed as L could look.

"How long have you, uh..." Poor Matsuda was thrown extremely off guard.

"I've been queer my whole life if that's what you're asking. Though, I'm sure you're not. I've known him for a few months. He's very attractive." He pulled his hand away from his smile. "I'd tell you his name, but I don't feel comfortable doing so."

Soichiro feared he already knew who it was. Light didn't need to be put in more danger than he already was being his son. He didn't know how to feel about this.

"You'd place surveillance camera's on your own boyfriend?" Soichiro asked. He wouldn't mind placing them on Light, but L always had a certain level of respect for him.

"Of course. I've suspected he was L since before we started a romantic relationship."

This was a shock to everyone. Not only L dating Light, but L potentially dating Kira and knowing it.

"Why?"

"Light is my intellectual equal. Unfortunately that makes it more likely that he's Kira. And the fact that he made the first move only increases that likelihood, though he doesn't know I'm L. If he did, I'd be more sure."

"How sure are you?"

"About 5%. If he knew I was L before he kissed me, it'd be 7 or 8%. Getting close with the enemy is a good way of staying in their good graces and not getting caught, but I'm not going to excuse Light as a suspect just because he makes me happy. That would be ridiculous. And being his boyfriend makes it so I can monitor him outside the house without raising suspicion."

"I might be out of line, but that sounds messed up. Spying on your boyfriend?"

"Well, I don't have to. I can monitor elsewhere while they're at home. I will still be attending my outings with Light and I can't help but monitor him in those moments, though I can assure you we're usually focused on each other; I'm not sure he'd have a moment to kill with me there."

"And Light doesn't know you're L?" Aizawa asked. "Couldn't it be helpful for him to be brought on the case? He's helped on cases before."

"If Light isn't Kira, I don't want him in any danger. I'm sure Soichiro understands my dilemma." His voice was tense as were his hands.

"I do," Soichiro admitted. "I'm find putting cameras around the house. If there's any chance, we may as well check."

"Exactly."

[andreal831]

Lily Salvatore and Misogyny

I did an analysis on Esther a while back and was asked to do the same for Lily by @unabashedmoonlight. Sorry I am just getting around to it. I wanted to rewatch before discussing it in any kind of depth.

The misogyny Esther faces from the fandom is not limited to her, Lily and her heretics are constantly framed in misogynistic ways. She is yet another woman who has suffered immense levels of abuse, but is granted none of the understanding or forgiveness of her male counterparts.

When we first meet Lily, the show does a great job as painting her as the perfect villain. She appears to have almost no redeeming qualities. She is a ripper, she abandoned her own children to an abusive man, she started a new family and never looked back, etc. And this is what the fandom focuses on. They ignore the entire backstory that unfolds in Season 7 and her development. Yet, when the men in the show are critiqued for being monsters, the fandom jumps to explain it away by trauma and half-assed redemption arcs.

Lily is a perfect example of the cycle of abuse, escaping from one (Giuseppe) to find herself with another (Julien).

Lily and Giuseppe

Lily's abuse was even more explicitly stated than Esther's. There's no denying she was verbally, physically, emotionally, and financially abused throughout her marriage. To the point that she was willing to fake her own death and flee.

They even explicitly show that Lily was dependent on Giuseppe. She had to steal money from him to try and run with her own children because she didn't have any means for herself. She wasn't able to work and didn't have access to money.

During the time period they lived, Lily had nearly no resources to escape. She would have been the legal property of her husband. If she had run with her sons, Giuseppe would have had legal rights to throw her in jail. Yet she was willing to risk it to save her children. When Giuseppe found out he made certain that this was not going to be an option.

Lily also had less ability to protect her sons than Esther did since she wasn't a witch. She was not able to stop the abuse no matter how much people wanted her to. She could have stayed with her sons, but it wouldn't have stopped their abuse. She can be criticized as a mother for that, but at the same time, she was worried about her own survival as well. Giuseppe shot his own sons, it's not farfetched to believe she felt afraid for her life from such a man.

Lily and Julien

Shortly after she flees, Lily meets Julien. This is such a pivotal time for survivors. She had not had a chance to recover from the abuse in any means. It is very common for people who have suffered abuse to find themselves in second, third, fourth, etc. abusive relationships. It is a cycle. Abuse makes people feel weak and vulnerable as well as lowers their self-esteem. This can cause the survivors to seek out people who reinforce their low self-image and treat them how they feel they deserve to be treated.

In Lily's case, the only relationship she knew was Giuseppe. So when she meets Julien, and he is not physically abusing her, she truly believes he is better. She misses all of the other signs of abuse. She doesn't realize the manipulation. Julien is the reason Lily doesn't go back for her sons. She sends Oscar and Valerie to check on them and Julien convinces them to tell Lily they moved on from her death. Julien needed to stay in control of every aspect of Lily's life and he manipulated his way into getting that control without Lily even realizing it.

This is obvious by the way she vehemently tells her sons that Julien is nothing like Giuseppe. But as soon as they point out the similarities, she notices it right away and switches sides. This takes an incredible amount of strength to do. Once she realizes that Julien is no longer the man she thought he was, she turns on him. This is something the fandom tends to leave out when talking about Lily.

Her last moments are for her sons and her heretic children.

"I never had the courage to tell you before... I can choose them both."

After her death, Julien says that Lily is the only thing that kept her sane. This language is textbook narcissistic abuser. Making a person feel like every time you mess up it is their fault. They are the only thing that can keep you in line so if they ever leave, it will be their fault for everything you do.

Lily experienced abuse nearly her entire existence, but was finally able to fight back at the very end.

Lily, Stefan, and Damon

Most of the hate Lily gets is because of Damon. Damon's entire redemption plot is essentially tied to his treatment as a child/human life. TVDU likes to redeem characters by not making them seek redemption, but by making the fandom just feel bad for them and making excuses for their behaviors.

Damon and Klaus essentially get the same exact backstory because it is effective and takes minimal effort. Watching a child suffer abuse is an immediate way to garner sympathy because children are innocent. No one deserves to be abused, least of all children.

So painting Lily as a absolute villain allows more sympathy for Damon. But again, if Damon can get sympathy, it's only fair to give Lily sympathy as well. They both suffered abuse at different times. I'd even argue that Lily had better development.

Damon's last words to Lily show just how little Damon was able to grow as a character. He, like Klaus, hung onto his childhood trauma almost as a safety blanket. If he never faced his abuse, he could continue to use it to be angry. He never had to take accountability for anything. This is furthered by Damon at her funeral, acting like a child when his brother clearly needed to grieve. But that's another discussion.

Damon's development was tied to the women in his life, whereas Lily's was tied to her overcoming her abuse.

Lily and her Heretics

I also don't necessarily blame Lily for finding her family. TVDU is full of found families, even from characters that have living families. Yes, it hurt her sons to see her being more of a mother to other people, but should she have been alone the rest of her life?

Lily loved her heretics and even chose them over Julien. She wanted the best for them and even was willing to compromise with them to make them happy. This to me shows that she was a good person, but circumstances pushed her to do terrible things. Much like every man in the show.

The Misogyny of it all

Every character in the show has done bad things for various reasons. But the men get excuses and forgiveness, while the women get blame. I hate how often the show abuses women just so a man can have some kind of character development without doing anything.

Lily is a complex character. She is not all good or all bad. No one is. She wasn't evil for how she behaved, rather she was someone suffering abuse and responding to it.

I'm not saying Lily is perfect or that she deserved forgiveness from her sons. She still did so much that can be criticized. But we also can't ignore the abuse she suffered. She was a complex character who yes made terrible decisions, but ultimately was she worse than some of the fandom favorites? She did everything to fight for her and her family's survival like Elijah. She abandoned her children because of her own trauma just like Klaus did. She was a ripper like Stefan. Why are the women, who are victims of abuse, treated like the abusers rather than their fellow survivors?

[mistymisfit]

So long, Marianne III

Summary: Reader is a spy working undercover in Gotham when she meets Jason Todd, who despite her better judgement she forms a very close friendship with. This story follows their escape from Arkham asylum, their fall out and the times they run into each other as they get older.

Relationship: AK!Jason x Meta!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of reader being at the beach and wearing unspecified swimwear, mentions of Jason being taller than reader, the shittiest vaguest smut you'll ever read (it's separated with ** in case anyone wants to skip it), mentions of past SA, and graphic descriptions of depression (like straight out of my psychopathology textbook). So minors DNI!!!!

Word Count: 6,5K

Read on ao3

Masterlist - Mobile masterlist

Years passed and you got better, better at handling your feelings, at smothering them down so you wouldn't make the same mistake again. Countless identities after and you haven't even been close to getting involved with someone the same way you did with Jason. Now you lived and moved under the name "Penny Lewis", a fake identity as a journalist that would allow you to move around countries to wherever they sent you.  You wouldn't lie to yourself, it was lonely and on some nights you wished you would've said yes to him. But you wouldn't have forgiven yourself if you let your life be defined by him. You knew the consequences of deserting and any happiness a life with him could've bought you would have been overshadowed by guilt. You heard of Joker's death from some people you walked past last time you were in the States, realizing he finally died of whatever disease he was making you slow down on the very same night you escaped. You also found out Batman was still alive and kicking, after that you wondered were Jason was, wasn't he hellbent on killing him?

Now you were stationed in Venezuela, the closest headquarters of your agency were in an entire different country so you were all on your own. Your only company being the agent who you got partnered with, a serious guy, with not much muscles but was a tech expert. The cover was that you were a regular couple on a holiday, but what you were really doing was investigating, someone was training people and forming an army there. You had to find out who and why. You've felt bad about certain missions before, especially when after getting the information you needed your bosses decided not to do anything about it because they deemed the situation was "not important enough", when you were there available and ready to stop a tragedy. What would be the reason for someone to form a secret army in a country under a dictatorship? Maybe they were just trying to get their rights back, free their country. But you sighed and pushed it all down, at least you get to enjoy the sea for a moment.

Unbeknownst to you, you were being observed from a distance . He was doing a routine perimeter check by himself, using it as an excuse to take a walk and be on his own, when he looked around and thought he saw you in the distance from the cliff he was on. He thought it'd be impossible but still presses on the side of his helmet to zoom in, so it was you. You had a different haircut, and hair color but he'd recognize you anywhere. He takes in the sight of you, now older and no longer the teenager he remembered. You were talking to someone, the other person stands up when you turn around to take off your dress and leave it on an arm-chair. He doesn't mean to but his breath hitches when he sees you in your swimwear, guess he didn't get over his crush like he thought. His expression under the mask changes when he sees who you were talking to, a guy, a very friendly guy who puts a hand on your hip and you kiss his cheek. What the fuck? Is the only thing he could think about. Until he feels a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Are we losing time spying on girls on the beach now?" The scoff he lets out in response is almost inaudible under the electronic voice the helmet gave him.

"Fuck off, Wilson" He brushes off the hand on his shoulders and moves along, clearly you were not who he remembered. You moved on when he couldn't, he was holding onto a memory and a moment of his life he knew would never come back. He had to force himself to see what you really were right now, a threat to his plan not an old friend.

Knowing of your presence and your line of work, he instructed his men to run more frequent perimeter checks and be more wary of any breaches or intrusions. So, a few nights after he first saw you, you find yourself sneaking into his base. You were good, stealthy and well-trained, light on your feet and fast- with the addition of being able to stop time. You avoid all eyes, and hide in the dark using the lack of lights to your advantage. Of course the secret military base would have the least amount of lights outside of it to avoid attracting any attention. It was close enough to the city in case anything was needed but also far away enough to go unnoticed. Whoever was running this operation knew what they were doing. You climbed to the roof of the main building, where you thought was most likely to have an office, which would have papers or a computer that you could use to find out who they were. Quick fingers work on picking the lock of a door on the back of it but as soon as you open it you are stopped.

A gun is pressed to your temple and you thought "fuck", you almost made it in.

"Don't move an inch, sweetheart" The man next to you speaks, and then moves your hair with the muzzle "I remember you, no powers, make a move and I'll shoot you"

You weakly nod in response, how did you even get caught? You've been studying their shifts, their patterns, everything. He was not supposed to be here. You raise your hands, signaling defeat, a bullet to your head was one of the things you couldn't heal. He opens the door and pushes you in, it leads to a dark storage unit. With the gun still fixed on your head he walks behind you, telling you were to go. Until you made it to the main room, a few gasps and whispers from the men there are heard, shocked to see someone made it past through all the security measures. You could feel the uncountable amount of eyes on you, the attention making you uneasy- not that your life being threatened didn't make you feel uneasy enough. But if he had orders to kill on sight, you would've been dead by now so you may still have a chance of escaping.

"Someone call the Knight!" He shouts, getting somebody to bind your hands behind your back with a zip tie "this gun leaves her head and we're all fucked"

He was right, you'd go for him first. Maybe only for him and then flee, they wouldn't make a fuss over one casualty. You could still complete your mission. Then you see him walking towards you, a tall man, wearing a helmet- was it electronic? huh? You assume only the helmet is robotic because he moved like a real person, it wouldn't be the weirdest thing you've come across. A robot leading a secret militia, that's a funny story to tell. Everything from his posture to the way he walked and held himself made you think he looked like the boss of this place. His gloved hand holds your jaw and leans down, like he's getting a good look at you under the blue screen of his helmet. You debate for a second if it'd be a good idea to spit on it, you were already fucked there's no other way than down now.

"To think such a pretty face could take us all out before we noticed" You barely hear the whisper of the modulated voice. And you don't know why it angers you to the point all logic is thrown out the window and you decide to take it out on the --much taller than you-- guy in front of you. He acknowledged your strength, what you were capable of doing and called you pretty while he was at it too.

You headbutt him below his chin, figuring that might be a weak point in the helmet. Had he not worn that you would've gone straight for his forehead, it was his fault for putting himself so close to you. He stumbles a few steps back from you, and you could hear the "ohh"s and gasps from the men there. It feels good for about 5 seconds, then you start wondering why you haven't been shot yet. Wasn't the man who found you supposed to be a hit man or something like that? And you were also severely outnumbered, this could have been over a while ago. You hear a robotic chuckle, it probably didn't even hurt him, and then hes grabbing your arm tightly, pushing a gun to your side.

"Adorable" He mocks

"Fuck you" You whisper under your breath, still not ready to go without a fight.

"Party's over, go the fuck home" He screams , squeezing your arm so hard you'll think it will leave a bruise "I'll handle her myself"

He starts guiding you away and for a second you have trouble keeping up with his much longer steps. You huff in annoyance, sure that if you were to stop walking he could hold you up and drag you with how strong his grip was on you. You move quite a lot, you didn't expect the place to be so big, you even go up a set of stairs until he finally opens the door to what looks like an office-kind of. It doesn't look like the place gets much use, and the sole desk only has a few things scattered over it, you doubt any of them had any importance if he took you there. There wasn't even a computer on it and you noted the chair on the other side even had dust on it. What you didn't hear on your way out was the words exchanged between the men, which would definitely have let you guess who hid under the robot mask.

"They know each other?" One of the Knight's most trusted lieutenants asked.

"She's an old ex-girlfriend of his," He clarifies, remembering how you got away. "used to be a real pain in my ass once"

"He knew she was coming?"

Slade just shrugged and walked away, avoiding anymore questions. Of course the kid knew, that's why he had doubled the perimeters check, he wasn't stupid. But it wasn't until now that he put two and two together and realized you were who he was staring at the beach the other day.

He turns you to face the desk with your back to him and it makes you nervous. What was he going to do? You'll freeze him and escape if he tries anything weird, screw a cover. They already knew too much about you so it's not like your cover mattered much anyways. He takes out a knife, God knows from where, and to your surprise uses to cut off the zip tie around your wrists.

"Why are you freeing me?"

"Because I know you wont try anything funny" You recognize the now non-modulated voice, of course it's him. Who else would be running a militia like this? It almost makes you want to laugh, sure this is how you find each other after 5 years. You see the helmet dropped at the desk but you don't dare to turn and face him just yet. You had 5 years to think about everything, to make peace with every choice you took but you were still a little afraid to face him.

"This usual for you?" He asks when you keep quiet, you don't even look at him. He wants to say he's disappointed but he can't. He knows someone like you, pretty and perfect, won't dwell in the past like he does. "Getting caught?"

"No," you reply in a weak whisper "this is my first time actually"

"What about the time-"

"It was on purpose, I was ordered to let myself get captured" You cut him off, crossing your arms in front of yourself, as if trying to shield your body from something you were not quite sure what it was. This was one of the things that would be easier to tell him without looking at his face, not like you are not dying to stare at him and see if he's changed with the years.

"Of course," He scoffs, a gloved hand resting on your shoulder "you just happened to run into your kidnapped boyfriend, lucky me"

You blush despite the situation you were in, you never thought you'd live to see the day you heard Jason calling himself your boyfriend-even if he was using that tone. Even if he had an attitude like that, was he still pissed? even after all this time?

"Jason" You sigh, what now? You tell him about how you were ordered not to look for him any further? How you disobeyed and got yourself punished from insubordination? Though that is probably how you ended up with that suicide --let yourself be captured-- mission that led you to find him.

"What? Can't even look me in the eye?" He sighs too, ending the sentence by whispering your name. "You hate me now?"

"Don't ever say that" You quickly turn around to face him. Was he always this tall? And this huge? He's obviously gained a lot of muscle since the last time you saw him, and probably grew a few inches taller too. Do boys keep growing after they turn 18? Or did he always tower over you this much? You made yourself a mental note to look it up when it was safe. Yeah, you saw him moments ago, but he had the helmet on, you didn't know you were looking at Jason it was different.

He, obviously, still has the J scar on his face, and he looks even more rough than what you remembered. You still think he's handsome, though. And his eyes are just as pretty as you remembered. It feels like the world stopped on its axis when you look at him, your memory pales in comparison to the real thing. Even if his presence has changed, and he feels much more dangerous now, you still see the same boy who would sneak to your room to get his broken ribs fixed and cuddle you. You wanted to believe he was still in there, that all the trouble you went through to help him wasn't for nothing. He's staring at you too, he has been since you entered his view, but now he is not wearing the mask so you can see his eyes trained on you.

"I could never hate you" You wanted to reach for him, touch him, just to make sure it was real but you refrained from doing it. You didn't know if he'd be okay with it, you had to bring yourself back to earth and think about how much he could've changed in the past few years.

"There you are, looking prettier than the day I left you" He apparently has no problem grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks.

"Oh so your memory is intact" you push his hand away, his words reminding you that you were supposed to be mad at him.

"Come on, baby" He's trying to butter you up with the pet name, and you're ashamed to say it's working "You promised me some answers"

"Then ask" You tease, leaning backwards to the desk and resting your palms on it to support yourself.

"Why Marianne? Why Penny?" He asks, your legs were caged in between his not allowing you to leave as he towered over you. Hot, you thought against all logic and reason. You are not surprised to hear him say your new alias either, he must've done his research too.

"They're songs from the sixties" Your head tilted to the side with your gaze still fixed on him. You were just trying to update your memory of him, for future reference.

"The Beatles?"

"And Leonard Cohen, you should look him up." You suggest.

"Who's the guy with you?" You chuckle at the petty question.

"Jealous much? Don't worry about him, it's all make pretend"

"What about your family?" Jason questions, not letting you linger on the fact that he was in fact very jealous of the guy he thought to be your boyfriend.

"My parents died in the accident that gave me my powers... or at least that's what they told me." You sigh, ouch sensitive topic, but you had promised yourself to tell him everything he wanted to know because of the guilt that ate you up when you thought he was dead. You never saw their bodies or any confirmation that this was true. All you had to go from was their word, and they could've killed your parents to secure you as an asset for all you know. "It also gave me amnesia, so I don't remember much of that"

"And you don't have a missing sister?" He follows up, remembering what you told him all those years ago. That you were not interested in fighting crime like he was, you were sneaking out at night to try to find your missing sister. Something you wouldn't tell him much about, and he didn't pressure you into giving out more information because he thought it was a sensitive subject.

"I have a sister," you look down and to the side, as if hiding your face from him "she isn't missing. She's got a normal life and it'll stay like that"

"Is she why you didn't leave with me?" His hand gently guides your chin so you look up at him again, this time you grab his wrist to stop him. Yes , you wanted to say.

"Lose the gloves," You try to change the subject, now holding the most intense eye contact of your life "touch me seriously"

He's taken aback by your request. You wanted what? Him touching you? He's not sure if he should do it, ever since his time in Arkham he's been keeping to himself. Jason's pretty sure the last time he felt skin to skin contact was the last time he saw you, when he grazed your skin pulling your hair back.

"How do your powers work?" He asks, changing the subject too. You were just two people trying so hard to avoid the other to step on their emotional landmines. If one of you got too close the other would be quick to push them away, not allowing yourselves to fully open up despite promising to be honest. It almost makes you want to sigh in defeat, you were still holding his wrist so you put his hand on the desk behind you as close to your body as possible.

"I control time to a certain degree, so when I heal you I just turn your body back to before it was injured," You explain "it wouldn't work on any disease your body was going to develop anyways, I can slow it down but your body will always progress to it"

"Like Alzheimer?" You nod "So when you stopped Deathstroke you...froze him in time?"

"Pretty much, yes"

"What about bullet wounds?"

"Can't do much if the bullet's still inside, I can only stop the bleeding so much"

"And what abou-"

"Jay" You cut him off with a plea.

And with the look you give him he decides to give it a shot, just for you. He roughly presses his lips to yours, to test if he'd be able to take it. It almost knocked the air out of your lungs, first he refused to take off his gloves to touch you and now he's kissing you like this.

"I want to..." He whispers, his hands holding your face to make sure you won't go anywhere. "I want to try"

"We can take it slow" You offer and he nods along, letting go of you to finally take off his gloves.

First he touches your face, taking in your soft skin and you let him. You've wanted to feel his hands on you for too long, he can touch you anywhere he wants for all you care. Then he moves them down to your waist, and pulls up your black shirt until it's not tucked in your pants and he can sneak under the clothing, your breath hitches but you allow it. The second he's kissing you again he's completely disregarding what you told him about going slow. If it wasn't for him holding you, your arms on which you were resting your weight would've given out.  

"Can I?" You barely manage to get away from him to ask, and he nods quickly before kissing you again.

Your arms go around his neck, just enough to push him closer to you but at the same time trying not to overwhelm him. What did slow mean again? He realizes how touch starved he is, that it's not that he didn't want to be touched at all, he wanted to be touched by someone he knew would never hurt him. He needed to know that said touch wasn't meant to harm him or didn't have any second intentions to do so. Jason understands, right in that moment, that he wanted you back as much as wanted revenge on Batman. He's lifting you up so you sit on the desk, a hand leaving your waist just to guide your legs to wrap around him. He starts to lift your shirt up, but you stop him. You couldn't bear the feeling of someone else's hands taking off your clothes, not again. It almost felt like you could hear her voice again, telling you all about how you were such a cute thing and you were lucky her and her homicidal maniac of a partner were looking out for you from other immates-- and staff members. Worst part was you knew deep down she wasn't lying about that. You desperately don't want to go back there, not now.

"I'm sorry-"you whisper, and he recognizes that tone and that look in your face. It's the same as his own "let me..."

He only hums in agreement and gives you some space so you can take your black shirt off. Your fingers curl trying to get a hold of the chest-plate of his armor when you drag him back to kiss you. You feel his warm hands on your waist again, lowering down and keeping you in place. There was no running away now, not that you wanted to. Jason was not letting go of you tonight, his hold staying the same as his kisses go from your lips to your neck, right over your pulse point. He guides your hand to where you could take the suit off, and you learn fast working on undoing buckles and belts to rid him of the unnecessary layer of metal right now.

"I missed you" he whispers against your neck, you were blushing now.

"I missed you too" You sigh, the chest armor dropping to the floor with a loud noise that almost makes both of you flinch.

You had your eyes closed up until that moment where he stopped. You caught him staring at the tattoo on your hip. They were numbers small enough not to draw attention to them, written in a way you could've passed it off as a date in case anyone asked but its real purpose was to serve to recognize you in case you died. That was if the tracker under your skin was taken out or your face was unrecognizable. It made you feel like branded livestock, as if you were just an object. You always avoid looking at it and he should do the same. Now it was your turn to grab his chin and lead his face to look at you. Jason wasn't the only one troubled in this relationship, you had your own issues too.

"Don't" you scold, setting a clear boundary. Which he respects, he won't ask about it and if you don't want him to stare he won't.

He evens you out by taking the black long-sleeved t-shirt he wore under the suit and you don't want to stare but good God... Your eyes rush from his abs back to his eyes and you catch him smirking, you let out a giggle at the thought of him teasing you for it. He was about to do the same to you, make you look up so you wouldn't pay attention to his scars but when he noticed they were your eyes looked he knew that's not what distracted you. It felt almost normal, like you were a normal girl and a normal guy about to hook up. Of course in the back of your head you knew it wasn't the case but you allowed yourself to cling into that sense of normalcy. He's grateful that you ignore his more visible scars, that you still see him as the guy you met in Gotham so long ago. He wants to think that in your eyes at least he wasn't a failure.

"I'm sorry," He whispers, both hands cupping your face tenderly as if he wasn't holding your entire skull in them "I get it now... why you couldn't tell me, and that I treated you like shit"

"Yeah, you were a bit of an asshole" You tease with a chuckle.

He presses a soft kiss to your lips and you almost paw at his wrists when you feel like he's pulling away from you. "Will you forgive me?"

"Jay-" You murmur, seeing the tears forming in his eyes, it's the softest voice he's ever heard "I already have"

*.*

His mouth only meets yours again for a few seconds before he pushes everything off the desk, dusty papers falling everywhere and all over the floor. He's pressed up against your core when he lays you down on your back. This is were he belongs, your legs wrapped around him as he plasters kisses all over your jaw, your neck and collarbone, just anywhere he could reach. How soft lips welcome him again and again, it's like a dream come true, and your warm skin against him which he can't get enough of. His hands are steady at your waist, making sure to keep you in place, yours busy themselves tugging at the short hair on the back of his neck.

"Jay" you moan, closing your eyes. Fuck, if he wanted to have you like this he could.

"My-my ro-room's over the-" He stutters, you've barely even touched the guy and he already felt like he was melting at your touch-you were making him soft and hard all at the right places. "over there"

"You wanna take me there?" You flirt with a pout and he nods with a weak uh-huh.

Soon he's dragging you up to pick you up, a giggle escapes your lips feeling his hands on your ass. You push away the thought of how much it was turning you on to be manhandled like this.Your hands slide down to his shoulders to steady yourself as he takes you to the well hidden room connected to this office. You don't get much time to appreciate the room decor--there isn't any-- before you are laying flat on your back again, this time against a mattress. He unties your boots so you can kick them off, then your pants come off with only a bit of help from him with dropping them to the floor and he takes a step back, getting a good look at you.

"I don't have any..." he hesitates, " 'm not really sleeping around here"

"You're not?" You tease, a feet reaching for him playfully and he catches your ankle to stop you rolling his eyes in the process, his gorgeous blue eyes. "I won't catch anything from you?"

"Fuck, no" Jason scoffs, as if he didn't test himself for every disease know to man when he got out of Arkham. Besides, like he said he wasn't sleeping around, he wasn't sleeping at all--in every sense of the word.

"It's okay"

"I won't catch anything from you?" He repeats the question, and you shake your head no with a smirk "not even a kid?"

"Don't worry about that," you blush, looking away "it won't happen"

He hums in acknowledgment as his hand slides down from your ankle to your knee, parting your legs so he can settle between them again. Your heart was racing at the feeling of his hand trailing higher up your thigh, until he pushed your underwear to the side. His eyes were fixed on you, watching every reaction you had to know what you liked. What made you feel better.

"Jay-" you moaned.

"Hm?" It was almost mocking how he hid his face on your neck plating wet kisses on your skin.

"Want you"

"Want me what?" He teases, and you can't take it anymore. You grab his face with both your hands to make him look at you again before kissing him.

"Want you to fuck me" The determination in your voice had him nodding and sliding off your underwear and his own remaining clothes.

He bites back whatever sound wanted to leave his lips when he slides inside you, he's too busy watching your mouth part in a gasp and your eyes shut. He takes it slow, letting you adjust-- and getting used to the overwhelming feeling of being so close to you. He's over you, he's surrounding you like he's the only thing that exists in this world. His heartbeat slows down, looking down at the most beautiful sight he's ever seen. Jason thinks that just like this he may as well eat you alive, at least that way there will be no more lies . That if he somehow managed to swallow you whole then he could know everything about you, the way you do about him. He's only pulled back to reality when he feels your hands at his shoulders, moving faster than what he could think he grabs your wrists to pin your hands over your head. His breath hitches and his heart skips a beat when your eyes meet again, only then he starts to move.

"I love you" he lets out after a few moments, letting go of your hands, his voice is low too low.

"I love you too" You nod, noticing the tears rolling down his cheeks and softly wiping them away with your thumbs.

He brushes it off, he's not ready for this-all of this intimacy. He doesn't stop though, he just moves away to stand upright, throwing your legs over his shoulders. You moan when you feel how much deeper he could go like this. He can't help himself around you, every wall he put up to distance himself from others disappear whenever you were around. It wouldn't matter how much you lied to him, or how much you hurt him, you took his heart and it would stay with you no refunds. I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm all yours, he wants to say but wouldn't bear the thought of you not saying the same so he'd keep it to himself.  

"What-what's wrong?" You ask in a whisper when his movement falters, your cheeks flushed. You are so close.

"Nothing, just keep taking me like that pretty girl" The nickname makes you go crazy, now? He used to call you that only because he knew how much it embarrassed you. Unlucky for you, he liked seeing you flustered.

" 'M close, Jay" you whine, and he lowers a hand right where you needed it, the added pressure throwing you over the edge.

The way you feel around him is enough to push him over the edge mere seconds later, coming undone with a string of whispers of your name, again and again like a prayer. His head falls on your chest as you both try to catch your breath. Him wrapping his arms around your waist, holding himself closer to you if that was even possible as you pressed kisses to the top of his head.

*.*

"Hey, Jay" You call out to him in a hoarse whisper "are you awake?"

You get no answer from his sleeping form next to you, at some point you decide to trace his figure with your fingers, as if it'd help you remember him when you leave. You start with his jaw, then to his neck and his shoulders, feeling the rough skin under your fingertips. He really ought to buy some moisturizer, you scoff to yourself. You press a kiss between his shoulder blades before working your way down his arm. Your eyes got a bit teary looking at his scars, the carved out H+J in heart, the long slashes, the burn scar over his right shoulder. He had been through so much and he was still alive and kicking, sleeping next to you. You wish you could've come for him sooner, you didn't blame him for hating Batman. Hell you even had a few run-ins of your own with him because of it. Batman's own grief be damned he was supposed to be the world's greatest detective looking for his partner , the teenager he got to join him and the kid he was meant to take care of . He wasn't supposed to replace him that easily, it made you feel like you were the only one who cared about Jason. All this suffering he went through... it could've been helped, he didn't have to endure that. Your mind wanders to what that psycho did to him, if it was even worse than what you were put through, if he begged him to finish the job, the sight of him covered in blood- his own blood, beaten and branded, his empty eyes when you first saw him and then the flash of hope when he saw you which quickly washed away when he realized that you were there too.

You have to push back the images of what was done to you too, before you feel like you're outside of your body again or that you lose your grip on reality, again. You would never admit it to him but after he left the safe house you were brought back to the headquarters and couldn't get out of bed for almost six months, nothing felt real, your own thoughts felt too slow, your body too heavy too move. A major depressive episode, that's what your superiors classified it as. You knew it wasn't losing him that triggered it, it was the added of weight you'd been caring on your shoulders for too long and the fact that now you had nothing in your life that you even liked. Normaly they would've force-fed antidepressants to whatever agent that went through what you did but you wouldn't let anyone get closer than 2 meters, freezing more than one poor medic or nurse that was sent to see you. Or when they got to you and you reversed the effects of it, just out of spite. Eventually they gave up and waited as not even threats to your sister phased you. "Kill her and see how it goes for you," you said on a rare day where you found yourself able to speak "you'll have nothing to keep me here"

"What are you doing?" You don't even register him asking. He turns to face you and he notices you crying, only then do you realize he's awake so you wipe your tears as fast as you can. It is good for nothing, he already knows you're crying.

"I'm sorry, 's not the best thing to wake up to, huh?" You chuckle trying to pass off your own wave of sadness that just hit you.

"What's wrong?" He insists, was it him that made you so upset?

"Nothing's wrong, Jason" You lie, and he can see right through it.

"No, come on... keep going" He's using that tone again, the one that has you weakening every resolve and your knees giving out just to give him whatever he asked for, that whiny and needy voice that was reserved just for you. He also takes your hand and pushes it to his chest, wanting you to take off from where you left. Instead you move your hand underneath his to hold it, fingers interlocked as you leave a soft kiss to his knuckles. The feel of your lips on his skin, his harsh and calloused skin that has only known violence, has him blushing.

"I have to leave," you state, finally breaking the bubble you two were in since he took you to his office "I'd empty this place asap if I were you"

He steals a look at the watch behind him, the hours he spent with you are still on a single digit, that's all he gets with you. You get up, looking for your clothes that had been discarded all over the room mere hours ago.

"Fine" he scoffs, sitting on the bed and crossing his arms over his chest. Acting all tough and annoyed as the wound of you leaving reopens. He knows you'll never change your ways, he should've known you were heartache from the moment he met you. Jason knew nothing had changed, he doesn't know why he was even sad about you not choosing to stay with him. "Will I ever see you again?"

There's a beat of silence, you have your back turned to him so he can't see what kind of face you're making but he can see how you're pulling your pants up your ass. "I hope so, that was..." you puff and fan yourself with a hand.

He grabs your wrist when you get closer to the bed looking for your shoes, a sigh of your name has your gaze softening as you look back at him. Your lips pull up in a smile, caressing his face and sitting on his lap over the sheets."Bludhaven, find me there when you're done with whatever this is"

He nods, a hand of his going to your nape. He's trying to make you stay a little longer, even if it's just for a few moments and you know it so you give his scared cheek a sweet kiss. Find me when you're done with whatever this is, he can do that. He can wait a few more weeks for you.

"Where-" he starts, but you're no longer there. He felt your weight on him just a moment ago and now you were gone, he didn't even see your eyes light up before you made your way out of the place. You were probably on your way back, lying through your teeth about what you've been up to. And to that he sighs, getting up to get dressed and thinks "I've got to get my shit together, haven't worked this much for nothing"

A/N: not to copy paste all of my author's notes but I referenced like 3 songs so if you notice lmk :D

[jennapancake]

Love Made Me Crazy

Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader

Part 1 of 2

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, Reader is referred to as y/n and as female, kissing, implications of death, not proof-read.

Summary: Aphrodite children are required to break their first loves heart in order to avoid tragedy. What happens when reader breaks luke castellans heart in order to save him when he's already on the edge.

A/n: Hi this is my first time ever writing so please be nice. I'm trying my best. Thank you for reading!

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

The tears poured as I stared at the lake in front of me. The inability to determine if it were the sobs that raked my body or the cold night air causing me to shiver as I prayed to the goddess I knew to be my mother. I prayed for her to spare me from this "initiation" as she calls it. To spare me from having to break my best friends heart in order to save him and myself.

Luke had been my best friend since the day I set foot in camp. It was 5 years ago. Luke had arrived not long before me, but he still chose to show me around camp. The boy and I became close after that and even closer when the two of us continued to stay in the Hermes cabin as his father claimed him and my godly parent refused to be asserted with me in any way. The comfort shared between us both was hardly unnoticed but it drew our bond close.

And yet now, I have to break this bond we share due to some horrible rule my mother has set for her children. The same rule she set for me, the child she ignored for almost a year after I set foot in this camp.

"Please mom just this once favor me and my choices and allow me to avoid breaking both his heart and mine. Allow me to stay with him without the consequences please." I'd been sobbing prayers like this since the sun set. I knew it was useless. I knew I wouldn't get a response and even if I did it would never be in my favor.

"y/n?" I don't know how long it had been since I strayed from my siblings at dinner to sit here but I knew it had been hours as Drew came up behind me. "Are you okay?" The girl asked, a gentle hand on my shoulder as she sat next to me.

"I'm okay" I nodded, quickly wiping the tears that stained my cheeks. "Just admiring the lake and some alone time ya know?" I let out a fake laugh that sounded almost like a sob as I turned to look at the girl.

"It's about the rule, isn't it?" She asked, a sympathetic look clouding her beautiful features. I nodded in response to which she pulled me close. "It'll be okay. I know you love him but it's better than meeting a horrific end." She says and I know she's right and I know I have to do it soon. "Silena and I will be there to help you through it too. We won't let you go through this alone."

"I know. Its just hard knowing we have to end just because of some stupid rule my mother made. Just another reason why for our parents to dictate our lives." I sniffled and she nodded, combing her fingers through my hair to calm me.

"I understand, love. Its just another reason why our parents won't be winning any parent of the Year awards. However I'd rather you get both your hearts broke than lose you to a Shakespearean level tragic ending." She says, the eye roll evident in her tone as she says the last few words.

I know she's been through this before with other siblings. But even if love doesn't kill me how does she know the next quest won't.

"I just want you to be happy and alive. You'll find other men who will love you, you're a daughter of Aphrodite after all."

But I don't want anyone else.

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

The next morning....

I had made up my mind or at least I thought I had stopped by training to see Luke before breakfast and his counselor duties.

"Luke!" I called a smile on my face. I had decided to risk it all. I was in love and nothing could break us apart, not after three years pining after each other and almost a full year together. I was not letting us go.

Luke smiled at me, telling his class to take a break as he ran over to me. Except right before he got to me an Apollo kid was disarmed and the blade of his sword was mere inches from Luke's head, landing right in front of my feet.

The smile draining from my face as I wondered if this was a coincidence. I know I was told there was little time left before an ending began to appear but was it really starting now. Were these the warning signs?

I pushed those thoughts away as the boy came closer after scolding the kids. "Hey, are you okay?" He asked, grabbing both my cheeks gently and giving me a worried look as he checked me for any injuries.

"I'm fine," I gave him a reassuring smile "I should be the one asking if you're okay. That sword almost took your head off." I gestured to the sword with my head as the boy chuckled.

"Yeah, Apollo kids aren't the best with swords." He joked but shook his head, "but I'm all good. Especially now that I get to see you." He smirked before pulling me into a kiss.

That was only the first straw in one big hay barrel that was today. Throughout the day, I almost drowned, Luke almost got run over by a group of centaurs, I almost got shot by archers since no one told me they moved the archery field, and Luke almost fell into the rack of spears.

And all of this happened before lunch.

"Silena you don't understand. I thought it'd be okay if we stayed together but everything is falling apart today. Luke and I have been in so many dangerous positions today it's insane." I practically yelled as the girl brushed my hair.

"Are you sure you're not overthinking everything? It was a rough night for you. Maybe you're just seeing the everyday dangers more today?" Silena was always the voice of reason but I knew it was just excuses to comfort me.

Silena never wanted Luke and me to break up. As she put it we were her best accomplishment and the cutest couple at camp, all thanks to her help for finally getting us together.

"Sil, you and I both know it's starting. I can't lose him cause of my own selfishness. I'm gonna have to break up with him." I say, tears filling my eyes at the thought.

"or you could tell him the truth and let him decide your fate?" She shrugs and I shake my head.

"I know what he'll choose and I can't do that to him. I can't let him decide to be with me when it'll result in the end for both of us."

My mind was made up.

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

Luke and I were sat on the docks, the cool breeze of the night blowing between us as we stared at the star in silence, until Luke spoke up and the end began.

"So what did you want to talk about that was so important?" He asked, a small smile on his face as he glanced at me, the hand he was holding between us, squeezed mine tightly until I forced myself to pull it from his hold.

"oh uh, Luke I don't know how to say this.." I sighed as I played with my camp necklace to comfort myself as I spoke to the boy in front of me.

"Hey it's okay. " The boy reached out the touch my arm "Whatever it is we'll get through it together." He smiled gently which only caused my heart to ache more.

I shook my head and stood up quickly in order to look away from the boy and take my chance to pace on the dock as I do the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.

And that's saying a lot seeing as a fought two minotaurs at once.

"Luke we need to break up." I said as quickly as possible, knowing if I didn't blurt it out the words would never come.

"woah what?" The boy quickly stood to come over to me "y/n what do you mean we need to?"

"I mean we can't be together anymore, Luke." I said, tears forming in my eyes as I look up at him.

"Why? I thought we were doing good. Whatever it is we can work through it. Just talk to me. Why so suddenly are you saying this?" Luke asks, tears filling his water line and I shake my head.

"This isn't something we can get out of, Luke. This is something we have to go through in order for me to protect you. I'm sorry, Luke."

And so I ran in order to avoid any more questions, in order to avoid changing my mind, in order to protect the boy I was crazy in love with.

I would have risked my life for him if it meant getting to stay with him for all eternity but I couldn't bring myself to risk his life for a life on the run from a never ending tragedy.

If only I wasn't an Aphrodite Kid....

End of Part 1.

Next part will be Luke's POV and where more of a dark Luke esc will come in and as well as the aftermath of the moment. Again thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

[demenior]

marion/babenon/vandran was one of those headcanons where i heard it for the first time and immediately accepted it as truth, but i'd love to hear more of ur thoughts on it -- how do u picture vandran getting folded into marion and babenon? are there particular parts of their dynamic that u really like, or really see as a cornerstone? anything else u want to talk abt wrt them?

I started the concept of the Parent Trap Trio as a joke, mostly because I thought it would be funny for Fjord n Jester to have to deal with their parents getting married* or just the utter childish horror of having your parents brazenly flirting with each other.

And then suddenly it wasn't a joke. As a note, all of my thoughts for the trio are specific to the Fealty Series, which means it may or may not match canon.

To start you should read the light that you will see at evening by Capitola because they basically nailed how I imagine the first introduction between Babenon, Marion and Vandran going, as well as several little background details.

(this would be because Capi has been my co-conspirator for the Fealty series, and is also just a great writer)

* (I don't think any of them are the marrying type)

And then thoughts/details/concepts in no particular order:

Vandran and Babenon knew of each other while they were both in the Revelry. They were never on the same crew, and never close, but were aware of each other and their reputations

Considering Vandran's last love tried to kill him/he had to fake his death to escape her, he's a little hesitant to get involved in anything serious

Marion and Babenon are the only ones allowed to call Vandran by his first name (James) as a sign of intimacy. He will always refer to Marion as 'Miss Lavorre' as a sign of respect (until they're in private)

Babenon usually gets referred to as 'Mr. Dosal' for the same reason.

In the Fealty series we see a lot of similar behaviours between Vandran and Fjord (because they're father and son), where they feel their worth is tied to their masculinity which is tied to how much they can provide for/care for the person they care about (this is absolutely tied up to some toxic masculinity, but as the Fealty series explores, this is also how they both express their gender AND their affection and therefore very important for both Fjord and Vandran)

By this metric, Vandran has a lot of hang-ups about the wealth disparity between him and Marion (and Babenon, who is Marion's trophy boyfriend). He has a livable wage for an old bachelor, but certainly not for courting a Lady (or her trophy boyfriend) and he struggles with his pride about it

The three of them are all people that scrambled and fought hard to earn the life they have now- while they may not be upfront about the details of their past and where they came from- they can recognize that sharp edge in each other

Vandran does not actually live in the Chateau! Marion has offered for him to move in, or to rent a room to him, but he insists on maintaining his own apartment. It's a point of pride for him (see above re: masculinity).

Vandran does not wear a sword in A Lady's home (as this would be an insult to her in many ways- implying her home is not safe, or implying that he could be a threat at any time).

Marion and Babenon do not consider themselves 'high class' by any means, but they are accustomed to fitting in with high(er) society more than Vandran is

If Babenon needs to force Vandran into wearing something that he and/or Marion have purchased for Vandran, all he has to do is say something along the lines of 'you wouldn't want to embarass Marion, would you?' because Vandran can easily be trapped by social convention

They are all aware that if Vandran wanted out he could just stop coming to the Chateau

Babenon hires a personal barber to come to the Chateau for all of his personal styling (shaving, haircuts, etc). He insists that Vandran come along 'because I'm paying for it already', and since Fjord lives in the Chateau he joins in.

It wasn't meant to be, but Boy Time Spa Day became a Big Event in the household and the women leave them alone for it. Marion and Jester think it's SO cute. They got the boys matching robes.

Boy Time Spa Day is the most time Fjord and Vandran spend together outside of work, and the leading cause for them having any kind of good relationship

Vandran and Marion have a book club and enjoy talking books over a glass of scotch

As Vandran was once a) a notorious pirate and b) an established businessman on the coast, Babenon has engaged him to aid in helping Babenon make inroads towards connecting with different criminal factions.

Due to several previously mentioned factors, Vandran almost completely rejected being courted, and nearly left Nicodranas. It's only because Marion is so good at what she does that she was able to keep him from disappearing.

Marion and Vandran's only major point of contention is Vandran's relationship with Fjord. He insists he's not Fjord's father, while she insists that he is. It's the only thing Vandran will fight her on.

Vandran, like Fjord (used to be), will always say one thing (the polite, expected thing), and then may act completely different. This is how he let Marion and Babenon play flirty chicken on him, by telling them "no I'm not interested" and then continuing to return to visit.

Marion and Vandran both wear solid social masks- ie: they maintain a clear facade of what people expect of them, and reserve their true selves for their private moments, and may not even remove these masks in front of people they love. They recognize this in each other, and there's a kindrid spirit there.

Babenon and Vandran are actually best boy friends. Sometimes this infuriates Babenon, such as when Vandran insists that the shirt he slept in is fine to go to a meeting in. But they both have a huge flair for the dramatic. If Babenon is out of the Chateau for anything, he will usually try and get Vandran to come along with him.

The two men have some feelings about Marion's line of work, but have an understanding that work is work, and she's the most successful of all of them. They often attend her performances together.

Even though Marion has Bluud, Babenon and Vandran have an understanding that if she is entertaining a client (specifically for sex, which is not all the time, as this is the only time Bluud would be outside the room, and not in it with her and her client), one of them must be close enough to intervene in the chance that there is any kind of danger

Marion, and Bluud, have insisted that this has literally never happened in the Chateau's history. Bluud finds this a point of pride that they don't think he can do his job, Marion backs Bluud up but secretly appreciates the gesture.

That being said, if they ever actually interrupted her with a client she would kill them. She is running a VERY professional business, thank you.

Babenon and Vandran have a better understanding of the complications of their status as 'fathers' in Fjord and Jester's lives, one that Marion thinks they're both "idiots" (her words) about. Babenon is Jester's biological father, but he won't claim the role as he wasn't there to help raise or support her. Vandran technically raised Fjord (hired Fjord when Fjord was ~14-16ish, until Fjord was ~28-30ish), and he mentored Fjord, but he doesn't think he has any right to call himself a father, as he doesn't believe he's added anything good to Fjord's life.

They've been "together" for maybe a year now? (For reference, the Fealty series is ~3 years post-campaign, I think). It took a long time for things to move anywhere beyond flirting, and then there was the crisis where Vandran almost faked his death again and disappeared. Even still, they aren't really 'defined' so much as they are enjoying their time together and taking each day at a time.

Marion wants this to be long-term. But she's waiting to bring it up so that Vandran doesn't panic and run away again.

The "relationship" is a bit of an open secret with Fjord and Jester, if only because Fjord and Jester don't need to know ALL the details of their relationship. The parents can keep a few things, just for themselves. Also, both Vandran and Babenon are a wee bit uncomfortable flaunting anything sexual in front of the kids. Marion is willing to go along with their wishes, though she doesn't see the issue.

You will note that both Marion and Jester are incredibly sex positive and don't share their partners' shame around sex.

While they do have an active sex life, their relationship is based more around companionship. The three of them will be up long into the nights/even into the mornings based on conversations and debates. These are occasionally interrupted with kisses and other things, but not always.

They have been SO excited for Fjord and Jester to finally leave on their trip so that they can have sex all over the house

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Okay but. Bruce going to watch his wife in court?

Another trial of the century of the week.

Another over sensationalized case.

A false flag. A smoke screen. And Bruce knew as he watched you get ready that morning that you were pissed. Your mental crosshairs were aligned and you were ready to go.

You hadn't wanted this case. Your client, a young woman who murdered her boyfriend had been difficult to work with from the start. She thought she was a gangster. She thought she could orchestrate a bunch of things from jail.

But all she'd managed to do was hamstring herself. And you. The best you could do was keep her from the death penalty. Life without parole was on the table. Harvey was playing hard ball. And from what Bruce understood, you didn't blame him.

All they were missing was a literal smoking gun on their side. But even with reasonable doubt... if she didn't stop fake crying and trying to slander the man she killed, it wouldn't matter. At this rate all you could hope for was a retrial on the grounds that some of the police work was less than stellar- but you had to be careful playing that gambit because burning bridges with Gordon was going to make things a massive pain in the ass the next time you needed a favor. Or to strong arm him into doing something about bad cops.

Bruce could see it all in your head like a chess board. But all you had was a handful of pawns that you couldn't get across the board. Still. You were putting up a good fight. Doing the duty you were charged with. Providing for the best interests for the person you were defending.

The confidence. The arguments. He could see you WORK. Even from his seat in the gallery, where he sat to stay mostly out of sight- not wanting to add more pressure for you- he could see the intensity.

It definitely did something for him. Smart women were his biggest weakness. Smart. Driven. Brave. God he loved you. And he couldn't wait for you to get home.

[callsigndragon]

The Christmas Date | Chapter 10: Santa's coming for us

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Fem!Kerner!Reader

(Ron Kerner is Slider, Iceman’s backseater)

Wordcount: 2.3k

Summary: Y/n “Athena” Kerner and Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw hate each other. Everybody knows. What happens when they have to fake date for a whole week to avoid Iceman and Slider’s matchmaking plans?

(there won’t be smut in this series)

Warnings: this one is a bit angsty, y'all. FLASHBACK CHAPTER. mentions of comma, death, wanting to give up, mention of carole's death, funeral, Rooster trying to pull Thena's papers. fluff at the end.

A/N: i managed to finish this chapter and here it is, for all of you to enjoy (been working on it for more than a week, don't think i forced my self 🤍). Italics are all events from the past.

Taglist:@ducks118 @milestellerwife @craftymoonchaos @littlebadariell  @xoxabs88xox @alexxavicry  @tayrae515  @shrimping-for-all  @mak-32  @my-soulmate-is-mycroft  @harper1666  @purplevortexx  @abaker74  @ssprayberrythings  @melllinaa  @loveless-simp  @k-k0129  @mygyn  @castle-bookworms-world  @chaoticversion  @one-sweet-gubler  @loveforaugust

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Years ago

It took three days for Bradley to wake up. He could hear everyone. When the nurses came in to check his constants. Whenever one of his "uncles" stood beside the bed, praying for him to not give up. 

The young Bradshaw—the only Bradshaw left—was left without any reason to live. He didn't remember his father, being too young to have any clear memory left. He had lost his mother; she was like the sun, with a beautiful smile always shining until the very end. What did he have left? His father's friends, who had always looked at him with pity in their eyes? His friend, if he could still consider her so, was now lying in bed on the other side of the room. She would soon realize that he had destroyed her life, and she wouldn't want to breathe the same air as him. 

He didn’t have anything to live for anymore. 

And then, just as he was about to slip into the darkness that surrounded him, he heard a voice. Not any voice. The voice that cheered for him louder than the rest in the football matches. The sweet voice that wished him good luck before taking the last of his exams at high school. A voice he could replay in his mind at any time because it was the only sound he would have wanted to hear for the rest of his life if given the opportunity. 

Her voice. 

Y/n. 

At first, he thought she was only trying to give him strength to wake up, even though the first thing he would have to face once he walked out of the hospital was a funeral. When he heard your sweet, heartfelt confession, he could almost feel your insides breaking at the thought of you losing someone you love. He knew how you felt, and if he could, he would do anything to spare you the agony. He had felt that for two years before his mom's body stopped fighting for her. The pain became like a friend, always there to greet him when he came back home from class, wishing him good night when the nightmares invaded his sleep; it was always there. And he didn't want you to feel like that. 

Rooster had lost that fear, only to find another one. What if he decided to fight and live just for you to hate him in the future? Would he be able to overcome that? No, he couldn't just make you his only reason to live. That wouldn't be fair for any of you. You were his reason to fight—to survive in a world that had nothing left for him. He would need to find new reasons to live. 

For hours, he considered all the possible options for his future. He should finish college first. That’s what his mother would have wanted. Maybe he could become an aviator like his dad. It was the dream that he had to leave aside to spend time with Carole. Now that she was gone, he could do it. He could become an aviator like his father and his uncles. And you would be at his side. 

Yes, that looked like a good future. 

For reasons that not even Bradley understood, when he woke up the next morning, he acted like nothing happened. Like Y/n didn’t confess her feelings. A part of him was afraid that she only confessed out of fear, that perhaps she wasn’t prepared yet. He could wait. 

Y/n was beside him at Carole’s funeral. She couldn’t walk properly yet; she was in a wheelchair. But her hand was wrapped around his all the time. It was all the strength he needed. 

Her hand on his. 

“I am waiting to hear back from the Naval Academy” 

That’s not the answer Bradley expected to hear when Maverick asked you what your plans were after high school. Not even a breath could be heard when you dropped that information. 

“When did you apply?” Slider asked, leaving the fork on his plate. 

“In May,” you said under your breath, shy due to all the sudden attention. 

“Were you ever gonna tell us?” your mom questioned while getting up from her chair and walking towards you with long steps. Rooster thought for a second, judging from her body language, that she was going to slap her daughter. "What were you waiting for, Y/n? How could you decide that without me and your father?" 

"My life isn't for you to decide, mom. Not anymore" 

"Terry, she's right," Slider sighed, kissing your forehead and whispering, "Have you thought carefully about it?" 

"Yes, dad. I want to be like you," you confessed, shiny eyes filled with emotion.

"Honey, I know that you are able to do anything you set your mind to, but…"

Rooster knew that the words following that weren't the ones you wanted to hear. 

"But?" 

"Maybe that's not a place for a girl," Slider stated, grabbing your hand between his. Your eyes quickly lose the emotion Bradley had previously noticed in them, as if it had never existed. 

"You don't think I can make it?" 

"I didn't say that" 

Whatever explanation Slider planned to give died on his lips when you ran away from the house. 

Bradley found himself feeling the fear that tightened around his heart. He never thought you were incapable of being an aviator. In fact, he knew that you would be an amazing one. If anything, he thought that you would be very limited in the back seat position. You were made to be in control, to be in the front seat, and to feel the adrenaline while twirling around in the sky. He could imagine your smile while doing it; you had it in your blood. 

However, the fear of you having an accident just like his father and losing you forever—that was a feeling he couldn't shake off. Fear makes us do a lot of things that we shouldn't. And walking into Iceman's office to beg him to pull your papers was one of the things he shouldn’t have done.

"You want me to do what?" He repeated, wanting to make sure that he had heard Bradley asking him to betray his goddaughter. 

"I can't risk losing her, Tom." Bradley begged, tears in his eyes, "it's the only thing I have left. She can’t be a backseater." 

Iceman sighed, knowing that whatever his decision, he would lose one of his kids. "Bradley, I know you think you don't have anyone left but you have to look around and see all the people who love you and care fo-" 

"She's like the stars." Bradley breathed, not wanting to go as far as having to confess his feelings. “Dad was the moon, and Mom was the sun. Y/n is like the stars, Tom. She lights up the dark night I’ve been living since my mom died, and I can’t lose that light. She’s always guiding me to follow the right path. Just like Polaris, always pointing to the north. She’s my Polaris.” 

“Pull her papers, and you will extinguish her light, son.” 

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“You love her” concluded Iceman, eyes staring into Bradlye’s ones, reading his soul like an open book.  

“I love her. And I’m so scared to lose someone else I love, Ice,” he choked up, all his feelings coming to the surface as he allowed himself to be vulnerable for the first time in months. He tried to be brave for months, hiding his emotions and not wanting to be a burden for anyone. 

Ice walked around the table to give Bradley a hug. The mask that the young man had been wearing since the funeral had fallen at last. He was just a boy who had been raised by the most loving woman he had ever met and was now learning to navigate in this world without her. 

“Let me give you some advice, Bradley. If you love someone, you have to trust that they make the right choices and support them” 

“Even this one?” Bradley mumbled while looking at the floor. He was too embarrassed to look at Iceman with his tear-stained face. 

“Especially this one, son,” the older man claimed, patting the younger man’s shoulder. “Now, go out there and forget about pulling Y/n’s papers. If she gets accepted or no, only time will tell” 

“You wanted to pull my papers?” 

The voice that once brought him back to life, so filled with pain and love at the thought of losing him, was then quiet, cold, and numb. She begged him to stay with him for months only for him to betray her in this way. How could he? What made him believe that he had anything to say in the matter? 

“Y/n, listen, it’s not what you think...” Bradley muttered, afraid he had lost her in the effort to hold onto the last remaining source of light in his life. 

“Not what I think? There’s no other possible explanation, Bradshaw” 

Bradshaw. Not Bradley. Bradshaw. His long name had never felt like an insult, but right now it felt like a bullet straight through his heart. Did she just hear the last part of the conversation? 

“Y/n, please, listen to me” 

"Don't ever talk to me again.” 

And then she turned around and left, while Bradley fell to his knees. Iceman stood there, knowing that it didn’t matter if he tried to explain what happened in that room—Bradley really tried to pull Y/n’s papers. He thought about it, and he wanted to do it. The damage was done the second he asked for it. Only time could make you forgive him, if you ever decided to. If not, well, there wasn’t anything he could do. 

Only time could tell. 

“You only heard part of the conversation, Thena,” Bradley says, sitting down next to you. His hands are itching to touch you, but he knows he can’t. 

“I heard Iceman saying that you needed to forget about pulling my papers, Roos” 

“But you never heard why I asked him to do it” he insists. He wants you to know. If you are about to start a serious relationship, he wants all the secrets out in the open. 

You move your body, facing him, your eyes hinting at both fear and curiosity at the same time. “Tell me” 

“I was afraid of losing you in an accident, just like I lost my father. You wanted to be a backseater like your dad. When you’re in the back, you can’t control the aircraft; you are at someone else’s mercy. You not being in control of your own aircraft scared the shit out of me, grouchy. You were the only thing I had left,” he finally confesses, his lips pressed in a thin line, worried that his answer will make you more angry. 

“I understand that you were scared, but it wasn’t your decision,” you say, sighing and moving your hand slightly in his direction. 

“Iceman made me realize that. He made it clear that I could only support your decision to join the Navy.  

“So you… you didn’t want to pull my papers anymore?” 

"Not after hearing Ice say that. He had convinced me that when we love someone, we have to trust that they make the best decisions” 

You whisper, "You never tried to explain yourself, nugget," as your hand, which had been painfully edging toward Rooster's during the conversation, now tentatively touches his. 

“How could I? Was there any possible way that you would have forgiven me for what I tried to do?” he whispers back, as if this conversation was supposed to be kept a secret from the rest of the world. Nobody knows what Rooster did, everyone thinks that you two just fell apart, no longer being the two kids that gravitated towards each other. 

“No, not really”

“But I was there with you, every step of the way, after I got out of college. And then we met again at Top Gun”

"And we bickered like children," you laugh, your hand now completely encircling his. 

"It's what we've always done, fly girl." 

You nod, slowly closing that chapter of your life. You know that deep down, a part of you will always remember that he tried to put an end to your career before it had even begun. There’s no possible way that you can forget that. You forgave him years ago, but you will never forget. It doesn’t matter that his choices were based on fear. The damage was done, and the scar was there, invisible to the human eye, but marked in your soul. 

Rooster lifts your hand to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles. “Will you be able to forgive me?” 

“I already did, Roos. I love you too much to stay mad at you” 

“Did you say you love me?” Rooster asks, his face heating up and reddening like Rudolph’s nose. 

“... I thought it was obvious” 

“I m-mean it was 15 years ago, but I didn’t know you loved me now,” he stutters, suddenly feeling like a teenager in front of his crush. 

“Oh, nugget, don’t go shy on me now,” you joke, poking his cheek.

“Don’t tease me!” he whines, making you laugh. “I love you too, dumbass”

You can’t understand how you’re able to laugh after Solo and his obsessive behavior, but it feels good to shake that feeling away. Tomorrow you will go to the police station and report him, putting an end to his crazy activities. 

Tonight, however, you are spending quality time with the man you love. 

[romewritingshop]

Main Tera (Pt. 2 Final)

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Brown Indian Female Reader

Tropes: Childhood lovers, Exes-to-lovers, Fake dating, co-workers-to-lovers, wedding

Warning: Toxic family members, talks of death, weddings, fake dating, swear words, aggressive behaviour, talks of abandonment and grief,

MASTERLIST

A/N: Pt. 2 is here and this is the final part. A little smutty short story will be next so stay tuned for that. This is a little shorter than the other one but I had to cut down somewhere. I have to say, I like writing about this couple. They're a good dynamic. @weebotaku21 Tagged you in because I really liked your compliments for the last one so here you go!

Thanks and I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think! Follow, comment or reblog, IDC because I enjoy writing this fic. Please pay attention before reading.

"Let me go, Nanami!"

(Y/N) huffed as their rental car began to drive off. Haibara was in the driver seat with Daadi on the passenger seat, she herself trying so hard to not tear up. Nanami was in the back, holding onto (Y/N)'s wrists. Nanami huffed rather exasperatedly as he let go of her wrists.

"There."

She glared at her blonde co-worker.

"Why did you pull me away?"

"Because you were going to explode at your cousin's wedding."

(Y/N) folded her arms and leaned right into Nanami's face.

"Maybe I should have. She deserves it after she brought that man out."

"No you wouldn't. You're not a cruel person."

She raised an eyebrow at his claim.

"What makes you sure? I'm not that same girl that you knew thirteen years ago."

Nanami huffed in laughter, leaning back on his seat.

"In the one year of working with you, I beg to differ. You're exactly the same."

(Y/N) bared her teeth at Nanami, tempted to just sink her teeth into his jugular. It was useless trying to argue with a man like him. It didn't take long for them to reach the house as they all got out of the car.

(Y/N) rushed in first, heading up the stairs and to the room that she was sharing with Daadi. Crouching down to go under the bed to pull out their suitcase. She went to the drawers, grabbing her clothes as tossing them into the suitcase. Daadi, Haibara and Nanami reached the door to see her begin packing.

"Daadi pack your bags. We're leaving."

The three of them shared apprehensive expressions with each other. None of them moved from their position which made (Y/N) repeat herself. A soft exhale left Daadi’s lips as she entered the room to sit on the bed.

"We're not going."

"Erm, why not? We've bared and faced enough embarrassment for one night. 'Sides I, a hundred percent know, that Tina will not want us at the wedding. We'll be doing her a favour."

"Embarrassment is natural, it's not a good enough reason to run away. And whatever she is, Tina is your cousin. You grew up with her so you can't just drop and leave."

"I didn't grow up with her."

"We stayed with them for at least five years and you've visited her a lot in the past. Don't give me rubbish excuses."

(Y/N) stopped packing as she stood up over Daadi, leaning over her. Nanami twitched and was about to walk forward when Haibara shoved a hand in front of him. A silent warning to let the scene in front of them unfold.

"Why are you so adamant to stay?"

Daadi looked down, fiddling with her fingers and it was the first time in (Y/N)'s life that she had no words to say. It hit her quick in a flash as her jaw dropped and she stumbled back.

"I hope you're not thinking of what I'm thinking."

"Please!"

"I am not talking to him."

"Just give him a chance."

"A chance for what? So that he can walk out again when I need him most. I don't need him in my life."

Daadi huffed in frustration. Not able to get through (Y/N)'s bull headed mind. Nanami's brain lit like a light bulb as he stepped into the room to help Daadi, knowing he will be rebuked.

"How are you sure? You can't know unless you don't try."

Staring incredulously at Nanami, she propped her hands on her hips.

"Erm I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to Daadi."

Daadi was about to open her mouth but Nanami held up a hand for her to let him handle this. Instead he glanced over his shoulder, requesting Daadi.

"Can you please give us a moment?"

"I'm not talking to you Nanami!"

Haibara furrowed his eyebrows, feeling rather conflicted but one look from Nanami made him nod as he held out a hand for Daadi. 

"Daadi!"

Daadi glanced up nervously but still followed Haibara out of the room. The door closed behind them as Nanami loomed over her with a surprisingly unphased expression. He cleared his throat.

"How long are you gonna spend the rest of your life being miserable?"

"For as long as I live. My life was fine without him. Like I said, I don't need him."

Nanami huffed but he had a suspicious grin on his face as he massaged his forehead, stuffing his hands into his trouser pocket. The way he was acting, strolling around and just being physically there was making her ears flare up with heat.

"Why is that so fucking funny?"

"Just this entire situation reminds me of something that happened many … years … ago."

Before she could ask what the situation was, he derailed the conversation to a completely different topic.

"Do you remember the day you left me?"

What? Why was he remembering that day?

"What does that have-"

"Please humour me."

She raised an eyebrow but went to her vanity to take off her jewellery. It certainly felt awkward to admit she remembered that day, every single moment of her life. Reminding her about the biggest mistake she had made in her life. Instead of saying it face to face, she responded through the mirror.

"I do."

"You never clearly told me why. All you said was that you were going back to India to be with family but you never came back. I lost contact with you. It was enough of a sign that you left me. So why did you end our relationship?"

She pursed her lip, having gotten rid of her jewellery. This wasn't the time as she glanced up, her anger once again flaring up as she snarled.

"This doesn't have anything to do with what we were talking about."

"Why are you so scared to answer this question?"

"Nanami!"

"I believe I have enough of a right to know why."

"Drop it, Nanami!"

"I gave you time and space last time and that made me let you go. Not this time! I'm not letting you go."

In that moment, something snapped in her mind as she swung around and stepped to him. Jabbing him with her words as he held her face high.

"DROP IT NANAMI!"

"Why did you leave?"

"Because I didn't want to lose you too!"

Nanami flinched from the words, stepping as (Y/N) huffed. For the first time in 13 years, the heavy words and decisions she made as a 13/14 year old, circled back. The emotions that weighed her and made her carry a heavy burden were now teardrops streaming down her face.

He could see how tired and exhausted she was from carrying a lot of anger and regret. Using the back of her hand to wipe away the non-stop flow of tears as she rasped.

"You remember the time when my mum died."

The tall blond gave a solemn nod, looking downcast as he remembered that day. It was terrible and he could vividly recall the way (Y/N) shook in his arms when she had told him the news. He even remembered the day of the funeral, everyone had worn white and there was a picture of her with a marigold garland on the frame.

"The day I told you I was going to India, two days before my father dumped me onto Daadi. He said he couldn't bear seeing me because I reminded him too much of my Mum. First my mother, then my father left me. The people I loved were leaving and my mind just escalated to Daadi, Haibara and you leaving me.

"I thought I was cursed and that was why my parents left. I decided then … that if I didn't love much, I wouldn't lose anyone. 'S why I left. I didn't want to lose you too because I loved you."

Nanami gave a nod as she sat down on Daadi's makeshift bed. He sat beside her, allowing her the time to speak her heart which had been closed for years.

"Which is crazy saying because we were only 14 and … love? We were too young…"

 Nanami huffed in a smile as he spoke.

"I don't think so."

(Y/N) finally glanced up into Nanami's eyes, instead of seeing anger and resentment, she could see comfort and adoration in his eyes as his hand enveloped her hand.

"The point I wanted to make (Y/N), was that what happened with me and you was exactly what happened with you and your father. He left you because he loved you too much and was scared of hurting you from his pain of losing your mother.

"But he's come back … and he's trying to rectify that. He at least deserves a chance to be heard out. I guess in a similar fashion I could have done the same as you, when we met again at the office. But I have too much love for you."

Her eyes watered as he gave a soft nod, this made her fully sob, lunging into Nanami's arms. After so many years she finally felt his comforting touch, nuzzling her face into his neck whilst he rubbed her back in an up-down motion. Unbeknownst to them, Daadi and Haibara were peeking through the door, having witnessed everything and finally feeling relieved after days trying to reunite (Y/N) and Nanami.

~~~~

The bustling streets were packed. Nanami had worn a white cotton button up and khaki shorts to combat the sweltering heat in India. Right now he was in a small cafe, sat at two tables away from where (Y/N) was with her father. He had ordered tea and paratha as a light snack, a small smile on his face as he watched the two converse.

It had already been an hour and a half which gave them ample time to reconcile and reconnect. It seemed the conversation came to a close as the two stood up, walking to where Nanami was which made him stand up and wipe his mouth with a table napkin.

(Y/N) had a placid look on her face as she gestured to Nanami.

"This is Kento Nanami. We went to the same school and after many years, ended up working at the same company. Kento, this is my father. He knows Hindi well."

Arjun grinned as Nanami put out a hand to shake but the man stepped forward and pulled the blond Danish-Japanese into a hug. Patting his back heartily before stepping back.

"Thank you. I'm glad I finally got to put a name to a face. Before my wife passed, she told me that you were (Y/N)'s boyfriend. Just know that she really liked you Kento and thought you were great."

Nanami rubbed the back of his head, giving a short bow of gratitude but Arjun's face dropped which made Nanami swallow nervously at the sudden change of mood. Arjun shifted his head to his daughter as he mildly threatened.

"Don't you break this man's heart otherwise your mother will come back to haunt us both."

Nanami laughed nervously while (Y/N)’s lips threatened to break out a smile. Arjun grinned as he reached into his pocket to take out a wallet, fingering it to pick out a few notes as he handed it to his daughter, asking her to go pay. She reluctantly nods and heads to the counter, giving Arjun and Nanami a few minutes alone.

Arjun smiles rather wistfully before advising Nanami.

“Keep doing what you're doing Nanami. Her heart will melt soon. She'll open up to you quicker than she will with me.”

The taller man was confused why Arjun was saying this but before he could delve further, (Y/N) came back and handed her father the change. Arjun bowed his head at his daughter, excusing himself and promising to meet them at the wedding tomorrow.

Now it was just (Y/N) and Nanami as they walked out of the cafe, waiting on the side of a curb for a taxi. His eyes went down to her fingers scratching at the other, he was distracted by her fidgeting that he almost missed what she said.

“Thanks … for taking me to meet my father. And for yesterday's talk.”

Nanami gave a soft nod and smile, hunching down to meet her at eye level.

“No need for thanks. I did it to help you and Daadi.”

“Still.”

A small smile came on Nanami's face as he nudged at her shoulder.

“Are you softening up to your team leader?”

Seeing the way her cheeks flushed with heat and her eyes narrow in embarrassment, bringing the back of her hand to hide her eyes.

“Stop. This isn't like you.”

“True. But I'm only like this when I'm with you.”

He finally managed to bring a smile to her face, pulling her hand away and finally looking Nanami in the eyes.

“Can't deny that. Even when we were young you used to follow me around like a puppy.”

“Well now that is incorrect. You were the one who had big puppy eyes when we were around. Not to forget that you asked me to hang out first.”

“Well you kissed me first so who's the lovesick puppy now!”

They managed to flag a taxi down as it halted in front of them. (Y/N) had a smug grin on her face as she climbed into the taxi. Nanami exhaled rather romantically before he sat down. The taxi drove off and for once (Y/N) sat close to him with her head leaning on his shoulder, her heart already began to melt.

~~~~

(Y/N) pursed her lips as she watched her cousin's friends flit around Tina, helping her with last minute getting-ready things. She could hear the music in the background, some pop Indian song from the latest bollywood movie. Tina looked pretty in her deep red bridal dress, opting to stick with the traditional outfit.

Everyone else was in the hall but her Bua asked (Y/N) to come up and hold the dupatta over her head along with Tina's younger sister Jhanvi and two of Tina's friends. Tina stood up, finally taking note that her cousin was in the room as she smirked.

“Hey, how was your meeting with Arjun Maama at the mehndi? I was so glad that he was able to make it.”

(Y/N) huffed but gave a small smile as she stepped up to fix Tina's outfit. Nothing her cousin would say will affect her now, she's outgrown her cousin's childish ways.

“It was good, thank you. You can now stop with the petty acts of jealousy.”

Tina scoffed, looking around to see if her friends were listening but they weren't. Her friends were too busy taking selfies.

“I don't know what you're talking about (Y/N). I was just trying to do a good thing.”

“Sure if that's the story you want to stick with. There's no need for you to be jealous any more. You have everything now, especially a husband who will spend money on you.” (Y/N) smirked, brushing away lint off Tina's shoulder. “You have a better life than me. An unmarried degree level woman in her late 20s, earning twice the amount your soon-to-be-husband would make. Heck this woman has a boyfriend and not a husband. You're doing way better than me.”

Tina's face flushed almost pale as Bua Payal came in to ask if they were ready. (Y/N)’s smile grew wider, answering her aunt as Bua Payal clapped to hurry everyone into their position. (Y/N) and Jhanvi were holding the dupatta at the front and Tina's friends were holding the back corners. Tina's friends had a basket of rose petals as they began to lead the bride out of the dressing room and to the garden venue.

They slowly marched into the open garden, they were walking on a lush deep blue carpet which lead to a small wedding dais where a priest and Harpreet were sat. Harpreet had a big grin on his face as he watched his bride approach them. Bua Payal and Tina stepped up, as Tina sat down next to Harpreet which signalled to the priest to start the wedding mantras.

(Y/N) folded the dupatta and handed it to Jhanvi before going to sit down on the front row between Nanami and Daadi. The man looked good in Asian wear, sporting a mint green kurta, white stole and white loose pants. He matched (Y/N)’s salwar kameez dress colour which made him happily grin at finally seeing his date.

Daadi too smiled as she leaned into (Y/N)’s ear.

“Did you threaten Tina?”

“No Daadi! Of course not. I simply thanked her and requested her to stop being jealous.”

Daadi rolled her eyes but playfully smiled, praising her for standing up for herself. Nanami snuck a look at (Y/N) only for him to be caught by her which made his cheeks blush. Her hand reached across and interlaced her fingers with his, bringing their hands onto her lap to hold close.

Through the ceremony, they held hands and even when they stood up to shower the couple in strew petals of marigold and roses, they still held hands. Watching her cousin and cousin-in-law take their rounds around the fire, had her mind racing forward. Imagining herself and Nanami walking around and tying their lives together seven times. 

Before she could reach there, she needed to tell Nanami how she felt. While everyone was eating, (Y/N) and Nanami snuck off somewhere back to the hall. She began to fiddle with her dupatta before looking up into Nanami's - Kento's eyes. He stood over her rather patiently, knowing that she would say what she needed to say.

“Do … I want to say I'm sorry for leaving things bitter. It was wrong-”

Before she could say anything further, Kento cupped his hand over her mouth with a slight shake to his head.

“Don't bother. There's no need for regrets.”

She gave a nod and dropped her head again. The words were choking in her throat yet Kento curled a finger underneath her chin and lifted her head up to reconnect eyes. Just so he could give her strength to say her words, which helped and she let go of a shaky breath.

“Then … can we start over? Start again from the beginning.”

“No.”

Her heart pounded loudly at the sudden refusal, shocked that Kento had straightforwardly refused. The shock was short lived as Kento placed his hands on her cheeks.

“Why start again when we can continue from where we left off? Is that okay with you?”

Her eyes dropped to his pink lips, not hesitating to lean in and kiss him. Her eyes shut tight to pour her love into Kento. Her hands slowly came up around his neck whilst his looped around her waist to pull her close. The two of them moved passionately in sync and Kento had to be the one to let go and take a deep breath.

“Does that answer your question?”

A small laugh left Kento's lips as he leaned in again to kiss her. Finally reconnected as the lovers they were meant to be since they were teenagers.

[distort-opia]

I always wonder what woud happen if bruce finally got what he wanted and got joker all figured out. Would he get bored of him? I think thats something that joker himself is scared of

It's definitely something Joker fears, yes. In Batman: Death of the Family, he basically jumps off a cliff rather than hear Bruce utter his name or his history, so panicked that he doesn't even consider that Bruce could be bluffing. As to Bruce figuring Joker out... hah. Arguably, he already has.

Bruce has always been obsessed with understanding Joker, and especially during his first decade as Batman. At the basis of it lies both a need for control and the hope that Joker could be rehabilitated, because if Bruce understands Joker, then maybe he could predict him and prevent his crime sprees. Perhaps Bruce could help Joker, have the leverage of Joker's humanity to use in order to reach him.

Detective Comics #1027 -- Many Happy Returns

It's an essential component of their dynamic: Bruce desperately asking "why?" and Joker laughing in his face, symbolizing both Batman's need for constructing meaning and Bruce's need for connection and understanding. Something that Joker eternally resists.

Batman (2016) #67 -- All The Way Down

But the paradox is that, at the same time, Bruce doesn't entirely want to figure Joker out. This is partly covered by a bigger pattern of behavior for Bruce that I talked about before-- the fact that, despite verbally supporting the rehabilitation of his Rogues, Bruce tends to be mean-spirited, distrustful and paranoid when it actually happens. In many ways he thinks of the Rogues as his; they're all in the dark, they're all wrestling with various kinds of demons, and Bruce includes himself in it. This is most apparent in Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on a Serious Earth, in which Bruce's biggest fear is the fact Arkham would feel like home. So... if the Rogues truly rehabilitated, what then? Where would that leave him? Bruce has a crippling fear of abandonment as a consequence of losing his parents, and it extends to this.

It's true for Joker more than for anyone else, I suppose. Bruce refuses to let Joker die, even in bonkers circumstances in which his code would allow for it. He also has apparently known all along what he needs to do in order to... undo Joker. If Death of the Family established anything, it's that Bruce never needed to kill Joker in order to get him to stop. The end shows that Bruce knows Joker very well, and thus he knows that the thing Joker fears most is the ghost of his own past. All he needed to do was hint that he had uncovered Joker's history, and Joker basically committed suicide. Yet Bruce hasn't used this before, and he hasn't used it against Joker since.

But I absolutely need to mention the controversial and dubiously-canonical Batman: The Three Jokers (intended to be a spiritual successor to Batman: The Killing Joke) that explores the idea that Joker might've been separate people over time (but not really). This comic is disliked for very valid reasons, but it does something very interesting, at least in the realm of the hypothetical: it shows that Bruce has known who Joker was and where his family is all along. Coupled with the fact that this comic specifically connects The Comedian to New 52 and Endgame... it implies that at least in this story, Bruce wasn't bluffing when he said he knew Joker's real identity in Death of the Family.

But he doesn't use it. Not in Endgame, not in The Three Jokers. I talked about this story more extensively here, but the reasoning that he does it to protect Joker's hidden family is very weak, because Bruce could just omit the fact Jeannie and her child survived. If he's worried about the paper trail, it's ridiculous to assert that Batman doesn't have the resources to fake their death certificates or bury the clues. Hell, the press wouldn't need to find out, he could only tell the truth to Joker and watch him unravel as a result. But he doesn't! In his own words...

Batman: The Three Jokers #3

So... this comic basically goes to show that Bruce wouldn't get bored if he figured out the "mystery" of Joker. Rather that he'd just keep it a secret, and maintain the status quo (even though it's painfully selfish and destructive of him to do so). And even if you see The Three Jokers as out of main continuity, Death of the Family remains as a testament to the fact Bruce knows Joker. He knows what might get Joker to stop, but he's only ever threatened it and never resorted to it since, despite seeing proof of it working.

At the end of the day, Bruce getting bored with Joker is unlikely. It would be a real possibility if their dynamic was based only on Bruce's curiosity and obsession regarding Joker, but it isn't. That's simply a component of it, one of the pillars. Bruce needs Joker in other ways-- bigger ways, that overshadow knowing Joker's name. Joker needs to remain an equal who can oppose Batman... and thus, he keeps coming back, whether he likes it or not. Bruce drags him with him; and I wish I was being metaphorical, but this is literally what Bruce did in Going Sane and the nebulous time between Batman (2011) #48 and Dark Days: The Casting.

The tragedy, though, is that Joker would never trust Batman to still be there outside of the murder and the mayhem he thinks Batman needs. The thought of Bruce caring about him outside of his Joker persona is an impossibility... because Joker utterly hates who he used to be, and sees no value in himself (or anything, for that matter). He can't comprehend Bruce valuing him as a human being, worth knowing or saving.

[camp-counselor-david]

Ough, I just remembered that "Missing Halloween" animated short, and it hit me with the biggest Jasper/David vibes, so now I'm making it everyone elses problem with a self indulgent au ramble.

TW for child death

Jaspvid AU where after Jasper "leaves" Camp Campbell, the summer ends and David goes home for the year.

Things proceed as normal, until halloween, where after all school year of not seeing Jasper, David bumps into him on halloween of all days! He's got a pretty cool ghost costume on, too, especially for it being the late 90s! There was no reason to think he was actually dead. The ghosts in cartoons always phased right through things, but he could grab Jasper's hand and pull him along for a fun holiday themed buddy reunion!

By then, David forgot about the whole feud about the camp. All he knew was that Jasper was back, and he didn't seem too mad about what happened between them either. He seems to enjoy running around with David and trick or treating-- even though for some reason everyone's ignoring Jasper, which really peeves David off.

They stop by David's house, and even his mother seems to be ignoring Jasper! He asks his mom to take a picture of the two of them in their costumes, but she doesn't take it seriously, and when she shows them the photo she took, only David appears in it. So not only does his mom start insisting that he's being silly and taking an imaginary friend too seriously, but their gosh darn crappy technology isn't working right either!

David storms back outside with Jasper, upset at the idea that people think that his very real best friend is suddenly fake! Why would they imply that he's crazy when all of the adults in his life acknowledged Jasper as a person before? He and Jasper get into a little bit of an argument about it, causing Jasper to get up and walk off into the woods.

Unlike their last spat, though, David follows after him this time. He didn't want to lose him all over again. But where are they going? Why did it look like Jasper was walking back to Camp Campbell? Or... Spooky Island? Why there? Why wasn't he listening when he called out to him?

He finds Jasper sitting alone outside of the cave, and the two talk out what happened. They laugh at how familiar their argument felt, and David ends up apologizing and sharing some of his halloween candy. Because when push came to shove, they would always be best friends.

Meanwhile, his worried sick parents seek him out, figuring that if their David ran away to anywhere, it was the camp that he wouldn't stop gushing about ever since he came back home from it.

After a lengthy search, they find David happily snacking on candy next to the corpse of his best friend, Jasper, who had finally found peace through being found.

Anyway, I'm sorry. I think I've seen too many death/monster aus lately, and it has infected me with the halloweenies. I'd be shocked if more people didn't see the original short I'm talking about, but here it is!