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redhoodinternaldialectical · 11 months

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I don’t think Jason has ever hated Tim

I recently revived my Jason Todd hyperfixation from its torpor and realized I had... Means and Ways of reading as many comics as I want for free, so I made the transition from Fanon Only to having read Lost Days, Under the Red Hood, Teen Titans #29 (where Jason fights and beats the tar out of Tim), Hush, Red Hood and the Outlaws (the majority of both runs), Red Robin: The Grail, Batman and Robin: Streets Run Red, Green Arrow #70 - #73 (where Jason kidnaps Mia), Battle for the Cowl, and a smattering of other bits and bobs, all within the last month.

I have come to the conclusion that the idea that Jason hated Tim before slowly learning to be okay with him is completely backwards.

Jason starts respecting Tim as a fellow combatant after basically their first meeting, and was sympathizing with him even before. Fandom talks a lot about how Jason repeatedly tried to kill Tim, but I think there’s a good argument to be made that actually Jason has never tried to kill Tim, and there’s a better argument that Jason has never tried to hurt Tim out of a dislike for him.

Tim is the one who feels viciously betrayed by Jason, hates his guts, and depending on if you blend in the New 52 either learns to begrudgingly like him or just stays hatin.

Obviously I need some proof here, since this goes completely against the grain of every relationship interpretation I’ve ever seen for them, so approximately seven miles of character analysis under the cut lmao

I’m gonna try to go in chronological order of the characters’ history here, which means we’re starting with Lost Days, and Jason’s first reaction to finding out there’s a new Robin:

This does not look like anger to me.

Lost Days is only six issues long, and this is the entirety of the pages devoted to Jason’s feelings on Tim. Jason succeeds in a plan that would have almost certainly killed Batman if Jason had gone through with it. Jason undeniably has Joker dead to rights at one point, but lets him go. Jason at no point in this story attempts to harm Tim at all.

Now for Hush.

Context for fanon only folks: this is where the “throat slitting” bit happens.

Context for a lot of confusion: I don’t know if Jason is the one who holds Tim hostage or not.

In the original Hush plot line this is only Clayface; Jason isn’t here at all. It was later retconned in Under the Red Hood that Jason was actually in this fight for... some amount of time. It’s highly unclear to me when they swap out. Probably because originally, they didn’t swap out. Oh well! In either case, it’s now canon that Jason coached Clayface on his acting, so for the purposes of this essay, Imma hold Jason responsible for the throat damages and the words said regardless of who did what!

Right off the bat: this is a hostage taking, not a murder. Yes, Clayson Jayface does nick Tim’s neck and absolutely makes the threat of murdering him to Batman, but it’s clearly a threat. Like, look at this panel:

He is talking a lot. This isn’t an attempt to kill Tim, it’s an attempt to screw with Batman. No matter who this is, they have every reason to expect that Batman will stop them before they do any permanent damage. Can you see that little, blurry, half-hidden line of red? Lets look at what the damage was later on:

The bleeding was stopped by a bit of cloth, some pressure, and he’ll need stitches eventually, but they can clearly wait, and Tim doesn’t seem alarmed. That’s enough to scar, and enough that it is perfectly reasonable for Tim to assume that he would have died if he hadn’t been rescued.

However, Jason being deeply protective of kids is a reasonably consistent character trait. “You really think I’m gonna bring the pain to a ten year old?” Even at Jason’s most villainous, he is willing to put himself in danger in order to protect his own sidekick Scarlet. I think it would be very out of character for him to have gone through with it. Combined with Jason’s later actions and the general fact that a hostage is pretty useless dead, I come to the conclusion that Jason was bluffing.

It is ambiguous though, and I admit that this is probably the weakest link in the “Jason never tried to kill him” chain.

But enough of that, was he angry with him? Is the hate there?

I argue no, and that really there’s no emotional investment in Tim at all. In terms of hard numbers the pages Jalay Toddface spends holding Tim hostage is 3 and the number he spends fighting Batman is 13 and the number of times he even so much as LOOKS at Tim is ZERO, like actually, literally ZERO TIMES. He does not spare poor Timmy a SINGLE GLANCE.

Now make a special note here because those three pages of no eye contact from someone who might not even be Jason are the ONLY times that Tim is called Pretender or Imposter.

I’m relying on this research done by Kiragecko: https://kiragecko.tumblr.com/post/128411908944/bat-sibling-interaction It only goes up to Battle for the Cowl, (as does this essay it turns out, I just don’t know how to bridge between that and the New 52) so it isn’t every interaction ever, but it’s still excellent research, go leave a like.

According to them: “Comments: Tim thinks about Jason a lot while he’s first training. He imagines the former Robins giving him pep talks, and uses them to fight off fear gas. When Jason comes back, though, Tim’s really nasty, especially in his head. Jason, however, is somewhat respectful. He usually calls Tim ‘Tim’, and seems to kind of like him. ‘Pretender’ and ‘Imposter’ are things that CLAYFACE said, not Jason.“

How many times are those said? Once. Each. That’s it. As a comment under the Jason and Tim post done by Kiragecko points out, “Replacement” doesn’t even get used.

Under the Red Hood is basically THE Jason Todd comic. To my memory he doesn’t interact with Tim in it. However, it does contain that aforementioned reconning! So we get to see his reasoning during this encounter.

And it very very clearly isn’t at all about Tim.

Moving on to Titans Tower, which is indisputably focused on Tim: When he fights Tim, he is absolutely violent and over the line, but he’s NOT out of his head. Jason is clearly very lucid and careful about what he’s doing.

Is he angry? Of course! He’s angry at the Titans who in his mind cared about him way less than their other members, and accepted a replacement robin as though his life, his whole flesh and blood self, was something that could be so easily forgotten and swapped out.

But I think it would be a mistake to assume that Jason’s at all mad that he isn’t Robin anymore.

A very interesting direct parallel to this fight is when Jason kidnaps Mia, Green Arrow’s sidekick Speedy, fights her, appeals to their commonalities and encourages her to solve crime his way rather than Green Arrow’s way.

In both scenarios Jason engineers a way to isolate a sidekick and attempts to teach them something through combat. He makes a direct appeal to them against their mentors, and seems genuine about what he’s saying. He also lets both of them live, and with Mia is honestly pretty damned polite about it all. At least, as polite as a guy can be about kidnapping you and encouraging you to try to kill him in your high school gym that he definitely should not know about.

The plain fact of the matter is that Jason knocked Tim out, had time to paint his whole ass name way up high on a wall, and did not kill him. This is the same Jason who just prior to that took out all of Tim’s allies non-lethally. The same Jason who kept Mia’s protector’s busy non-lethally. The same Jason who cuts Mia free and gives her weapons back and starts slow in their fighting to make sure he doesn’t hurt her too badly. The same Jason who seems to feel very strongly that killing, trafficking, or selling drugs to kids is an unforgivable offense and very clearly sees Tim as a kid.

Quite frankly, this reads not like a murder, and not like a jealous beatdown, but an attempt to convince Tim that he’s going to get himself killed and needs to get out while he still can. In Jason’s mind before they meet, Tim is purely A Robin, a kid who deserves better than to be put into danger against the same monsters over and over again until he finally slips up and dies.

Is this a hairbrained and back asswards way of doing that? Yes! But it does track for someone who tries to do all of his talking through his actions, which do speak louder than words, but unfortunately C-4 loudness is not actually a significant boon to nuanced communication.

If you want to put it in a less charitable way (and maybe we should, this is a bonkers asshole move on Jason’s part no matter how you slice it) then we can say Jason is testing Tim, trying to see if this one has what it takes to be better than he was, to survive where he couldn’t. Personally I think it’s a mix of both, and for this end of that emotional mess: Tim passes the test.

Jason leaves while talking about Tim in present tense, showing that he has every expectation of Tim being alive, and praises him in the process:

Did you know that the fun panel of Tim kicking Jason in the nuts is actually from the same comic run, about twenty or so issues later?

Did you know that the argument they were having starts with Dick and Tim wrestling with Jason and accusing him of a murder he did not commit, and in fact tried to save the victim from?

Did I mention yet that the death in question was of Duela Dent, aka the JOKER’S DAUGHTER, whom Jason caught attempting to hold a young woman hostage for ransom? And that Jason repeatedly shot her getaway balloon instead of her and then tried to save her life immediately afterwards despite the fact that she was going to let the hostage plummet to their death? And it is implied that part of the reason he’s so easy on her is because of “Once a Titan always a Titan” loyalty, with this being our first clue that Jason isn’t the one shooting at her anymore?

Did I also mention that he comes to her funeral in part to be around Donna (the starry leotard lady whose statue he smashed) because it’s nice to be around people who understand being displaced by their own death? And that the one who sticks up for him in this scene is Donna?

At risk of negating my own thesus here, I’d say it’s reasonable to think that maybe Jason feels rage-hate for Tim in this “kicked in the dick while Dick grins smugly” moment.

Lets go now to Robin #177 at the tail end of the 1993 to 2003 run - Bruce has “died” and Tim hasn’t yet gone on his epic quest to find him. Tim finds Jason unifying street gangs with the intent to bring them under control and solve the current crisis. He appeals to Tim for help with this, in fact he comes off as almost puppy dog eager to work with him, and seems really sad when he says fuck no.

This is one of the first fights in which Tim really holds his own against Jason, and I am very proud of him, yes :3

This gets Jason arrested. Then Tim actually goes through with a heavily modified, less violent version of Jason’s plan that Jason didn’t think could work. A few issues later, when Tim decides that he’s going to try to honor what Bruce would have wanted by springing Jason out of jail, Jason makes note of that.

Jason is pretty damned civil at their next meeting, even though Tim makes it pretty damned clear he doesn’t want him around.

And now... we have to talk about Battle for the Cowl.

I’ve seen it described as a masterclass in how NOT to write Jason Todd, due to it portraying him as being an absolutely off his rocker anger murder violence man. I am inclined to agree.

In this three issue comic Jason Todd has been dRiVeN mAd (in the most bullshit comic sense of that word) by Bruce’s will... telling him to go to therapy. Yeah. So uh, he dons a Batman suit to shoot people in AND pretends to be Black Mask so he can enslave a bunch of villains Amanda Waller style, and like it gets weird from there. It is an extremely jarring transition from that last scene to GUNS BAT HATE MAN.

He still does not hate Tim in it. I really, seriously thought I was going to have to make a lot of excuses for this portion but then the more I read of it the more vindicated I was cause let me repeat: One of the most unhinged with Bat hate and crazy juice versions of Jason ever put to print does not hate Tim at all.

Hell, he likes Tim! He compliments him!

And on top of that, even though he is MUCH more lethal against his fellow robins when they attack him - Jason straight up shoots a ten year old Damian in the chest. It’s fucked. - There is still evidence to suggest that Jason deliberately didn’t kill Tim when he had ample opportunity.

Jason first of all never hunts Tim down. I’ve heard Battle for the Cowl described as Jason tracking Tim down or kidnapping him or going after him to force him to Be His Robin, but that’s just not how it goes.

Instead he waits for Tim to come find his Batcave, disorients him, and goes for a ton of surface cuts. He only actually goes for a real body blow after Tim picks up a crowbar and beats Jason across the face with it a few times.

(Again, proud of you Timmy)

After the stabbing, Jason doesn’t just leave Tim there; this isn’t a matter of hurrying on before he could check. He’s seen dragging Tim off. When Nightwing later comes to rescue him, Dick is downright certain Jason is lying to him about Tim being dead because Jason is refusing to show him the body and Dick figures it’s because he knows there’s no body to show (if in part because he can’t let himself believe Tim is dead without hard proof).

Tim himself wonders about this, noting that the batterang was rusted and shattered on his armor.

Sure, Tim used playing possum to make his pulse slow to a near stop for a while, maybe that fooled Jason, but keep in mind that BRUCE taught Tim that skill, and if there’s one thing these comics have established, it’s that Jason is dangerous precisely because he is so intimately familiar with the techniques of the Bat. Jason even makes specific note of the fact that Tim being trained like Bruce and fighting like Bruce would be his downfall at the beginning of their fight.

The whole comic leaves me wondering just how much of what happened went completely according to Jason’s plan. I really would not put it passed him to engineer a ‘death in the family’ recreation for the next Batman in line! As much as I agree that this is garbage characterization for him in many many ways, I do think Jason makes a fantastic villain. I love to see him run rings around the Bats in some places, and make lemonade out of getting his ass kicked in others.

No matter how we interpret the stabbing here though, what does seem very clear to me is that Jason makes the Be My Robin offer to Tim first and foremost because he thinks pretty highly of Tim! He’s been rejected by Tim at least three times over but keeps holding a hand out for him. This does not seem like Tim hater reaction hours here!

Also that whole thing about kids being dragged into this vigilante life irresponsibly? Yeah that’s still there!

I have TRIED to find evidence that Jason hates Tim at like literally any point here. I have gone through the shit people point to. I have looked at the context around those and dug up more obscure interactions for second and third views. Everywhere I look I just see more instances of Jason complimenting Tim!! It’s driving me nuts!

The only conclusion that I can come to is that people read this stuff and just trust that Tim is right about Jason. Tim’s internal view waaay more closely resembles fandom interpretation. Tim assumes that Clayson Toddface would absolutely have killed him in cold blood, that Jason beat the shit out of him purely to prove he was stronger, that he’s a brute, a moron, an active danger to society, and that every bit of leniency given to him will result in betrayal and death.

I don’t have clearer proof for it, but I also don’t think it’s a stretch to say that Tim probably believes Jason has it out for him and holds him responsible for his replacement.

So yeah. As a fascinating reversal of my expectations going in: I don’t think Jason has ever hated Tim, but boy fuckin howdy has Tim HATED Jason.

#jason todd #tim drake #character analysis #jason todd and tim drake #jason todd & tim drake #jaytim #jason todd/tim drake #robin #red hood #red robin

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shikai-the-storyteller · 1 year

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I could go on and on about how much Forever loves the Eggs, but I want to highlight one specific thing for the moment:

After the Guapoduo wedding, Forever got rejected by Phil yet again after confessing his love (yet again). Like any emotionally stable person would do, Forever promptly flings himself into the pit, and when he doesn't die, he lights himself on fire. Phil hops down after him, but someone invisible gets to Forever first and douses him in water.

Forever tells Phil to just let him die and go away, but Phil's attention is on the invisible person, who he assumes is an admin. He laughs, then punches it twice asking who it is. Forever, who was very depressed and very in character, suddenly does a 180 and (while putting himself between Phil and the invisible thing) quickly says, "STOP IT -- don't hit it, maybe it's an Egg, sometimes the Eggs are invisible" (Phil, of course, complies because he was just being silly).

It just reminded me how Richarlyson nearly died when he took fall damage while invisible the previous week, and how everyone was frantic trying to find him but couldn't because they couldn't see him (he was rescued by Forever warping him to the Egg Hotel, but Richarlyson later said he only had 2 seconds left before his death would've been permanent).

Something about Forever putting everything else aside -- emotions, drama, whatever -- because the safety of the Eggs comes first is just so... I dunno man. I just love Forever a lot. Both the character and the actual content creator care so damn much about the Eggs and the server and the other members, and he's always so respectful. He checks in on people both in character and out of character to make sure everyone's alright and there are no hurt feelings or misunderstandings. He's so full of love, and that love bleeds into his character and everything he touches in the series. It's really sweet. Forever is a good guy.

#i talk #qsmp talk #I'm tired #I really do adore q!Forever and the actual dude Forever #I didn't expect to love him this much all those weeks back when we first met him #and now -- like Baghera said -- I can't imagine not knowing him #or any of the other members of the QSMP #For anyone curious: the timestamp for this moment from Forever's stream is 1h 53m 30s #If I ever met Forever in person I would like to give him a big hug

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aita-blorbos · 9 months

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AITA for joking about a traumatic experience I went through?

Hi. Recently I (17M) got into a bit of a spat with a guy who I thought was my best friend, and so I’m looking for opinions.

For some context, a while back I took some freaky drugs. Some can’t-even-look-it-up-on-the-internet, top-secret type of shit. Something-something quantuam nanotechnology CPU.

Listen, I don’t really get it, but all you need to know is that they put a computer inside my brain. And the computer told me what to do. It helped me to be cool. It helped me rule.

That’s how I befriended stupid J (My “friend,” 17 M) in the first place. Before I took those drugs, I had NO-ONE. I was a LOSER. A dork who didn’t have a clue! But my computer brain made me POPULAR. Suddenly, I had all sorts of buds, and he was my favorite of them.

Real cool, badass sort of guy. A little bit dumb sometimes, but nice, too. I appreciated his friendship.

…However, eventually, things went tits up with my computer. Stupid thing started harassing me and I realized I wanted it GONE. It was going to, like… drive me insane or something if I left it be. I came to this realization in the midst of a party J was hosting, and desperately tried to get rid of the computer. But the only way to shut it off was with some long-discontinued nerd soda, and I didn’t have any of that! No-one did! So I did the next best thing.

I set a fire and I burned down J’s house.

Listen: I know how nuts that sounds… but you’ve gotta understand how desperate I was! I HAD to get that thing out of my head. Right then and there. And if the only way to do that was, like, ending my life or whatever in some terrifying inferno, then so be it.

And I DID almost die— passed out from smoke inhalation and everything. But stupid J had to intervene. Initially, he evacuated at first signs of the fire like everyone else, but then he realized I was still inside and decided to play hero. He ran in to rescue me, desperate to save my life.

He did manage to drag me away from the center of the fire, but just as he was nearing the exit, the house collapsed on him. Both of us survived, but we were pretty badly burned, and J broke both his legs.

Obviously, I felt pretty shitty about that. But it’s not like I could apologize right away. I was in the HOSPITAL.

And while I was in the hospital, some nightmare shit went down at school.

J and some other kids were putting on the school play (apparently, he felt well enough to be discharged early, albeit in a wheelchair), and unbeknownst to him, some jackass spiked the punch bowl they were using as a prop. Because of this, all of the actors in the school play, J included, were infected with the stupid computer pill brain drug, and they went on a rampage.

Eventually, another kid (I’ll call him LamerJ) managed to stop the madness. He found that long-discontinued nerd soda and shut off all of the evil computers, including the one inside my head (We all, like, had a psychic link via our computers. Long story).

Before he did this, though, like a complete dumbass, J stood up. Instructed by his computer to try and stop LamerJ, he GOT OUT OF HIS WHEELCHAIR AND STARTED MOVING AROUND.

The good news is this didn’t hurt him because the computer shut off his nerves or whatever. The bad news is walking around while you have already fractured legs is going to do irreparable damage to your body and he ended up SERIOUSLY messing himself up.

In just a few minutes, J’s prognosis went from “Your legs are going to need some time to heal” to “You will probably never recover fully. You are going to have a semi-permanent condition for life.”

J was… uh, pretty gutted about this. Dude was big into sports, and so that kinda damaged his prospects.

I apologized to J, OBVIOUSLY, and he said it was good. That we were all good. He said he wasn’t upset with me and he got I wasn’t in my right mind, and after that things were supposed to go back to normal. He was going to be able to get to know the real me.

But here’s the thing: I was struggling with some shit, too, and you know how I cope with that sort of thing? Through humor. I’d make jokes where I called myself stuff like “flaming hot’ and all the other kids loved it. Helped me feel a lot less shit about my burn scars. But apparently J had an issue with that.

He pulled me aside into the boys’ bathroom one day and, out of the blue, started demanding I needed to stop making jokes about the fire. All of a sudden, it was upsetting to him. I told him that I got why he was so crabby about things, but that the fire traumatized me too, and that I deserved the right to laugh at myself if it helped me cope.

I told him it wasn’t me he should be mad at for his injuries, anyways. He should have been mad at LamerJ or YetAnotherJ, who were responsible for letting the punch bowl get spiked. If it weren’t for that, the damage wouldn’t have been anywhere near as serious. They were to blame. Not me.

But he said that wasn’t true, and that as his friend, he expected more of me. He reminded me it was trying to save me he was even hurt in the first place.

I told him I never ASKED him to rescue me. That was his decision. I said I was sorry I didn’t go and factor his feelings into my GODDAMN SUICIDE ATTEMPT.

He started getting really angry. I got angry too. He said I ruined his life, and I said he must have wanted his life ruined. Something about those computer chips is they can’t make you do anything you don’t truly want. Therefore, at least SOME part of him wanted to stand up and shatter his legs. Maybe to get out of the responsibility of having to decide what he wanted to do with his future or whatever (Since he’d always been SO flaky about that).

He said if that were true, then clearly I wanted to burn down his house and hurt him. I told him the computer didn’t make me make that decision and he said that was even worse. He said I NEVER thought about how my actions affected the people around me, and then stormed off, saying he never wanted to see me again.

…AITA? I wasn’t trying to…— shit! I was just trying to cope with everything that happened. I didn’t realize he’d be such a stick in the mud about it. But maybe I am still a dipshit? For, like, being so stubborn or bringing him into all of this or whatever? I dunno. I feel really stressed.

This all sucks, man. Wish he’d just left me in that fire. Bet he’s wishing that, too.

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality #HOUSEFIRE #SUICIDE #nonconsensual drugging

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munsonownsmyass · 1 year

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Lily my love!

How about Dipping in a natural hot spring with Matthias Helvar?

Can be spicy, soft, or both! Dealer's choice!

Matthias Helvar x reader

Summary: Taken prisoner by the Drüskelle, you find yourself in the cold, unforgiving land of Fjerda. Freezing and fearing for your life, an unlikely savior comes to your rescue.

Author's notes: Thank you so much for this ask, Pheebs! I'm glad I've made you simp as much as I do for this man ❤️

Also... Lava in Fjerda works different. That's all I'll say about that.

Warnings: Enemies to lovers big time. Angst, mentioning of killing someone, pining? Maybe? SMUT! 18+. Grinding, handjob, unprotected sex, cream pie (you know me by now), kissing, fluff.

The weather had turned colder faster than you expected. Even with the many layers, you could feel the cold seeps though your flesh, freezing you to the bone. You weren’t used to the cold, far from it, but as a prisoner of the Drüskelle, you had been taken far into the icy lands of Fjerda.

The last few days have been on the move with barely any sleep or food and especially without much warmth. The Fjerdan men in front of you keeps pushing on, used to this harsh weather, born from the cold. You could hear the men snickering around you, having a laugh on your expense. They know you’re freezing, but they don’t care. Your life means little to them.

Except for maybe the youngest of the Drüskelle. Matthias. He’s barely said a word to you, yet he is the one of them you trust the most. The other men had eyed you in ways that made you uncomfortable, but not Matthias. He seemed protective over you, even though he didn’t hide the fact that he hated what you are.

Being a Grisha was never good in Fjerdan territory, let alone in the hands of the Drüskelle. They had orders not to harm you, but the only one who seemed to heed those words were Matthias. Still now, you hear them mutter silently between each other, words like drüsje and mörd spoken with clenched teeth. You don’t speak Fjerdan, but you do know those words. Witch and death.

As the winds pick up, the men make camp in a small forest, the trees providing some cover from the storm. Used to the harsh environment, the men settle down and doesn’t seem faced by anything, making you feel worse as your teeth clatter so hard you fear they will take permanent damage. One of the oldest, the leader, yells at you harshly in Fjerdan.

“I already told you, I don’t understand what you’re saying!” you bite back, no longer caring if they kill you. Then at least you’d no longer be freezing. He stands up, walking over to you as he draws his knife from its sheath.

“Scön der top.” He mutters under his breath, stopping a mere inch from your face. “I said; If you don’t stop the clattering, I’ll remove your teeth to keep you quiet.”

Matthias cuts in between, putting a hand to the leaders chest. Their discussion sounds heated, the leader’s eyes darting to you more than once. For the first time you really fear for your life. Matthias gets to his feet and pulls you with him.

“Go then! And take the drüsje whore with you!” The old man spits out, before turning away from you and Matthias. He pulls you away from the group quickly and leads you further into the woods. Trembling, you fear what he’s gonna do. Is this it? Was he ordered to take you into the woods and dispose of you?

“Are you gonna kill me?” You try, voice weak and barely above a whisper. He stops, his grip on your arm loosening as he turns to you, eyes softer than you expected.

“No. I was saving you.” He looks at you for a moment, before walking again, but this time the grip on your arm is softer. “He was ready to kill you, but we need you alive to get our money.”

For some reasons, your heart sinks in your chest, making you feel hollow. Did you expect him to save you because he cared? Stupid girl. No, of course you’re merely a way for him to earn some coin.

“If you’re not gonna kill me, where are you taking me?”

He doesn’t answer, he just drags you through the trees. The woods slowly gets darker as the day comes to an end, but suddenly up ahead, you see a faint light. Following close behind Matthias, you see the light grow stronger until you realize what it is. Lava. Heard about it, but never seen it with your own eyes, you’re intrigued by the warm colors.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ask confused, hoping he was telling the truth earlier and isn’t planning on throwing you in the lava.

“You were cold. Lava is hot.” He shrugs, sitting you down near a tree. He squats down in front of you, starring into your eyes. “If I go find food, will you promise to stay? Or will I have to tie you down?”

He watches you intently, his blue eyes boring into your soul, making you shiver. You hate the way your body reacts to him. He is Drüskelle, trained to capture or kill you. You’re Grisha, his enemy from before either of you were born, so why do you long to reach out and touch him? Why do you feel yourself blush when his eyes linger a little too long?

“I promise.” You whisper softly, but as Matthias turns to walk away, you can’t help but bite back. “Besides, where would I go on my own? Die of the cold or die by the hands of the Drüskelle, what’s the difference?”

You see Matthias stop for a second, shoulders tense, before he walks off into the darkness. For a second you want to run after him, fearing what would happen if he doesn’t come back. But at least he left you someplace warm. You can already feel your body relaxing as it warms up, the tremble slowly subsiding.

After a while you get bored and start exploring. If you’re still near where he left you, it would still count as staying put, right? Always been curious by nature, you walk closer to the lava.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice an opening in the rocks. Intrigued, you walk closer only to find a small tunnel. Walking in, your hand brush over an old torch on the wall. Quickly taking it and running back to the lava, you get it lit before you run back into the tunnel. Along the way there are more torches you can light, illuminating your path. At the end, it opens into a cave. No, not just a cave. Someone lived there once. A makeshift bed with furs in one corner, small shelves with trinkets and old books. All covered in layers of dust, abandoned for years.

Exploring the rest of the cave, you light every torch you find, when suddenly you see the flames reflected in some water. Walking closer, you realize it’s not a puddle as you first expected, but a whole pool of water. Deep enough to submerge in, the sides processed so they’re smooth. Whoever lived here before, made sure the edges weren’t sharp. Dipping your hand into the water, you find it warm. Probably kept that way by the lava surrounding the cave.

It’s been weeks since your last bath, always used to long relaxing and scented baths back in Ravka, so you wonder if you could bathe quickly before Matthias returns. Quickly, before you can change your mind, you discard your clothes and climb into the pool. Once submerged in the hot waters, you instantly feel better, the warmth spreading through you. After cleaning off weeks of dirt, you lean against the edge of the pool, allowing yourself to close your eyes just for a bit.

“What are you doing?!”

You jerk awake, looking up to find Matthias a few feet from you. He is clearly angry, and you can’t really blame him. You turn to face him, making sure to keep your body stays hidden under the surface.

“I’m sorry. I got curious and found this place.” You gesture to the cave with a nervous smile. “And when I saw the water, I didn’t think. I just really needed a bath.”

He just huff, annoyance painted on his features as he settles down on a stool to prepare the bird in his hand. Unsure what to do now, you linger in the water, looking at him. After a while, he throws the bird down, looking at you.

“What?!”

“I was just thinking…” You start softly, not even sure you should tease him when he’s already angry. “You could use a bath, too, you know. I’m not the only one who smells.”

“So, I should go into the water and then what? You could use your powers to kill me?” He bites back, never taking his eyes of the bird as he picks it up and start plucking of it’s feathers again.

“I would never-”

“Yes you would! I’ve seen what Tidemakers can do.” He stand up, closing the distance to you, anger burning like a rapid fire in his eyes. “You Grishas are all the same. Drüsje.”

At the last word, you feel a tightening in your chest. It never stops hurting, no matter how many times they call you a witch.

“We are not evil. I have only used my powers for good. It’s not my fault you were taught to hate me. You don’t even know me!”

Matthias avoids your gaze, but you see his eyes soften. He sighs before looking back into your eyes. “I do not hate you. I hate what you are.”

He sits down at the edge of the pool, his eyes looking anywhere but your naked flesh, which you find quite endearing. “When I was little, my family was killed by people like you. So tell me how I should not hate your kind?”

“I wasn’t even born. Why should I pay for the sins of those who came before me?”

“And why should I? Don’t tell me you haven’t heard that all Drüskelle are bad?”

At that you laugh, leaning onto your arms on the edge. “Says the man who holds me prisoner.”

Matthias laughs when it all dawns on him. Running his fingers through his hair, he looks into your eyes again, his softer than before. “I guess we are both bad.”

“Or we were both taught wrong?”

He nods, smiling softly at you. For a second his eyes travel down, but instantly he looks away, the blush creeping up his neck and cheeks. Interesting. You shift your stance, the top of your chest breaking the surface of the waters. Matthias blushes even more, muttering a Fjerdan curse under his breath.

“So… If I promise not to drown you, will you come in? You do really stink.” You ask, feeling bolder than before. Pushing away from the edge, your lean back as you swim backwards, the soft flesh of your breasts peeking above the surface. “I promise not to look as you get in.”

With a smile, you turn your back to Matthias, waiting in silence. After what seems like hours, you hear the sound of his thick coat hit the floor of the cave. The rest of his clothes soon follow and as you hear his footsteps nearing the edge, you sneak a peak at his reflection in the water. You knew he was big, the tallest of all the Fjerdan men, but now you see that everything about him is big. Biting your lip, you try your best to hold back the gasp that was threatening to leave you.

Once he’s in the water, you turn around to face him. He looks uncomfortable, vulnerable, as he sits there in the water, shed of his armor. He is right. It would be easy for you to manipulate the water, drown him. But you won’t. Like it or not, you’ve come to care for the big brute. And you believe he cares about you too.

Looking into his beautiful blue eyes, you swim closer, holding his gaze. He shifts in his seat, bottom lip quivering as you get closer. You shouldn’t do this, but every rational thought is gone. Left is only him and those eyes so deep, you could swim in them forever.

You straddle him, causing him to gasp when he feels you close. You feel him grow harder against you, his breath hitching in his throat. Scooting closer, you feel his hard length against your slick lips. You grind against him, eliciting a whimper from him.

“You’ve been so kind to me. Protecting me. You put all my thoughts about the Drüskelle to shame.” You purr, hands running over his chest, coming to a halt on his shoulders.

“They brought us up to hate each other, but I was so wrong to listen.” He pauses, his hand cupping your cheek, his touch gentler than any you’ve ever felt. “We are more alike than I could ever have imagined.”

“So you don’t want to kill me?” You ask, the words you really want to say left unspoken.

“No, that’s the last thing I want to do.” He whispers, leaning in to claim your lips in a soft kiss. As he deepens the kiss, your hand wanders down to his hard cock. Matthias moan when your fingers wrap around the base, slowly dragging your grip up and down his length. He whimpers, rolling his hips in response as you continue stroking him. Picking up the pace, you grin to yourself when you see Matthias’ flustered face, mouth open in a gasp as he throws his head back against the edge. The moaning turns to a deep growl, his hands coming to a rest on your hips in a bruising grip.

He opens his eyes, the blue replaced by black lust blown orbs as he takes you in. His lips find your again in a long, hungry kiss. “Please.” He whimpers, knowing you will know the meaning of his plea.

You let go of his cock, pushing off his lap until you’re hovering above his throbbing length. You tease him, letting the head slide through you wet folds before you cave in, lowering yourself onto him with a gasp.

“Fuck, min hjerte.” He hisses out through gritted teeth, his grip on your hips tightening. When he slides home, his whines echo in the cave. You bury your head in his neck, shivering by the feeling of him filling you up.

“Move, Matthias.”

And he does. Rocking his hips up and into you, while you hold onto his shoulders, one hand entangling in his soft dark blonde hair. With each snap of his hips, you gasp, loosing yourself in the feeling of him. You kiss him, desperate for release as you clench around him.

“A little more…” he begs, snapping his hips again, causing the water to ripple around you. “So… close…”

It’s only a few more thrusts of his hips before you come, moaning his name. it’s too much for him and he spills inside you, filling you with his cum. You fall against his chest, breathing hard as you come down from your high. Wrapping his arms around you, Matthias holds you close, placing soft kisses on your hair.

There in the cave, wrapped in his embrace, you feel the world fade away. None of you knows what the future will bring, your love a forbidden one, but none of it matters now. Right now, he’s yours and you’re his, however short a time it may be.

TFC girls: @phoebe-danvers @mindidjarin @e-dubbc11 @itwasthereaminuteago @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @mattmurdocksscars @pedrito-friskito @a-bang-for-your-bucky

Tagging: @our-chaos

#matthias helvar x reader #matthias helvar fanfiction #matthias helvar #calahan skogman fanfiction #six of crows fanfiction #shadow and bone fanfiction

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you-have-been-frizzled · 11 months

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hi! @tiana4evahh (you’re a lot less new because it took me a month to get to this) there was some difficulties with me trying to answer your ask, so we have to do it this way, third times the charm i guess.

thank you!!

(you should know that you leave my favorite comments on my fics they are so exciting and really do encourage me to work on fics)

i do have a bullet point fic based off of the Wildwood colony fic (link) it would be used as the outline for the fic “rewrite” if i ever end up doing it, i want to but i also have several projects higher on my list.

and because i don’t want to make you wait another month to get an answer even though this ask did end up inspiring a fic that fits some of the prompts for the Neverseen Extravaganza

the headcannons (side note while i say Rayni here i’m actually way more attached to @crymeariveronceagain version of Glimmer i kinda put my own twist on her in my head but you get it)

Tam was held prisoner for 6 months and from the second the light cuffs where put on his wrists, they felt like they where on fire. as time went on he started to get tremors in his hands. he hoped he would be rescued before it became permanent. because there was no way he would escape on his own, the one time he tried they beat him unconscious, and Gethen filled his mind with images of Linh dying in a 100 different ways. he refused to go though that again.

By the time he was rescued it was too late, the nerve damage in his wrists from the light cuffs was too bad, he was going have permanent tremors in his hands, on top of that his hands and arms where covered in scars that looked like ink stains, because of how he was forced to use the shadowflux

he was terrified of having his mind read, and of Teirgan the council suggested a mind probe to make sure he was telling the truth and to see if there was any important information hidden in mind by the Neverseen and he completely broke down, sending shadows everywhere because he didn’t want to have someone tear though his mind like Gethen would.

after he came back he only spoke if he was spoken too, because that’s what Gisela had trained him into doing, you can only take so many backhand slaps to the face with jewel encrusted rings that leave your face bleeding

he was terrified of the light because of how it effected his scars and the fact that they would use it as a punishment when he misbehaved when the Neverseen found out about its effects on his scars, but they stopped when they realized it also effected his ability.

people didn’t trust him even his friends, who would question weather he was still on their side, because he was so attached to Rayni and some of them where convinced she was a spy and had tricked Tam into trusting her. or that Tam really had switched sides and that he was actually the spy. the only people who fully trusted him where Biana Tiergan and Wyile, as Linh was convinced Rayni was a monster who stole her brother

Tam was the one to release Gisela, and Rayni took to the fall for him to protect him from the council because they where already looking for reasons to accuse him of being a member of the neverseen and locking him aes everyone would expect her to do something like that.

Rayni was the one to get Linh to talk to Tam when she said nonchalantly in a meeting that he wasn’t present for that “Tam thought Linh hated him” and Linh snapped back that it was Rayni she hated, they got in a bit of a fight until Rayni told Linh that the entire reason that Tam didn’t come to the meeting is because he couldn’t handle how Linh looked at him.

even after he and Linh made up and Linh went back to live at Solreef, he still didn’t feel safe going out in public because no matter where he went people would hiss traitor and that he should be locked away in Exile.

Tam and Keefe ended up bonding over their shared experience with the Neverseen once they found him again, and Sophie was the first person outside of his family and Biana that he actually trusted .

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snicketsquadron · 10 months

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Kit's personality

I don't want to naysay anyone else's headcanons, but the description of Kit in the ASOUE/Lemony Snicket wiki as "chronically depressed" really baffles me.

Like...the readers barely get to see Kit, and most of her adventures happen offscreen. So making any kind of broad statement about her typical personality is already difficult. But what do we see?

So there's the ATWQ books, in which Kit goes off to do a dangerous mission on her own. We mostly learn about her from what Lemony imagines of her (which will be biased toward Lemony's perspective). But that version of Kit is more hopeful than Lemony, advising him to not take on the troubles of the world into himself.

But to be fair, ATWQ depictions differ from ASOUE depictions. Lemony is much braver and more active as a teenager than he is as an adult. Maybe Kit undergoes a similar change?

Well, We get basically two chapters of Kit in The Penultimate Peril, and a bit of her in The End. In the two chapters of TPP, Kit's described as smiling at the Baudelaires seven times. When Klaus points out their mission doesn't sound at all easy, her response is "That's the spirit".

Kit does describe herself as "distraught". And she does mention not wanting to leave bed when she learned about Jacques' death. But that is a completely normal reaction to the death of a loved one. Grief can go on for months or years, and Kit (while saddened) is already back in action. Her twin brother died and she only got the news recently. Imagine if someone met you for the first time around the time of your sibling's violent murder at the hands of your ex-lover, and walked away thinking "Wow, they're kind of a downer :( " because you cried once? Speaking of the moment of her bursting into tears when leaving the Baudelaires, Kit is heavily pregnant at this point. Even the most cheerful, well-adjusted person can end up crying at random things because pregnancy is a nightmare tornado of hormones.

Then, in between books, Kit is doing things like rescuing the Quagmires, fixing a submarine after a giant eagle attack, and constructing a raft out of books.

Which brings us to the end, and Kit "giving up" rather than take the hybrid apple. Again, this is after multiple disasters, the recent death of her brother, being injured, being poisoned, and like...five minutes before, learning that her partner had died. Kit was put into a position of having to choose between saving her own life (and damaging her unborn child) or better chances for Bea's survival at the cost of succumbing to a poison that works within the hour. I'm not going to argue what the right or wrong decision was. But I don't think it's fair to interpret her decision as an emotional willingness/desire to die, when it's a lot closer to someone with a terminal disease making a complex medical decision.

The external and circumstantial reasons for Kit's distress are obvious to me. Frankly, the fact that she only let herself mourn Jacques death until she got hungry (and then jumped right back into VFD work) is less grief than the average person. Logically she's less sad than I think most people would be in her circumstances. It's baffling to me to interpret her collapsing at the finish line after enduring a gauntlet of horrors with a smile as some sort of permanent pessimism.

#KS #information

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gentrychild · 3 years

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The post about Tododeku being considered some kinda vanilla ship was taken straight out of my mind... Cos y'all know what happened right? Todoroki saw Izuku give no shits while throwing hands with a freaking genetic abomination and thought "Imma challenge this crazy mofo" and then he accused him of being a secret love child and followed it up with unloading tragic backstory(tm). After that they valiantly tried to murder each other on national TV, live...Izuku broke his everything and permanently disfigured his hand and Todoroki somewhat overcame a lifetime of trauma via talk no jutsu. They also blew up the arena by virtue of thermodynamics and almost killed everyone if it wasn't for an overworked cementoss. The next time we see them, they are ride or die. Todoroki just booked it to a shady alley to fight a serial killer cos of a freaking location ping. Then Shouto joined the Bakugou Rescue Squad(tm) cos Izuku said so..no questions asked. Let's not forget that Izuku, hero fanboy and anxious Duracell bunny stood up to Endeavour BEFORE he knew the tragic backstory(tm). Tododeku is just straight up ride or die. And the fact that people think they're a vanilla ship, platonic or romantic...just amazes me.... Cos these two would most definitely commit light recreational murder(tm) and call each other to for a cute evidence destroying and body hiding session.

You are right and you should say it.

I am very attached to the Todoroki/Midoriya fight because it's nothing short of insane.

It starts with Todoroki (accidentally?) eavesdropping Uraraka and Tenya mentioning that Izuku is eating with All Might. Similar quirk + Midoriya risking his life to save All Might (someone who shouldn't need help) and so he immediately put on the tinfoil hat.

Just before the Sport Festival starts, Todoroki challenged Midoriya, someone who can't use his quirk without breaking his bones, instead of Bakugou, aka the other strongest fighter in the class.

And Todoroki turns out to be right because the sheer possibility of Izuku using his quirk too close to him during the "Grab a headband" fight made him use his flames for a moment, which is a pretty big deal.

Todoroki then lures Izuku to an isolated area, it's the first time they actually talk to each other for real, and Todoroki proceeds to ask him if he is the Symbol of Peace's secret bastard child???

He then doesn't even give a second to Izuku to recover from it and tells this kid, that he has pretty much never talked with before, his entire tragic backstory.

As someone who protects their secret more fiercely than a dragon protects their gold, this one shook me more than the actual content of the tragic backstory. There is also the fact that it was a huge risk on Todoroki's part as it was possible for whoever listened to him not to believe him.

Izuku then sees Endeavor. I am not surprised about him talking back to him because Izuku has social anxiety but doesn't have much patience when it's more serious. And yes, from his expression, it's pretty clear he believed Todoroki.

Izuku goes to this fight mentally prepared to snap as many fingers as necessary to win. He doesn't have any other way to fight Todoroki.

Not only does he break many bones in this fight but he pretty much tells Todoroki "You ain't shit" because Todoroki never managed to hit Midoriya. All his damage is self inflicted so far.

At some point, Todoroki wonders if his dad has paid Midoriya to convince him to use his fire, which is very funny to me.

Izuku actually directly punches Izuku with OFA at some point, which is a pretty good deal as at the time, he avoided it in order not to turn his opponents in chunky salsa.

"IT'S YOUR POWER!"

Enough said.

Once the flames were unleashed, they both decided to just unleash their full power on each other.

That something they didn't even do in the USJ, while fighting villains.

You said that an overworked Cementos is the reason why they didn't killed everyone by the virtue of thermodynamic but since the walls were created were vaporized, I am more leaning towards their attacks cancelling each other.

And don't forget how they didn't really talk to each other during this fight, and yet, they quickly understood what the other was trying to say and why they were doing this.

No, seriously, they shared a glance to say "Hey, want to beat the crap out of each other to evacuate some trauma?", the other mentally answered "Yes!" and the next thing Midnight knew, there was no more arena.

And that's just the Sport Festival.

#I think the problem with Tododeku is that the same way Fanon Izuku and Fanon Shouto are made softer #so is the ship #people just forget that those boys are insane #tododeku

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edendaphne · 3 years

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“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 21

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

–––––

CHAPTER 21: IMPROVVISANDO

Music glossary: Improvvisando: with improvisation

Glossary: Wǎnshàng hǎo : Good evening Shīfù : Teacher/Master

(Mood music: Night of Beijing - Jia Peng Fang)

That evening

Marinette fidgeted with her napkin, occasionally sipping her now-lukewarm tea while sitting at the kitchen bar counter. Chat Noir sat on the stool beside her in silence, also nursing a half-emptied cup. She checked the clock for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the last few minutes.

“It’s about that time. I’ll head up to my room to let Ladybug inside. Will you get the door if your visitor arrives before she does?”

“Sure,” he replied, uneasy but compliant, doing his best to avoid staring at the black eye she’d received earlier that day.

Marinette set her cup in the sink and headed upstairs, leaving Chat alone with his thoughts.

He tried to keep his fast-beating heart in check, subconsciously clenching his jaw. It was finally happening. He was going to meet “him”: The Guardian of the Miraculous.

Following the events at school earlier that day, Adrien had walked Marinette to her house, where her family invited him to stay for a cup of tea until his “ride” arrived to pick him up. Of course, he’d eagerly accepted. It was nice to interact with the family as Adrien instead of just as Chat Noir.

After leaving, he hid away and transformed so he could sneak in through Marinette’s balcony as he usually did.

Upon transforming, however, he found a series of voice mails from Ladybug that she’d left during Adrien’s attempted abduction. Her voice was frantic. He could hear the urgency and distress in her tone, and a heavy blanket of guilt settled onto his shoulders as he listened.

The first message asked him to come to their school, that it was an emergency, to please call her back as soon as possible. He chewed on his lip, wanting nothing more than to hide away in a cave in shame.

The second one must have been left right after she’d rescued Adrien and left him at the school nurse; she’d called to let Chat know the incident had passed. Then she asked if he was okay, since she hadn’t heard back from him. He sighed. Typical Ladybug, always worrying and thinking about others first, even when she was having a rough time.

The last voicemail caused a trail of ice to trickle down his spine as he listened. Ladybug informed him that she had scheduled an impromptu meeting with the Guardian at the Dupain-Cheng’s house that evening, with Marinette’s permission, and that it was of utmost importance that he attend.

He shivered as goosebumps appeared on his arms and he swallowed hard. What was the purpose of this meeting? Was he in trouble for not showing up today during ‘Adrien’s’ kidnapping? And why meet here, at the Dupain home, instead of somewhere more private and away from civilians? What was the Guardian like? Would Chat get reprimanded and treated with disdain for having been their enemy for all these years, or would he be understanding and forgiving?

More importantly, would he have to disclose his identity to him, or to both him and Ladybug, to prove his loyalty? He winced at the mere thought of it. The last thing he wanted was for Ladybug to think less of him, or to pity him. Especially after the kidnapping attempt.

Additionally, if they were to learn that Hawkmoth was Gabriel Agreste, would they want to confront him head-on? Adrien didn’t feel ready for that, for several reasons.

First of all, would he be able to protect Ladybug, as he’d promised her? Hawkmoth had shown that he’d developed some sort of new power. Either that, or an entirely different person had become involved and was helping him. In any case, he didn’t know what exactly they were dealing with anymore.

Secondly, if the time came and he had to hurt or even kill his father, he didn’t know if he’d be able to do it. Yes, Gabriel was a monster and Adrien despised what he had become. But what if the damage was reversible and there was still a way to bring him back to normal? He just had to know, before doing something he might permanently regret.

The sudden ringing of the doorbell startled Chat out of his thoughts and he practically fell off his seat.

He ran to answer the front door, looking to make sure no one else was around. At the last second, he remembered to detransform and slip on the hood of his zip-up sweater (the one Marinette had gifted him), pulling a scarf over his nose and mouth so he wouldn’t be recognized if anyone outside were to catch a glimpse of him.

He looked out through the peephole, only to see the very top of someone’s head, balding with grey hair, and a little bit of their eyebrows.

Huh. Somehow Adrien thought the Guardian would be a bit… taller?

He turned the knob and the door opened, its squeaking hinges somehow louder than usual. Peeking out from the side like a scared tortoise, he checked to make sure the individual matched the description he was given, then stepped back to allow the door to swing open all the way. The older man stepped inside, closing it behind him.

“Hello,” Adrien said meekly, bowing his head slightly. “You must be…”

“Yes. I am Wang Fu,” he replied, bowing politely in greeting. “It is very good to see you again, Adrien Agreste.”

While Adrien’s face scarf efficiently concealed the way his jaw dropped when the elder man called him by name, there was no hiding the way his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

“W- what?!” he sputtered. “How did you—”

The man called Fu chuckled, stroking his beard. “It was a long time ago, but we’ve met before.”

Adrien lowered his scarf and frowned in concentration, falling silent for a few seconds. Then it dawned on him.

“YOU!!” he gaped. “I do remember you! It was my first day of lycée! You fell down in front of our school and I helped you up. It was you who put the cat miraculous in my bag that day, wasn’t it?”

“That is correct,” Fu confirmed.

“But why me? You could’ve picked anyone, so why did you choose someone like me?”

Fu’s smile faltered when he said this. Adrien had said “anyone”, but he could see that Fu knew what he’d actually meant. Why did you choose someone as broken as me?

The man folded his arms behind him, considering his answer. “Guardians are bestowed with several powers and abilities. One of them is to locate and select good candidates for the miraculous jewels. And so I was led to you.”

Chat grimaced in confusion. “So if you already knew it was me, why bother to ‘test’ me?”

“My powers as a guardian may lead me to a potential candidate, but ultimately the choice is still mine to make. It was a simple test, but it showed me what your first instinct would be if you saw someone in need. The answer I received was satisfactory. You were meant to be Ladybug’s Chat Noir.”

Adrien sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Honestly, a couple of months ago I wouldn’t have known whether to hug you because I got to become Chat Noir, or whether to punch you because I had to become Chat Noir. But it’s because of you that I got to meet Ladybug, so I am grateful to you for that. It’s good to finally meet you. Officially.”

He extended his hand and Fu took it with a smile, giving it a firm shake.

Afterwards, Adrien’s gaze fell, brows scrunching together. “I can’t believe it. All this time, you knew. You could’ve told Ladybug who I was years ago. She could have figured out a way to take away my miraculous while I wasn’t transformed, like at school, and she would’ve had one less enemy to deal with. It would’ve––” he pursed his lips, expression full of shame, and he lifted his eyes to meet Fu’s once again, “–it would’ve made it easier for her. She would’ve suffered less if I’d been out of the picture. So why didn’t you?”

Fu’s countenance became somber, his eyes carrying years of pain and regret. He took a few moments to consider his words. “When I was a boy, barely a teenager, something terrible happened. Hundreds of innocent people died, and it was all because of me.”

Chat almost reeled back as if he’d been smacked across the face, puzzled about the sudden switch in topic. He remembered Ladybug briefly mentioning this a few months ago, on the night they danced together. He waited for Fu to elaborate.

“I was only trying to protect them,” the older man explained. “After I was orphaned as a child, the monks of the Guardian Temple took me in. They became my family. They were stern, but fair and kind. It was a tough childhood, but I was happy.” He sighed. “However, there were those who would try to steal the miraculous and use their power selfishly. It was an endless struggle. Many were lost over the years. I longed for peace. I wanted my family to be safe, I wanted us to be left alone. So I did what I thought would be a better route, an easier one; one with less hardship and bloodshed. You see, one day while I was supposed to be on guard duty, I sneaked away to where the miraculous box was kept. I put on both the ladybug and cat miraculouses and used them to make a wish: I wished that our enemies would disappear.”

The older man exhaled, squeezing his eyes shut, the memories of what came next clearly still haunting him. Adrien couldn’t help but hold his breath while he listened.

“It worked,” Fu resumed, voice quiet and slightly shaky. “But as you might have suspected, there is always a price to pay; a balance that must be maintained. Therefore, because of my wish, all the monks in our Guardian temple and the innocent people of the surrounding village were ripped away from me, along with our enemies. The wish was technically fulfilled, but I never suspected that the cost would be that high. I have had to live with that in my conscience for over a hundred years.”

He clasped his hands behind his back, appearing more vulnerable than Adrien would have ever expected. He continued, “Since that time, I have both seen and caused much death in my lifetime, protecting the miraculous box alone as the last Guardian. So, you see, if there was even one person I could save, I had to try. I wanted to trust in the miraculouses, like I should have decades ago, during my misguided attempt to control the outcome of a complicated situation.”

Adrien absently rubbed his arm, pondering Fu’s words. “Looking back,” he began, “I can see the reasoning behind a lot of Ladybug’s decisions and principles, now that I know your story.”

“Indeed. Ladybug is a remarkable young lady; I knew that even back then. When I would ask her if she was willing to risk her life for the sake of a stranger, she would say yes, every single time. If anyone can persevere for the greater good, it was her. Was it unfair of me? Probably. Have I asked too much from her? Absolutely. Have I made mistakes while trying to guide her? Yes. Many of them.” He put his hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “I wanted to save you that day by giving you the cat miraculous. But I never would have guessed that it would also doom you and force you into a role of servitude. I hope that you will forgive me for this.”

Adrien’s heart pained for Fu as he admitted his guilt. “You couldn’t have known it would’ve turned out that way. It wasn’t your fault,” he insisted.

Fu shrugged. “I try to tell myself that, but I can’t quite convince myself. The situation made sense once Ladybug told me about Hawkmoth.”

“You mean, when she told you that Hawkmoth was my father?” Adrien asked.

“Yes,” Fu replied. “I had my suspicions, because it would explain your motivations, but I had no proof, no way of finding out for sure. It made sense that Hawkmoth would be Gabriel Agreste. The butterfly miraculous requires its wielder to be creative and inventive, since it relies on their ability to convert the subject’s emotions into a source of power. And he had the motivation.”

Adrien hummed in agreement.

“Additionally, such a clever and talented individual getting ahold of the cat miraculous would be incredibly dangerous. I’d be lying if I said I had never considered taking your miraculous away. But even still, it was safer to let it all play out. I didn’t want to repeat past mistakes. And if Hawkmoth was Gabriel Agreste, your fate if you were to lose the cat miraculous would have been disastrous. Maybe it would have even alerted him about the presence of a Guardian in Paris. But now that we know the truth, we can plan accordingly.”

Adrien gulped. So Fu had considered taking his miraculous away before. “A-are you going to tell Ladybug who I am?”

Fu shook his head. “It is not up to me to decide when it will be right for there to be no more secrets between you two. I only know that it is not yet time.”

Adrien curiously tilted his head, brows furrowed in confusion. “How do you know that?”

As Fu started to answer, Adrien heard a doorknob twist open behind him and he quickly pulled his scarf back over his features.

The door opened and Ladybug’s voice exclaimed, “There you are! What are you two doing out here in the entryway?”

Adrien cleared his throat, then stammered, “R-right, pardon my manners. Please, come in.”

Fu walked past him, entering the living area. He took Ladybug’s hands between his, shaking them briefly, and said, “Wǎnshàng hǎo, Ladybug.”

With a small bow, Ladybug replied, “Wǎnshàng hǎo, shīfù. Thank you for coming at such short notice. Please, have a seat.”

Chat entered the room, having transformed now, and stepped forward to greet her.

He stopped short, realizing that he wasn’t quite sure how to greet her since last night’s development in their relationship, not to mention being very conscious of the Guardian watching them. He settled for a hug, which she returned, squeezing him tightly, and added a quick, discreet peck on his cheek. He smiled, feeling his face heat up.

Pleasantries aside and everyone seated, it was Ladybug who spoke first.

“Thank you both for being here. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

----------

A transformed Wang Fu stood at the bedroom window, curtains drawn, chanting in a language that neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir understood, holding the last of several metallic talismans he’d blessed and scattered around the room. The pair kept their eyes on him, marveling at the efficiency and care that he put into each incantation. There was something sacred, even holy about this ritual. They could feel powerful magic emanating from his form, invisible bursts of energy swirling about the room, dancing all around them in a silent symphony.

Ladybug cast a furtive glance at her partner. He’d been quiet for a little while, after learning about his attempted akumatization the night before. Ladybug had told him that it was Marinette who let her know, and that Plagg was the one who had informed her.

She’d called Master Fu before going to school to let him know what happened last night, and he promised he would figure out a solution. He’d spent all day preparing these special talismans, which would ward off akumas and keep them from entering this room. But only this room. He wasn’t strong enough to cast such a potent, long-term spell over a larger area; especially not at his age.

Fu, or rather, Jade Turtle, was silent for a few moments after placing the last charm, a silver one with indecipherable symbols carved into it, then turned around to face the couple.

“The talismans are almost done being enchanted,” he said, pretty out of breath, beads of sweat present on his brow. “There is one more thing that needs to be done. But I think I’ll need your help for this, Ladybug.”

Ladybug stepped forward in response. “Sure, Master. What is it?”

“I would do it myself, but, well… let’s just say I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Of course Master, anything you need. Just tell me what to do.”

Fu removed his bracelet, the turtle miraculous, and turned back to his civilian self, then handed the jewelry to her. His kwami, Wayzz, floated next to them awaiting instruction.

“If you could transform with my miraculous to finish the protection spell, I’d very much appreciate it. I’ll show you what to do when you’re ready.”

The young woman gaped at him, having never transformed into any hero other than Ladybug before.

“Oh! R-really?? S-sure! No problem...” She took the bracelet hesitantly, studying it like she’d never seen it before, then excused herself to the ensuite for privacy.

In the bathroom, Ladybug detransformed and removed her earrings, handing them to Tikki for safekeeping. She put on the emerald stone bracelet, staring at it as if it might try to crawl away from her if she wasn’t careful enough.

She squeezed her eyes shut in preparation. “Wayzz, shell on.”

Jade green light shone around the bathroom, and Marinette felt the magic of the turtle miraculous engulf her form. When it passed, she gulped and opened her eyes, lifting them to the mirror to catch a glimpse of her newly transformed self.

“Whoa.”

The heroine stared at her reflection across the way. She ran her fingers over the various bits of fabric and armor, taking the time to appreciate the feel and texture. Somehow, she felt quite powerful. Tough. Solid. Almost like a sentient brick wall.

“Wow, Marinette! You look incredible!” Tikki whispered to her.

“Aww, thank you Tikki,” she replied. “It feels so different, but it’s also really cool.”

Sparing one last glance into the mirror, she finally emerged from the bathroom. Fu was seated at the desk chair across the room, taking a short breather. Chat was speaking to him in hushed tones, but turned around when he heard her re-enter the bedroom.

His jaw dropped and he gasped.

“Oh my God, you’re adorable!” Chat blurted out. He caught himself and turned tomato red, then stuttered, “Umm! S-sorry, I––”

Ladybug (Lady...turtle??) giggled, stepping forward to stand beside him once again. “Thanks,” she replied shyly, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear as she usually did when she was nervous, but her hand bumped into her suit’s hood instead. Not quite sure what to do with her hands, she folded them in front of her as she awaited further instruction.

Tikki flew in front of Master Fu, bowing her head in greeting. “It’s good to see you again, Master!”

“Likewise. I hope you are doing well,” he greeted back.

Tikki flew over to Chat Noir, to say hello to him as well. “Hello, Chat Noir! It’s nice to formally meet you,” she chirped happily.

Chat beamed and answered, “Tikki, right? It’s great to finally meet you too! I must admit, you look a little different than I thought you would.”

Tikki giggled. “Did you think I’d be more insect-like? Maybe with six legs and an exoskeleton?”

Chat shrugged timidly. “Well, I mean… Maybe…?” ‘Ladybug’ and Tikki looked at each other and snickered at his reply.

Fu smiled at their interactions fondly, recalling times spent with loved ones, allies no longer here. With a small grunt, he stood up to continue the protection ritual.

“This way, Ladybug. Chat Noir and Tikki, please stand over there; we’ll need a bit of space for this. You might feel a bit tired once this is finished, so be sure to get plenty of rest tonight,” he instructed.

Tikki perched on Chat’s shoulder as he moved towards the edge of the room. They spoke in hushed voices as Fu instructed Ladybug and had her repeat phrases from his notes.

While they waited, Chat turned to Tikki and whispered, “By the way, I wanted to thank you... for helping Ladybug and keeping safe all these years. She means a lot to me.”

If kwamis could blush, Chat was sure that’s what Tikki’s face showed at the moment. “It’s been a pleasure to be her kwami. She’s the best! I’m glad you’ve gotten to know her and see what a sweet person she is.”

Chat smiled, cheeks dusted pink. “I am too.”

------

Many minutes passed, and Ladybug and Fu finished casting the protection ward. Chat helped Fu gather his things as Ladybug excused herself to transform back to her regular hero self.

As she re-emerged from the bathroom, Chat handed her a glass of water and invited her to sit on the bed so she could catch her breath and gather back some of her energy. “Welcome back, Lily-bug,” he greeted her with a wink. Ladybug beamed at him, accepting the water and taking a seat next to him.

Fu stood beside them, having finished gathering his belongings in a satchel. As he gave Ladybug time to rest, he asked, “Do either of you have any questions about the protection ritual, or about anything else?”

Ladybug replied, “I actually do have some questions, sir.”

Fu nodded.

“Master... why did Hawkmoth attempt to akumatize Chat Noir last night? If he’s tried it before, why did he not succeed during other nights?” Ladybug’s questions came faster once she got started. “Since he tried to akumatized Chat, does that mean he knows where he lives now? Is Chat even safe here anymore? What about the Dupains? Are they gonna be okay? How much does Hawkmoth know?”

Chat looked at Fu expectantly, realizing that he, too, had those same questions.

Fu replied, “The owner of the butterfly miraculous sends out his butterflies in search of a specific strong emotion, but is not aware of their location until after the host accepts it. He is able to learn some vague details about why they are feeling that certain emotion. My guess is that he was able to locate him while he was having a nightmare. So, no. He does not know that Chat Noir lives here. His powers have limitations, just like you do with yours. He is more powerful since he is older and more experienced, but even he can’t overextend the capabilities of his miraculous.”

He paused, stroking his beard, and contemplated. Then he asked, “Did something happen last night to make your emotions different from what they normally are?”

Ladybug and Chat Noir looked at each other, blushing furiously, stammering as they attempted to answer without divulging too much unnecessary information.

Fu raised an eyebrow, then chuckled knowingly, raising his hands to stop them. “It’s okay, I don’t need to know the details.”

“Umm! I-it’s not what you think!”

“M-master, don’t misunderstand–”

“Y-you see–”

“What happened was…”

“My guess is–” Fu interrupted, “–That Hawkmoth sensed your great joy last night, and became enraged. He couldn’t stand the thought of you being happy because it would mean that he is in the wrong, and his pride won’t allow him to accept that.”

Chat and Ladybug fell silent, looking downcast, as the explanation both made sense yet was immensely disheartening.

“There’s something else, Master,” Ladybug spoke again. “Something happened at school today. Akumas, but they vanished without a trace. I mentioned it to you earlier today over the phone. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

“Ah, yes. And all that remained was two white feathers?” Fu asked.

“That’s right. Could the akumas still be out there because they haven’t been purified?”

Fu shook his head. “Allow me to explain. Firstly, as Ladybug already knows, two of the miraculouses in my box went missing when the temple of the guardians was destroyed: the butterfly and the peacock. One of them fell into Hawkmoth’s hands sometime within the last few years. But after hearing about what happened at the school today, we can now confirm that Hawkmoth is currently in possession of not just one, but of both of them. Either that, or he has someone else working under him.”

“The Peacock… of course!” Ladybug gasped, voice filled with dread.

Chat looked at her, then back at Fu, waiting for him to elaborate.

“The Guardian’s Grimoire calls them ‘sentimonsters’, mystical beings created out of thin air using the peacock miraculous, which harnesses the power of emotions. They can be created and destroyed whenever the wielder desires. Usually they are simple creatures, designed to be helpers or perform smaller tasks. However, they can also be more sophisticated, even indistinguishable from other humans, although an enormous amount of energy is required to create these complex sentimonsters. One can even ‘borrow’ the appearance of an already existing person. In this case, Hawkmoth chose not to give the sentimonsters the ability to speak, so they couldn’t divulge their secrets, in the event that they were caught.”

Ladybug shuddered. “What the hell?! That is so creepy.”

“Indeed.” Fu looked over at Chat, who had remained pensive throughout this exchange. “Any thoughts, Chat Noir?”

Chat looked up at him, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. “I… I think I remember seeing the peacock miraculous in my father’s safe once. I only caught a glimpse of it; I just thought it was some of my mom’s jewelry he kept as a memento. I had no idea it was a miraculous. Otherwise, I would’ve had Plagg help me break into the safe and taken it with me when I ran away from home. There are so many things my father never told me… I’m sorry I don’t know more.”

Ladybug reached out to hold his hand, giving it a small squeeze, which he returned.

“You’ve done more than you know, believe me,” Fu replied as he unconsciously squeezed his satchel, which contained the electronic tablet where his copy of the Grimoire was stored.

He stuck his hand in his pocket and stepped forward, handing Chat Noir a card with his cell phone number.

“Call me if you have any questions, either of you. Even if it’s the middle of the night. Wayzz will make sure I hear my phone if it rings; he’s a much lighter sleeper than I am.”

“Thank you, Master Fu,” replied Chat, smiling. “And thank you too, Wayzz.”

“Thanks, Wayzz. Thank you, Master.” said Ladybug.

“Also, I must remind you once again that your identities must remain a secret until things settle down. There are negative effects that could happen if you are revealed too soon, and I’m not sure what they could be; but it’s best not to find out.”

Ladybug frowned. “But when will that be, Master? It would be so much easier to be able to communicate without having to transform.”

Fu shrugged helplessly. “I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that. We must allow things to continue to develop on their own. I'm sure we’ll know when the time is right.”

Ladybug let out a displeased sigh. Chat nodded, glancing away with a worried look in his eyes. Despite Ladybug’s eagerness (and despite his own curiosity), waiting suited him just fine for now.

After saying their goodbyes, Fu left the pair behind and let himself out with a final wave. The two heroes remained in the bedroom, contemplating what had been discussed.

After sitting in silence for a few moments, unsure of what to say next, a lightbulb seemed to light up inside Ladybug’s brain, and she began typing away into her yo-yo communicator. Chat watched curiously, wondering what she was up to.

Moments later, she hopped out of the bed to jot something down onto a sticky note from Chat’s desk, then walked back.

“Just because we can’t tell each other who we are doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be able to contact each other when we’re not transformed. Kwamis aren’t pagers, after all.”

“Pagers? What decade is this, anyway?” Chat razzed.

“Hush, you,” she mock scolded him, suppressing a smile. “ Anyway! Here’s my brand new, Chat Noir-exclusive email address,” she said, handing him the note with a wink.

Chat’s eyes lit up. “Wait, really??” He unfolded the paper as if it was a Christmas present, excited to read the contents. His eyes widened and he burst out laughing.

“ ‘[email protected]’ ?!”

“What, you don't think I’m great?” she teased, striking an exaggerated, Chat Noir-style pose.

Chat’s snickering only intensified and he nodded. “Oh, for sure! The greatest!” he agreed.

Ladybug smirked. “I made it just now,” she explained. “So you’re the only one who knows about it. We may not be able to hang out in person yet, but I’d still like to talk to you during the day. Plus, it’ll come in handy for emergencies.”

“Buginette you’re a genius!”

Ladybug giggled, feeling her face warm up despite herself. “M-maybe we can message each other when you have some free time? I mean… now that you don’t have to worry about getting akumatized in your own room anymore. Your bedroom’s pretty much the safest place in Paris now, thanks to Master Fu.”

“And thanks to you, as well, my dear ‘Lily-bug’,” Chat reached up to take her hand, gently pulling her down to sit next to him. “I feel much better already. And knowing I can talk to you anytime makes me feel even safer.”

She scooted closer, setting her head down on his shoulder. “Y-you know… you make me feel safe too, Kitty.”

Chat’s insides twisted into pleasant little knots, suddenly feeling rather warm. “Really?”

He felt her smile as her hand squeezed his arm, her other one sneaking across their laps to wrap her fingers around his own. “Yeah. I know we’ve only been allies for a short time, but I’ve already lost count of all the times you’ve saved me or sacrificed yourself to help others. Our partnership grows stronger every day, and I think Hawkmoth knows it. He knows we’re stronger together. And it’s only a matter of time until we can be together without these masks too, I just know it.”

He turned towards her, putting his fingers under her chin and lifting her head to have her look up at him. Their eyes met, her pupils dilating as they focused on his own, and he could see a bright blush blooming on her cheeks.

“Me too,” he whispered, as he brought their lips together.

She blissfully melted into him, letting out a small noise of contentment. She deepened the kiss, reaching behind his head to caress his hair with her slender fingers. Their kisses and breaths mingled together and they lost track of everything else around them.

A little while later, they faintly heard the grandfather clock striking the hour in the living room, then some noises as the Dupains shuffled upstairs from the bakery to get ready for bed.

Ladybug pulled back and they separated, his lips still tingling from her touch.

“I… I should probably get going soon,” she lamented with a small shrug. “It’s starting to get late.”

“Would you like me to walk you home? Or rather, to somewhere around your neighborhood?”

She shook her head. “That’s not necessary. Besides, I’m closer than you might think,” she added a bit cryptically.

“I wish you could stay,” he said softly, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear. He gave her nose a tiny smooch. “Just a teeeeensy bit more?” he begged, giving her the best kitten eyes he could muster.

Ladybug giggled shyly, cheeks still dusted with pink. She gave his own nose a peck, her lips soft and inviting. “Well… I guess I could stay just a little bit longer,” she said with a smirk.

“Purr- fect,” he said, capturing her lips once again.

-------------

Note:

Many of the events in the “Volpina” and “Collector” episodes happened in this AU, albeit heavily modified to suit the story. Adrien found the grimoire in his father’s safe, took it out to study it, and Lila stole it. Since Adrien didn’t act impressed about Lila knowing Ladybug, she didn’t magnify the lie and claim to be Ladybug’s best friend; therefore, Ladybug never showed up to call her out on her lie, and Lila was never akumatized.

However, Tikki did see the book in the dumpster and retrieved it, and Marinette showed it to Master Fu. After Gabriel discovered the book was missing and pulled Adrien out of school, Fu made a copy so that Marinette could return it to Gabriel, and Adrien was allowed to attend school again. Currently, Adrien has no idea that this is how Fu acquired his grimoire; he merely assumes that Fu has always had his own copy.

Of course, Marinette began to suspect that Gabriel might be Hawkmoth because he owned the grimoire. Gabriel akumatized himself into the Collector in order to avoid suspicion, and with Chat’s help, almost succeeded in obtaining the ladybug miraculous. Ultimately, Ladybug outsmarted him, got him to accidentally “collect” Chat, and succeeded in purifying his akuma. But by then, Gabriel had “proven” he was an innocent civilian and Ladybug dismissed his potential involvement as Hawkmoth.

----

P.S. Another note: Certain things that are similar but not identical to canon have been in my outline since the beginning, so I apologize if they're a little confusing (such as the protection talismans being similar to Ladybug's akuma victims' lucky charms or the destruction/disappearance of the Guardian Temple)

#Miraculous Ladybug #Ladynoir #Enemies AU #enemies to lovers #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Ladybug #fanfiction #Discordant Sonata #ML AU #aged up #Eden writes

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

That One Fucked-Up Rexwalker AU

OKAY so people showed interest in this! Cool! This is... actually you know what, yeah, this falls into dead dove territory. It's kind of angst with a happy ending? At the very least it's hurt/comfort.

Warnings: rape as psychological torture by an enemy party, later dubious consent by parties that are at least trying to make it consensual but the situation makes it difficult to navigate

This was inspired partially by the first chapter of this collection by @the-writing-mill, which features Obi-Wan getting absolutely railed by a fucking machine set up by droids who don't understand consent. I got to thinking about the set-up and slid sideways into a slightly different context.

So Anakin, in all his shitty luck, gets captured, as one does. Whoever captures him has strict instructions to avoid physically damaging him or permanently fucking up his connection to the Force, because they'd like to use him as a weapon eventually, but to play around with his psychological damage in whatever way suits.

We'll say it's Ventress, who vastly prefers horrifying physical damage for torture, or killing/hurting people's loved ones in front of them, and now has to get creative to deal with Skywalker, because for whatever reason, she only managed to get Anakin and not any of his friends.

Obviously, Palpatine is the one saying 'don't damage the good.' She doesn't know that, though, just that Dooku said His Sith Master said to leave Skywalker intact for later.

So the easy route to psychological damage is, well, rape. But she's not into him, and there aren't really any other sentients in her little torture castle, but last she checked Skywalker is really needy? She's picked up on the fact that this guy really loves Having people.

She handles it: strip him down, strap him down, and get a fucking machine involved. Naked and cold and with a pipe leaking from the ceiling. Let a protocol droid keep an eye on things so he doesn't have some kind of permanent physical damage, but basically just have him unceasingly fucked for like a week, sometimes edging and sometimes forcing and sometimes just really digging into the oversensitivity, whether he's awake or asleep or what. Nothing but air and metal, and sometimes Ventress when she comes by to taunt him. There's magic involved to up his sexual craving without making it any easier on him.

It's fucked up but he does get saved! Eventually!

Ventress did her job, didn't enjoy it, and doesn't care that he's gone. She has people to kill, okay, she's bored.

So, you know, Anakin needs time to recover. He doesn't try to argue that he doesn't, at least partly because he's having trouble standing. He'll be fine! Stop worrying, guys! It's fine!

It's not fine, everyone tells him, because that was fucked!

It takes a while to get back to Coruscant. It's normally a few days, but there's a disruption on the hyperlane they'd use, sooooooo they're stuck.

Anakin tries to make some calls to Padme. When the calls connect, she helps. Obi-Wan was part of the rescue team, so he's there to do what he can, but Anakin keeps flinching away. Ahsoka is helpful because Anakin's hindbrain reads her as Not A Threat, but nobody's telling her what kind of torture Anakin was dealing with, because she's Designated Baby.

Anakin is alternately overwhelmed by physical touch and craving it, and the fact that he just got the Force back isn't helping.

(It later comes to light that the reason he flinches from Obi-Wan and Ahsoka is because they've got the Force and a person with the Force approaching for that week meant Ventress, and that's--not great. And it's just a LOT and REALLY BRIGHT after his time in the Force-nullifying cuffs.)

So Anakin spends a lot of time alone, craving people while being deeply unnerved by the ones he's most able to ask for that sort of thing (his master and padawan). Rex is one of a handful of clones that volunteer to check in on Anakin until they get to Coruscant. He's not the only one who walks in on Anakin shifting uncomfortably and looking red in the face, but he's the one that actually asks about it.

Anakin, with some prodding, does not admit to the problem. He does, however, admit to a different problem, and asks if Rex would be okay with a hug, or maybe putting an arm around Anakin's shoulder, or--actually, no, this is stupid, forget he said anythi-- Rex sits down next to him and pulls Anakin into his side and just lets Anakin relax into him.

Anakin starts shivering. Shuddering. Crying, after a while. Rex lets it happen and tries not to panic, just rubs an hand up and down Anakin's arm.

They don't really talk about it, but Anakin does end up cuddling with Rex for a few hours a day while they try to get everyone home, and Anakin's kind of on enforced medical leave, so he can't really help until Obi-Wan comes up with a solution that gives Anakin a job directly.

Rex finally gets an answer to why Anakin keeps looking uncomfortable and close to tears but embarrassed about it. He doesn't, for the record, press for that answer. Instead, he accidentally walks in on Anakin three fingers deep in his own ass and whining into his pillow.

Which is. Awkward.

Obviously.

Turns out whatever Ventress did to him has him feeling incredibly empty without something to plug him up! It sucks! He hates it! He's been trying very hard not to submit to this need, but it's still there and he needs to be filled up and just snapped and had to do something about it!

This is, as you can imagine, not a comfortable conversation for anyone, but Rex tries to cheer him up with "Well, Jedi have stipends, right? You can probably find, uh, a toy, right? Once we're back on Coruscant? Or the Senator...?"

Anakin doesn't want Padme to know.

Anakin is also near tears but that's. Well. Rex is used to that by now.

(Anakin isn't using shipboard fabricators to make a dildo or plug because have fun explaining that on the expense report!)

So Rex is in this awkward position of having to comfort his recently-more-traumatized-than-before superior officer, whom he just walked in on furiously and tearfully masturbating due to said trauma...

And Rex is pretty much just like "Dude, please call your wife and have her talk you through the... whole... thing... I'm just, I think you'd probably feel less upset about having to fill yourself or whatever if she was talking you through it?"

They drop the subject for a bit, but Anakin is still Fucked Up in many ways, including new and exciting ones, and it turns out he hasn't been sleeping! And only sleeps if there's someone he trusts nearby!

So obviously Rex volunteers because fuck it, it's not like there's anything about his General he hasn't seen yet, right? So, yeah! Sleepy cuddles! Intended to be platonic!

Rex wakes up hard and flushed and with a very much still asleep Anakin grinding his ass against Rex's crotch.

Which, under significantly different circumstances, he'd not be upset by... But given literally everything going on, um. No?

Rex has no idea what to do, so he just kind of lays there and tries to shift away so his back is pressed to the wall and Anakin isn't accidentally trying to fuck himself in his sleep. Which works.

For about fifteen minutes.

And then Anakin is whining and shuffling back and Rex just tries to wake him up like Dude, You Don't Actually Want This, You Told Me You Don't Want This

And they separate and avoid each other and shower, and Rex leaves to go do Things while Anakin continues to try to meditate away what trauma he can before they get back to Coruscant for extremely long mandated therapy.

Rex shows up that evening to cuddle again, but Anakin tries to turn him away because He Can't Be Sexually Assualting His Friends In His Sleep, so he should honestly just sleep alone, right? Right, okay, bye Rex, Anakin is so sorry about this morning--

And Rex interrupts that he's not actually upset about it, he's just upset about Anakin being in this position, and Anakin doesn't actually want Rex so that's kind of upsetting, and Rex would be very open to this later after the war when they're not in a position to fuck up their entire legion with a change in dynamics--

And this goes back and forth for a bit before Rex realizes that Anakin does actually want him, and did before this whole Situation happened, and Anakin realizes that Rex is interested in him and NOT just trying to 'do his duty for his Jedi' or whatever.

And anyway, it turns into some very sweet lovemaking every night where Anakin gets to fall asleep with a cock in his ass, filled with cum, with Padme's blessing, until they get to Coruscant and he can find a plug for the nights they're not together (and also some therapy).

When Obi-Wan finds out they're fucking, he's actually furious and ALSO unsure of which one's taking advantage of the other.

Initially assumes Rex is taking advantage of Anakin's recent emotional traumas. Anakin protests that he asked Rex for this, and Obi-Wan is asking in horror if Anakin ordered one of the soldier under his command to do this, and it all just kind of goes very poorly.

Everyone means well. Nobody really succeeds at it.

#Rexwalker #Captain Rex #Anakin Skywalker #asajj ventress #Obi Wan Kenobi #star wars #the clone wars #torture tw #psychological torture tw #rape tw #phoenix posts #dead dove do not read #dead dove

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andypantsx3 · 3 years

Note

How did Todoroki’s secret mission go & was his mind on a certain veggie lover 👀 (If I Could Keep Cool)

“What the fuck was that, halfie?” Bakugou demanded, marching over to loom menacingly over Shouto.

Shouto lay on his back, panting, forcing himself to ignore Bakugou and continue to regulate his temperature. The massive ice tower he’d formed to get himself high enough to leap for their escape ride—a low flying, military stealth helicopter—had sent his right side into shock, and if he didn’t do things right, he’d end up with permanent damage from frostbite.

The ice tower hadn’t been the subtlest of moves, but then, their mission was already accomplished, and it wouldn’t matter much now that the minister of foreign affairs had been rescued.

Bakugou, apparently, however, was not as pleased with the results of their operation. “Half idiot half fucking moron, that’s your quirk. What the fuck were you doing, blanking out in the middle of the damn street? I should have let them blow your ass to hell!”

Shouto groaned, staring blankly up from the floor of the helicopter as the wind whipped around them. He breathed out a cold lungful of air, sending hot waves through his right side as he did, turning the air slightly smoky as it drifted up to the ceiling. Bakugou’s angry face intercepted his view.

Bakugou, for all his bluster, was not entirely incorrect. Shouto had, for the briefest of moments, hesitated in the middle of the removal operation, and for the absolute stupidest of reasons.

He threw an arm over his eyes. “I appreciate the assist, Bakugou.”

A booted foot jammed itself into his side. “Why the fuck did I have to assist you at all? The mission was to rescue this sniveling idiot, not your candy cane ass.”

Shouto could hear the calm tones of a rescue medic, speaking quietly to the minister over the whoosh of the helicopter blades, and just over that, the soft sniffling of the rescuee in question. He sighed.

“Something...caught my attention,” he said, hesitantly.

Shouto wasn’t proud of what had happened. He’d been essential to the first part of the mission, his ice quirk lending itself to a more subtle infiltration strategy—freezing all the guards along their route into the building—than Bakugou’s. He’d gotten them in and out in record time, with nary a scratch on either of them, and Bakugou hadn’t even needed to use his quirk at all. It was only as they were leaving the compound that the terrorist cell had caught wind of the escape and put themselves on high alert.

It had resulted in a wild chase down the streets of the small surrounding town, and even then Shouto had been more than carrying the team, throwing up ice walls to block the paths of pursuing vehicles and concealing their location. It was only when he’d spotted an overturned vegetable cart had he stopped, just for a millisecond, some deep recess of his brain dredging up an image of you.

Bakugou, thankfully, had keyed in on a sniper taking aim and had launched the man into the stratosphere before Shouto could move—a little too gleefully, in Shouto’s opinion. He could tell not getting to use his quirk had been eating at his former classmate all evening.

Shouto would have stopped the man in time, he knew, but it had been embarrassing that he’d paused at all.

He really, really needed to set things to rights with you so he could stop fretting over it. Preferably several times, long and slow, right over the top of his counters, as he’d been imagining for months and months now.

Another kick to his side broke him from his daydream, Bakugou’s sneering face swimming back into focus.

“Earth to fucking icy hot,” he said. “Quit ignoring me or I’ll throw you out of this damn thing myself.”

His threat proved not to mean much, as Shouto could see they were approaching the checkpoint, already descending slowly towards the landing pad. Bakugou continued to rage over being ignored, the minister they’d rescued eyeing him warily, looking almost like he’d prefer to be returned into the hands of his kidnappers, but Shouto couldn’t bring himself to pay any of it much attention now.

It was time, he decided.

As soon as he got back, he would tell you his feelings for you, and hope you accepted. He was fairly certain you would, but one never really knew with these kinds of things.

As he made it inside the checkpoint, however, and was returned his belongings and his phone, he found he needn’t have worried.

There on his phone was a link to a news video, your nervous face clear in the center of the shot, with a text from his manager sitting primly underneath.

Yue Suzuki-san 5:52 AM: You’re going to want to see this.

Shouto had never clicked play faster.

Garbage Fest masterlist & schedule

#garbage fest 2021 #garbage fest questions

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gumnut-logic · 2 years

Photo

His fingers played with the edge of the bandage.

It was the usual type. He was familiar with the texture both from previous injuries and from dispensing the wrapping to rescuees and the occasional brother.

Scott had been gentle.

Grandma had been kind.

But it was his hand and injuries to his hands always put him on edge.

His hands were so integral to who he was that the chance of permanent damage was a real fear.

One that haunted him.

Despite that, he was willing to sacrifice if necessary. The stakes in the life and death game he and his brothers played was worth it. He was willing to give everything.

But at the back of his mind that chance absolutely terrified him.

And this time it had been close.

So close.

The breeze tickled his unkempt hair, his unstyled curls bugging him as they brushed against his forehead. He should go back to the villa, climb the stairs and fix his hair, but it was awkward, ambidextrous or not, and to be honest, he wasn’t feeling it.

The volcanic rock under his butt was unforgiving and it wasn’t long before he was uncomfortable and had to shift. His arm in its sling hurt as he moved and he didn’t need to look at the time to know his meds were due.

But again, he wasn’t feeling it.

He just wanted to sit and let it all drift away.

But Virgil Tracy had four brothers, all of which were emergency responders and quite capable of labelling him as such an emergency and responding fast.

So, it wasn’t long before there was a soft step and the rustle of clothing as his big brother sat down beside him on the clifftop.

“Whatcha doing?”

It was casual and kind, but it said everything.

“Just sitting.”

He could feel Scott’s eyes on him, but Virgil didn’t want to do anything. He felt spent, exhausted.

Tired.

Ever so tired.

A hand slipped gently around his shoulders and he was pulled to his brother’s side.

Virgil let himself be moved, closing his eyes as his head dropped onto blue cotton.

“It was a close one today.” Scott’s voice was quiet and Virgil realised he had probably aged his brother by several terrifying years.

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault.” A sigh and the arm around him tightened just a little. “I’m just happy you’re okay.”

Virgil let a breath out, but didn’t say anything.

They sat there for some time, the only sounds the wind, the waves and the occasional bird.

His brother’s shoulder moved as he breathed, just a little.

“You know, you don’t have to do this.”

Virgil frowned. “Do what?”

“Work with International Rescue.”

“What?” His head came up, eye wide and seeking Scott’s.

His brother faced him, expression serious, but his blue eyes were soft.

Virgil’s heart was beating faster than it needed to. “Why? What do you mean?”

Scott tilted his head, his eyes drifting off of Virgil’s and out towards the ocean. “I…mean…this life isn’t your only option. You don’t need to risk so much.” His hand gestured at Virgil’s sling.

His frown grew so tight, his head throbbed. “We all risk equally. Me no more than any of us.”

Scott’s shoulders dropped and he looked down at his hands. “Virgil, why did you join International Rescue?”

Virgil straightened. “Why? You know why.” What the hell was going on?

A hand landed on his arm. “Just hear me out, okay?”

Virgil’s lips pressed together and he stared at his brother, holding back the protest that was clogging his throat.

The hand squeezed gently. “You’re my brother, and I love you no matter what. It’s just…sometimes…I wonder if you joined because you felt you had no choice or Dad pushed you into it.” The last bit came out in a rush and Scott’s eyes were so apologetic, Virgil realised this was a question that had to have been haunting his brother for a long time.

“Why would you think that?” The words fell from his mouth as he stared.

“Well…” And Scott broke eye contact again, preferring the ocean. “You were always so into your art, art school, those piano recitals.” He waved a hand randomly. “You have talent, Virgil. You love it.” A breath. “I do what I love. I just sometimes wonder if you felt you couldn’t.” A guilty-looking shrug. “That perhaps you followed me because you thought that was the thing to do. Or maybe Dad said something…” His brother stopped talking, leaving the thought hanging, but his lips twitched as if he was desperate to ask further, the blue of his eyes worried.

Voice quiet. “How long have you thought this?”

“Um…since you said ‘yes’?” The smile was half-hearted and a little sad. “You’re my little brother.”

Those four words said it all, and, as always, Virgil felt that flash of pride and love at being one of only four who could lay claim to that exclusive title of Scott’s ‘little brother’.

He drew in a breath. “Yes, I am, and, yes, I will follow you anywhere. But I am my own person and I do make my own decisions.”

“I know, Virg. It’s just…it wasn’t the obvious choice, okay? One minute you’re in art school, next minute you’ve switched to engineering. It was sudden and…well, not obvious.”

Virgil shifted where he sat and his arm twinged.

He ignored it.

“Mom was an engineer.”

“Yes, she was. But you’re not Mom.”

That set Virgil glaring. “And you’re not Dad.” He drew in a breath. “I don’t get it, Scott. What’s your point? I made the decision to join International Rescue of my own volition. This was my choice and I would make it again a thousand times over. I can do good here. Much more than I could mouldering away in some studio painting wall decorations. This has always been the case. I thought I had proven my capabilities. Are you questioning them?”

His hand and arm were really beginning to ache.

Scott held up both his hands. “No! God, no, Virg. I just wanted to be sure this is what you wanted. I saw you today. That blade nearly took off your hand. The thought of…” Scott swallowed. “I’d hate to see you unable to do…what you love.”

Virgil stared at his brother. His fingers found the edges of the bandage and began fiddling again. “Ditto, Scott. You think that thought hasn’t occurred to me in regards to you? To any of us? Gordon nearly lost everything…again. What makes me so special all of a sudden?”

“You’re not special. I was just worried.”

“Well, you don’t need to be. I made the decision. Would do so again.” He paused. “I follow you, Scott. I always will. But I do so of my own choice, in my own way.” A breath. “And I am doing what I love.”

Scott’s eyes caught his and held them a moment, before his brother pulled him into a hug. It was rough and tight and Virgil had to hold his breath as his arm yelled at him, but it was well meant.

It was Virgil who pulled away, forced to by his hand protesting louder by the second. To top it off, he wasn’t fast enough to mask the reason and Scott picked up on it.

“What’s wrong?” But Scott’s eyes were on the sling and the question was redundant. “Back to the villa.”

“Scott-“

“Don’t argue. That was an order.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “We’re not on duty.”

Scott pushed himself to his feet and offered Virgil a hand. “Since when has that mattered?”

A grunt and Virgil ignored the hand out of principle, unfolding and standing up with a creak. The fact that hand had to grab his good arm to keep him from toppling over because he managed to over-balance was annoying.

The hand did not let go and nudged him towards the path to the villa.

“Since when does ‘follow you’ mean ‘must do as you say’?”

“Since you chose to do it.”

“Didn’t choose that.” But it was mumbled and stupidly fond.

It wasn’t part of his choice to join International Rescue at all. It was a choice made by birth and birth order and the fact that even now, in his thirties, Virgil still kept a little hero worship for his big brother.

He would follow Scott wherever he led, even if it cost Virgil everything he had.

Because it wasn’t just about doing what he loved, but also who he loved.

And he loved his brother enough to give him everything.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #earth and sky #nuttyfic reblog #i am still writing #but RL slapped me this week and I'm flailing a little #will get back on track #I've hit Virgil with a car #I will finish it eventually #hugs you all

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

Just Close Your Eyes, You'll Be Alright

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 154: Soulmate au where your soulmates injuries and scars show up on your body tinted in their favorite color. Katniss through the years as she discovers new marks, pondering what it could possibly be, finally figuring out that her soulmate is being hurt way too regularly and in very specific places. Do her parents figure out Peeta is being abused? How do they find and “rescue” him? Or does Peeta live his whole childhood being abused before turning 18? Does he runaway? How do he and Katniss find their way to one another? [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone / @peetamewllark]

Teen and up

AU- Modern setting (but like without cell phones). One Shot.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Language, child abuse and neglect, injuries, implied (non-descriptive) underage smut. Nobody dies! Unbetaed.

-lyrics of Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift, Feat. The Civil Wars - Songs from District 12 and Beyond (2012)

Author’s note: Thank you to @lovely-tothe-bone for her inspiring prompt and to the organizers of EFE, for bringing the challenge back so faithfully, you ladies rock!

KPKPKPKP

“Look at her!” Papa screeched at the policeman, lifting the back of my favorite pink polka dotted shirt. “You have to do something about this, Sheriff Cray!” Papa demanded, angrily.

The man just watched, like he didn’t care. Then sat back down lazily, “There’s nothing much I can do, to be honest. Unless you can produce the child sporting the actual bruises, my hands are tied.” Said the policeman.

I had no idea what the problem was, I felt fine, but ever since my 5th birthday, every time Mama helped me out of my day clothes for my bath, she wept and held me close to her chest, whispering “No child deserves to be treated so poorly,”

Papa too always made a face and looked sad and angry when Mama showed him my back after my baths.

It was funny how bath time could easily be my favorite time of day, but it made the grown ups upset somehow. I just liked that mama would rub ointments on my back, bottom and thighs, carefully and without fuzzing about the time she was spending away from my baby sister, Primrose. Is not that I didn’t like Prim— I thought she was as lovely as a doll— I didn’t mind sharing mama’s snuggles with her either, but it was nice to just feel mama’s warm hands caressing me to sleep every now and then.

Either way, I wished someone would tell me what was so wrong with my behind that had the grown ups acting so weird.

They were starting to scare me, really.

“There has to be something we can do! There are genetic tests to determine matchless people, couldn’t we use the same technology to find the markers matching my daughter’s counterpart to identify him?”

“Mr. Everdeen, I’m not a geneticist. I wouldn’t know about anything like it… and who’s to say we could use it to find your girl’s soulmate? Then we what? It’ll open an unknown Pandora’s box situation, people would start tracking soulmates illegally or something less than honorable. It’ll certainly set a precedent we cannot foresee the ramifications of!”

“You’re telling me that there’s some kid out there, somewhere, getting beaten week in and week out, and you’ll do nothing about it?! You’ll allow the abuse to continue uninterrupted?”

The man nodded slowly, “You said it yourself, Mr. Everdeen. The kid’s ‘out there, somewhere’, we don’t even know if he’s local, or his age. In any case, I only have jurisdiction over District 12, and I can’t very well launch a country wide investigation on an alleged case of abuse, specially if we have no victim,”

“But my daughter’s soulmate is suffering! Who knows what permanent damage this poor child may have as an adult! It’s my daughter’s future we’re talking about!”

“Most unfortunate, sir. I don’t wanna seem unsympathetic, Mr. Everdeen, but unless your little girl can figure out a way to communicate with her soulmate, find… an address— at the very least a name— there isn’t anything we can do to help.”

Papa huffed, his nose flared, “Fine. Thank you for your consideration…Sheriff.” Papa put his big ol’ hand on my shoulder and guided me away, “Come on Katniss, it’s time to go home.”

I looked up at Papa and reached for his hand. I smiled at him, “It’s okay, Papa. Mama says to give grumpy people time, and they may be nicer the next time we talk to them.”

Papa smiled at me, but it didn’t crinkled the corner of his eyes, like real smiles did, “That’s nice sweetie… although, that usually only applies to people just waking up from naps, like you and me,”

I giggled when he picked me up and tickled my tummy.

Papa kept talking to grown ups about my back, but nothing was ever done about it.

———————-

I was 11 when our world pitched upside down.

Papa was one the foramen on shift at the town’s coal mine when the earth shifted and an entire tunnel collapsed.

Prim and I were in school when the sirens went off. There’s nothing worse than to hear the end of your world being advertised so loudly and without mercy.

I grabbed my sister’s hand and rushed to the mines; we found our mother there, clinging to the yellow tape cordoning off the site.

I should’ve known something wasn’t right when I was the one seeking Mama out, trying to comfort her, instead of the other way around. It was the first time the concept of a soulmate stopped being an abstract notion, and became a reality, because my mother stopped functioning altogether the moment she realized Papa had been hurt.

I saw how much a soulmate could affect you. It wasn’t only the marks on the skin— those came without conscious pain— it was the fear of knowing that someone you loved was hurting, sometimes badly, and not being able to do anything about it.

Mama’s left leg started glowing pink from the shin down at first, and the color began to shift to a darker red the longer Papa laid underground.

Unbeknownst to us, my father had been pinned under fallen rock and dirt after pushing a man to safety, risking his own life. The sharp end of a pickax perforated Papa’s leg in the cave-in. The pickaxe worked as a plug, keeping him from bleeding out while he waited for the rescue crew to reach him.

Papa laid on the floor of the very last lift to surface with rescued miners. He was unconscious. Had suffered extensive blood loss. The lone medic in the rescue crew couldn’t fix him up right away, but Mama was a nurse, and like a switch flipping on, she ripped off the bottom of her skirt, and tied a tourniquet around my father’s thigh, saving his life at the cost of his limb.

My father lived, but his leg had to be amputated.

He couldn’t work in the mines anymore, and what little money we got as compensation from his injuries, were put into paying off the mortgage, because Papa decided that having a roof over his family’s heads was far more important than having a leg.

The rub was, a roof didn’t fill our stomachs or put a coat around Prim’s shivering shoulders. Mama put a hold on her nursing career, obsessing over Papa’s care, despite his protests. Someone had to pick up the pieces, and that someone turned to be me.

I started selling everything I could carry out of the house in my arms: tools, kitchen appliances, small furniture, etc. But we never had many possessions to begin with, so my wares ran out soon, and I turned to our closets for their meager treasures.

I sold my parents best clothes, along with my sister’s winter boots that didn’t fit her anymore. I looked at my own shoes with longing, but put them into Primrose’s shoe rack, deciding I could manage with Mama’s boots, if I stuffed them with newspaper. Mama never left the house anyway. Neither did Papa for that matter, but he wasn’t dead, just convalescencing, so I left him a pair of footwear just in case, and sold his work boots and his Sunday loafers.

The day I was down to the last pair of clothing, we had been slurping on mint tea for the third day in a row from a few old leaves I found in the very back of the pantry. It was the last of our food, besides Papa’s bland diet, but I refused to let on on how precariously stocked we were, until absolutely necessary.

But, nobody wanted the hand-me-down baby clothes I had for sale, nor the slightly beaten stroller I was pushing around with my ‘merchandise’.

Icy cold rain, soaked me to the bone. I was so tired and downtrodden, I ran to the first awning I found, unwilling to go back home to Prim’s sunken blue eyes and chapped lips, asking for something to eat, while my hands were empty.

I tripped and fell face first on the umbrella stroller, breaking it irreparably and soiling the few onesies I’d been trying to sell.

With my wares ruined, and winded by a sharp pain shooting through my elbow, I limped towards a scraggly apple tree a few feet away. I recognized the place as the alley behind the town’s bakery, just by the smell alone.

I cupped my elbow, wondering if I’d broken it or merely banged it up? That’s when I saw the dumpster.

Big ugly thing, dirty and smelly. I climbed a wooden crate to dig for anything edible inside, but before I could lift the lid, a screeching voice shouted at me.

“Get out of there, Seam brat!”

I jumped off the crate, startled, and cowed behind the dumpster when I saw the baker’s grumpy wife sneering at me from the warmth of her kitchen’s back door.

A boy about my age— I recognized him as one of my classmates from school— peeked his towheaded face around the woman, and although they were a good five yards away, I could see his blue eyes widened as he took me in. The boy slipped back inside, as his mother spewed threats of calling the police on me and whatnot.

I started debating whether I wanted to trace back and drag my broken stroller over; pretend I was merely trying to dump it in the garbage, while inspecting the trash for food… but the baker’s wife was nicknamed the Witch by all the neighborhood children for a reason.

Before my mind was made, a loud, metallic bang resonated into the street from inside the bakery. Yelling ensued, then the sound of a meaty hand against a small face.

A few seconds later, the witch was chasing the boy out the back door, “Toss it in the trash, you stupid creature! Nobody will pay money for burnt bread anyway!”

The boy scurried by with his head down.

My eyes stuck on the bread in his hands, was probably the reason I missed the shiner under his eye. He stopped right in front of the dumpster, but instead of throwing the ruined loaves in, he tossed them in my direction.

I didn’t wait around to ask if he meant for me to grab them. I just scooped them up and fled like a bat out of heck.

When I got home, Mama gasped in horror. She grabbed me by the shoulders and pressed me to her chest. “Oh no! It’s getting worse. They don’t even care to hide the bruises anymore!”

Mama lathered my face with all the medicinal herbs she had at hand, while apologizing profusely for abandoning me and Prim to our own devices. She vowed to find a job, and to take better care of us.

“No child should ever suffer like this!” I couldn’t tell if she meant Prim and I, or whoever my soulmate was.

Mama interrogated me about my whereabouts and how I came upon the bread in my arms, but she seemed to rest easier after a while.

When I was finally able to look at my face in the mirror, I was horror struck by the deep orange bruise swelling under my eye. It took three days for the bruise to go away completely even with mama’s careful fingers.

Coincidentally, the baker’s son didn’t show up to school for the next four days. By the time he did, I had lost any confidence in myself to go up to him and thank him for the bread that fed us for a few days; the loaves were perfect! Only the crust had been charred, but I had a hunch the boy knew that when he threw the bread to me; I was also convinced he burned the bread on purpose, I was just too chicken to ask him why? Which made it even harder to hold his gaze when we crossed each other in the school hallways.

All I knew was that because of the selfless actions of the boy in my year at school, my mother seemed to wake from her single minded obsession. The boy with the bread gave our family a sense of hope, despite the fact that it would take some time for Mama to find work and produce enough money for the family. Papa’s medical needs had to be met as well, and he was due a new leg.

While those thoughts churned in my head, my eyes focused on a bright yellow bloom across the school yard. The first dandelion of the season! I picked the cheerful blossom, and the idea on how to feed my family until Mama was back on her feet, came to me.

After school, I took Prim’s hand and a clean bucket in the other; together we scoured the yard and the woods nearby for all the dandelions we could fit in the bucket. That night, we gorged ourselves on dandelion salad, and the next day, I pulled from under my parent’s bed, the only thing of value we had left in the house, Papa’s hunting bow.

“Are you sure you can handle it, pumpkin?” My father asked, watching me carefully.

“You taught me how to do it,” I said, trying to hide my nerves.

“I taught you with a smaller bow,” he pointed out, “why don’t use yours?”

I shouldered the heavy bow, and took a few loose arrows in my hand, “I sold it. These are all we have left now,”

After a handful of days practicing, I actually shot something worth eating. Seeing my mother’s blue eyes pop in surprise when I dropped the dead rabbit on the table, was priceless.

——————-

One early morning, right before summer break, I happened across another hunter… a trapper, to be precise.

A lanky, scowling boy, with three fat bunnies tied to his belt, and a fourth hanging in the air by a simple— yet elegant— wire snare.

I’d seen his traps before, his prey with their dead eyes and lolling tongues, just high enough off the ground to keep other animals from taking off with them. Papa told me that hunter etiquette was to be observed; if I happened across a trap that wasn’t mine, I was not to touch it, out of respect for my fellow hunters. That still didn’t discourage me from looking! After all, the snares looked like works of art, and I had no idea how to set any on my own.

“Stealing is a punishable offense, you know,” Snapped the boy, and suddenly I realized just how tall he was.

From up close, I could see the beginning of some stubble under his chin.

“I wasn’t gonna take it…” I stepped away from the twitching bunny, with my hands raised in surrender. “Admiring your work, that’s all. By the way, I’m Katniss Everdeen, what’s your name?” I asked, trying to be friendly.

“Name’s Gale. Hawthorne. So… you know how to use the thing hanging from your back, Catnip, or is that just for show?” He practically bumped me onto my butt, stepping passed me while pulling a knife from his belt to cut his kill down. He turned to watch me, smirking. “That thing looks bigger than you, are you sure you can lift it up?”

I scowled at him, wondering if he was expecting to see me squirm or something. I was smaller than the average 12 year old, but I was fast and scrappy.

“My name is KatNISS. I can shoot my own food thank you very much,” I held my bow aloft and moved so he could see my quiver full of arrows, “my weapons aren’t props or fakes,” I said, haughtily.

“Yeah, well, it still looks bigger than you,”

I rolled my eyes, fed up. Any other time I’d meekly shy away, and let him be; but I was feeling stubborn and confrontational, so I pulled my bow, nocked an arrow and let it fly, all in a fluid motion.

Gale gaped with a hint of fear in his gray eyes.

I felt smug and satisfied.

I wasn’t aiming at anything in particular, I just wanted the obnoxious boy to shut it, but by a stroke of luck my arrow pierced a falling leaf, and imbedded itself deep into the knot of a gnarly looking tree trunk.

“Wow! That was amazing, Catnip!” Gale said in awe.

“It’s Katniss… I’m okay, my father was better,” I said, puffing my chest a little, “I haven’t managed stealth yet, not like Papa before the accident, anyway. He doesn’t hunt anymore.”

Gale frowned. “Was your dad in the cave-in?” He asked grimly.

I nodded.

“So was mine. He almost didn’t make it.”

“Same.”

He just stood there, staring at the ground for a moment, then I tried to play cool, “Hey, I’d be willing to spare some shooting lessons, in exchange for some snaring techniques,”

Gale watched me, intently. He finally nodded and stuck his hand out for me to shake, “Deal!”

I smiled. Papa always said that good hunting partners were hard to find, and while I didn’t want a new hunting partner— I already had my father!— I could always exchange knowledge with a fellow hunter and improve my game.

——————-

Papa was fitted with a basic prosthetic leg. He couldn’t run or swim with it, but having the ability to walk without crutches gave him a “new lease in life”, as he called it.

He found work doing odd jobs for Haymitch Abernathy, a hermit drunk, with more money than he knew what to do with, and no family to spend it on. The man needed someone to talk to every now and then, and seeing as he and my father were close in age, they developed a strange rapport between them.

Still, Papa wasn’t completely confident with his fake leg, no matter how many physical therapies he attended; he still walked with a pronounced limp. Yet, he always had a word of comfort for Mama.

My mother often blamed herself for Papa’s disability.

He’d tell her that she did the right thing, that it was thanks to her torniquete he was still alive, and she should never doubt her own healing skills. But every now and then, my mother would catch a glance of her permanently grey skinned leg, and silent tears would slide down her exhausted, pretty face.

By then, I was old enough to know that the soft orange marks hidden under my clothes, meant a kid somewhere in Panem, probably my age, was getting beaten on a regular basis. It was sad to think about, but I’d grown so used to the marks, they felt like a distant happening without a meaningful connection to me. The bruises were there… just shy of a shirt sleeve, or around mid thigh, where they could be concealed by shorts; the way I saw them, they were like oversized freckles that came and went. A nuisance. That’s why watching my mother weep over her shadowy leg, was always unnerving and a little odd.

Was I supposed to despair the same way she did over my own soulmate marks? Was I broken or heartless if I didn’t feel as strongly?

Until I saw my mother’s grief over her soulmate’s leg, it didn’t register to me just how much the orange bruises were supposed to affect me.

I started to think if I wasn’t any better than the person dispensing the punches.

One day, I was leaning on my parents bedroom door, watching Mama applying soothing oils to her gray leg with the utmost love and care.

“Why do you rub so much medicine on your leg? It doesn’t seem to be bringing back your normal color,” I asked, staring where her fingers massaged into her flesh.

Mama stopped and called me over, to stand on her side of the bed.

“Papa is fast asleep, do you see?” She pointed out, kindly.

I looked past her shoulder, where my father was sprawled on the mattress on his stomach, dead to the world.

I nodded.

Mama smiled, “Do you remember all we’ve told you about soulmates? I’m sure they’ve taught you at school other stuff as well,”

Again, I nodded, just a little puzzled. “Soulmates have a very strong bond. They can’t feel when the other hurts, but they can see the marks, tinted in their favorite colors. That’s how we identify our soulmates, because we match and they can see themselves reflected back.”

“Exactly.” Said my mother, beaming. “Now, your papa and I are soulmates, and we love each other very much. When Papa’s leg was separated from his body, my body reflected that loss, despite still retaining my own leg. We match. The one thing most people don’t seem to realize, is that the connection goes both ways. I may not feel the physical pain Papa does, but I can still do things to my leg to help him feel better.

“For example, when he feels phantom itches, I scratch and his itching sensation goes away. When he can’t fall asleep because he’s uncomfortable without his leg, I massage lavender oil on mine, until he relaxes and goes to sleep. Everything I do to heal my body, and take care of it, helps my soulmate feel better.”

“Is that why you put lotions on my marks? To help my soulmate feel better?”

Mama’s lips thinned out; she didn’t like talking about the orange marks on my body.

“Katniss,” she said very seriously, “I tend to your bruises because I love you. I worry about your soulmate, because I love you. I try to keep you as healthy and happy as possible, because that will help your soulmate heal faster… because I love you. I can cure your soulmate’s body through yours, but I cannot protect his heart, mind, or feelings. Right now, you both are too young to feel the pull of your bond, but one day, when your bodies have matured, you’ll have this… yearning, to find one another, and then, I just hope, whoever your soulmate is, knows we tried to help.”

I cocked my head, “Should I be sad every time new marks show up?”

Mama inhaled a deep breath, “We should feel sad every time a child is mistreated, darling, no matter how we’re related,”

From that day on, I paid close attention to every child in my class for bruises matching mine. I also kept pomades and tinctures in my school bag, in case I ever saw another kid getting hurt. I wouldn’t say I started to develop deeper feelings for my soulmate after that, but I did feel deeper empathy for my classmates… I just couldn’t stomach big injuries, gore or vomit, but smaller cuts and bruises… those I could manage.

————————

“Silver Anderson figured out her cousin was dating her soulmate!” A girl in my year was telling a cluster of other 15 year-old girls in the locker room. “Do you remember how Silver has been wearing a turtleneck for the last two days with this darned awful heat?”

The other girls hummed their yeses.

“Well, is because Silver’s soulmate had a hickey on the throat, given by Silver’s cousin, who was his girlfriend or whatever. But apparently the cousin went over to visit Silver with her boyfriend, and one look at the guy’s neck, and Silver recognized the mark!”

There were gasps all around.

It wasn’t rare to hear of soulmates having relationships with other people before finding each other, but it was almost unheard of a relative dating somebody’s soulmate so close.

I finished tying up my shoelaces, and started rebranding my hair, making a mental note to double shampoo, to get all the sweat out.

“What an idiot! Who gets hickeys from their ‘whiles’?” Snorted somebody.

I wasn’t much for gossip, but even I had to agree.

‘Whiles’, weren’t permanent romantic interests, they were just to pass the time while waiting to find your soulmate. ‘Whiles’ were people to satisfy ones curiosity about dating and that kind of stuff, with no strings attached or substance; ‘whiles’ had a bad connotation associated with.

“Oh, the boy had never gotten one mark in his body that wasn’t his, so, he assumed he didn’t have a soulmate, and the cousin has already been confirmed to be a matchless.”

A big “Oh!” Swept the room.

Matchless were born without a soulmate, which meant they could choose to be with whoever they wanted as long as they were matchless as well, or with nobody at all.

Sometimes I envied their freedom to choose, but other times I felt a sense of safety, knowing there was a person somewhere in the world meant just for me and me to them.

Soulmates were genetically evolved to complement one another, but some just wanted to experiment before settling down. Lately, though, matchless births were growing in number, and that upset people for whatever reason, as if the freedom of choice was scary or a curse, then again matchless were usually whiles and those were looked down on.

“That’s awful!” Said a girl.

“I knew Silver’s near freakish obsession with keeping her skin pristine and hidden would bring her issues finding her soulmate someday,” Declared another.

“I don’t think she wanted to find him,” whispered someone else.

“Oh well, they did find each other! You can’t hide from your destiny. That’s just silly!”

“Either way, I feel bad for the cousin, because apparently she and Silver’s soulmate were talking about marriage, since they thought they were both matchless.” Informed the first one.

I lost interest in the conversation when it turned speculative, and stood up to shove my P.E. uniform into my locker.

Someone suddenly called, “Everdeen, how about those orange blooms on your arms?”

My eyes widened, and immediately, I dropped my arms, pulling my sleeves as far down as they would go to cover my soulmate’s private marks.

“Oh… um… yeah. My mother thinks my soulmate might be an athlete,” I stuttered; Mama had only said such a thing in passing once, when a couple bruises appeared that didn’t match the usual ones. “Also, he seems to work with his hands. Lots of nicks and scrapes.” I wiggled my fingers in front of me. That much was true, my soulmate probably wore those marks freely.

“Oooh!” A girl, Delly Cartwright, reached to take a closer look. “Could be a carpenter. Or a locksmith? Maybe a farmer!”

“It could be the blacksmith’s son! Doesn’t Silver have an unmarried brother?” Asked another girl.

“Yeah… a kid like 10! Ugh, Everdeen, I really hope he’s not your soulmate… can you imagine being so much older than your soulmate?!” Interjected the same girl that spotted my bruises.

I scowled. Age was a stupid thing to complain about. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to have an age gap between soulmates… my father was six years older than my mother, and Mrs. Sae from the Soup Corner at the market, was a handful of years older than her soulmate.

Still…

“No. My soulmate is most likely my age. I’ve gotten his marks my whole life,” I shrugged, absently rubbing my arm, where the brand new bruise appeared that morning.

“Oh… at least that’s something. Knowing that your soulmate isn’t so much younger than you, and that he might at least have an apprenticeship somewhere,”

“Right,” I said, turning away, wondering if it was awful of me to wish for a boy who never got marks on his body, like Silver’s pristine skin? At least that would mean my soulmate was safe and treated fairly.

———————-

Papa and I shared many qualities. I inherited his coloring: olive skin, gray eyes, dark, straight hair, our penchant for singing mountain ballads, and the same quickening of the blood when we got a kill during hunting. Prim favored our mother more closely, with their fair skin, blonde wavy licks and blue eyes, they also were more skilled as healers and more soft-hearted towards animals.

The day Prim brought home a half dead cat, riddled with fleas and missing an ear to be patched up and adopted into our family, my first instinct was to drown the orange pelt and be done with it, but Prim got upset and worked up, and I just couldn’t stomach her cries over what I considered to be the world’s ugliest cat… his face was flat, like it’d been smashed against a wall…

It took a long time to calm my sister down, and Papa made me pinky promise that I wouldn’t kill the fur sack and pretend it ran away, which I only did reluctantly, because I loved my sister and didn’t want her to be crossed with me.

Papa asked me to walk with him into the woods, afterwards, which I did readily.

Before he lost his leg, we used to go hunting all the time; everything I knew about hunting and foraging, I learned from him. But after losing his leg, we’ve only gone to the woods to hike and get him used to his prosthesis in the uneven terrain.

It was good exercise for him. The fresh air seemed to lift his spirits too.

We didn’t hunt together anymore. Papa’s tread wasn’t feather-like the way it used to be, prey scattered away before we even saw it.

It was alright. We enjoyed being out there together, and he still had lots to teach me about edible plants. Sometimes he’d find one of his old spiles, and then it would hit me: all his knowledge would’ve been lost if he’d died in that cave-in. I would’ve never known where to look for those spiles; I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to harvest sap and turn it into syrup.

Sometimes, I had to sit down and catch my breath when those thoughts knocked the wind out of me.

I was having one such moment, when out of the blue, my father spoke in a low, calmed tone.

“There’s a new chief of police,” he said while sitting on a log, next to me.

“I heard.” I wasn’t trying to be snippy with him, but every time a new chief or sheriff was appointed to our district, Papa wanted to run back into the precinct, and demand they look for my soulmate.

Appealing to the police never led anywhere. It didn’t matter if they had new staff, they always gave us the same spiel: can’t investigate an abuse case without a victim. They couldn’t go looking for a person without a name or an address.

After a while, one just started feeling like it was an impossible task, to help one child feel safe.

Papa sighed. “We could try ourselves. I’ve been saving some money, and we could—“

“What? We could what?” I snapped. “We could go door to door visiting every little town in Panem until we find the bruised up mutt matching me?” I was at the verge of tears.

Mama said that once my body was matured enough, I’d start feeling the pull. Well, I kinda felt it, calling desperately. It started around my 14th birthday, when I started having a regular cycle, and puberty was at its summit.

First, I was curious about my other half and began cataloguing all the soulmate marks I could see easily. Suddenly I had whole maps of my hands and arms, and legs. Mama suggested I keep track of my hidden marks too, just in case. The curiosity persisted and evolved into an incessant wondering: where was he? How was he getting along? How could I help him protect himself?

“Haymitch may have a way, sweetheart. He knows people, and he likes you… he says you’ve got spunk,” Papa smirked.

I’d met Haymitch Abernathy countless times. He was rude and sarcastic. I usually responded to him in kind, earning myself a host of reprimands from my parents— although Papa still couldn’t hide his pride, despite trying his hardest.

“What would he know about soulmates anyway?” I muttered.

Papa shook his head, standing up, “Haymitch lost his girl, mother and brother all at once during a special outing. There was a car crash. Haymitch was badly hurt, but survived. His family didn’t. His soulmate was 16, so was him. The government paid him excessively for damages and the loss of his soulmate, because it was proved the city had skimped on roadside safety that caused the accident. But money didn’t fill the void of losing his loved ones. Haymitch never recovered.

“He told me once that losing a soulmate is akin to drowning. Except you’re still breathing without filling your lungs with oxygen…” Papa picked up the bucket we brought to collect sap, and smiled sadly at me. “Katniss, I may be exaggerating by hounding the police about your soulmate, but sometimes I worry that if we don’t find that kid soon, you could very well share Haymitch’s fate. Believe me when I say that I’d do anything in this world, to keep that from happening to you.”

I turned 16 that spring.

I started carrying a small mirror on me, to try and look over my shoulders into places I couldn’t reach, obsessing over every little mark that sprouted anew on my back.

I wasn’t sure if the all consuming watching, and the doubts that kept me up at night, not knowing what was being done to my soulmate, wondering if he’d survive another day, was the pull Mama talked about, or simply terror at becoming the next Haymitch Abernathy. Either way, I became more vigilant for injured teens around me, but a sinking feeling in my gut started nagging at me, that my soulmate was an expert at hiding in plain sight by now… how would I ever find him if he was as adept at camouflaging as I suspected?

—————————

“This spot is perfectly in the middle of the turkeys’ path.”

I crossed my arms over my chest to glare at Gale, “You just spilled a bunch of blood there. No critter is gonna come this way anymore with that stink.”

“Turkeys aren’t that smart, Catnip,” Gale looked up from his belt after securing his new catch— his pants were covered in gore from where the rabbit nearly cut its own foot off trying to fight the snare’s grip. “I’m more than confident that if we set traps here, we’ll catch at least a fat Tom…more if we set up a system wide enough,”

After a somewhat rocky start, Gale and I learned to respect each other’s skills, even joining forces for certain seasons, like deer and turkey hunting. We also fished together on occasion. It was safe to say we had a friendship after three… almost four years of partnership in the woods. At 18 Gale was less obnoxious, but still a stubborn ass.

“And I’m telling you, the path is tainted now. We need to put feed on the other side of the bushes, to keep them in the area.”

“That’ll take weeks!”

“Then you shouldn’t have let that bunny bleed to death in here!”

“Listen here, Catnip—” whatever he was about to say, died in his throat.

“What?!” I demanded, angrily, when he just stared at me horror struck.

“Your nose!” He roared. “Your eyes!” He tumbled forward, and squished my cheeks in his one, long-fingered hand. “There’s more coming!”

I yanked myself away from him. “Cut it out!”

“I think your soulmate is getting the shit beaten out of!”

I grunted and brought my fingers to my face, as if I could feel the changes.

Gale had seen some of my bruises, enough to be sure I had a soulmate, but not enough to realize my soulmate was being abused.

I rubbed under my nose, and the tip of my index came back bloody.

I gasped. That had never happened before.

“How bad is it?” I asked Gale, frantically.

“Um… orange keeps popping up all over your face. There’s some running up your arm right now.” He sounded careful, but frightened. “It’s like… burn marks,”

I looked down, where indeed, long, fat tongues of intense orange glowed up my left arm. I’ve seen glowing marks before, but always in the tip of my fingers or the sides of my hands, I never connected the glowing with fire— burn marks— but it made sense. I guess my soulmate must handle fire regularly.

“What’s happening?” I pulled my little mirror from my pocket, to see my face, and nearly sobbed at the sight.

One eye was completely covered in orange. Burn marks ran all the way from my elbow up to my cheek, and part of my forehead. My nose had a tiny, bloody smear, and my lip had streaks of orange here and there.

Whatever happened, was bad.

“Fuck… Do you know where he is, by any chance?” Gale winced.

“No… but I’m about to find out!” I looked around for a place to sit, then pulled my small knife out of my boot.

Once seated, I examined my forearms. The flaming marks started at the elbow on my left arm, and went up on that side, my right arm was free of injury, except for my palms. Both were glowing orange, but not too bad.

“Okay… here goes nothing!” I gritted through my teeth, placing the tip of my knife to my arm, I traced the word, “WHERE?” crudely, and just deep enough to break the skin.

Gale made a face, but crouched closed by, staring intently. “Do you think it’ll work?” He asked dubiously. “He might be unconscious for all we know,”

“We’ll see.”

The minutes rolled by and no answer came. I was starting to panic; all I could think about was would that be the day I became the next Haymitch Abernathy? At least he got to meet his soulmate and have a relationship with her before she died; I had no idea who mine was. Was it worse that way, knowing them and then losing them, or was it worst to never meet them at all? Would I become soulless? Would my entire body turn gray? Would I ever find another soulmate? Haymitch never said if he ever looked for another, but I knew it was possible to get a secondary soulmate if enough time went by.

“Look!” Gale shouted.

A shaky “D12” appeared under my message.

A relieved gasp left my mouth.

“District 12! That’s good! He could’ve been all the way in District 4, and then what were you gonna do? Call the authorities there?” Gale muttered, clearly invested in what was happening to me.

Tears stung my eyes. I wrote: “ME 2”

We’ve been in the same district the whole time, and I still had no idea where to find him!

I turned the knife back to the first word, and traced a line under it “WHERE?”

The answer came back faster. “S H”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I moaned, “What kind of abbreviation is that? Ugh! I’m trying to help you!” I screamed at my arm as if my soulmate could hear it.

“Seam House?” Gale mused… “No, there are hundreds, if not thousands of houses in the Seam,” he said.

The Seam was the poorer part of the district, where people like us lived: low income families, miners, laborers and the such.

“Ah! Ask if he means Slag Heap? If I was trying to pick a fight with someone, that’s where I’d go.”

“He didn’t pick a fight!” I snapped, defensive and angry. “He’s been beaten every other day, since I can remember. My parents used to go to the police station every year to see if they could do something about it. Nobody ever did! They always said we needed to figure out a way to communicate with him… well, I’m doing it now!”

Gale frowned, “That’s shitty. I’m sorry to hear that. The Slag Heap could still be it, though. Many people go there to be alone… if they’re running from someone, there’s plenty hiding spots,”

That sounded logical, “Okay… but the slag heap isn’t exactly small, and there’s some woodsy area to consider too,”

“Mmm… asking has been working so far,”

“Yeah, but the whole mutilation part is getting to me…” I glared, he wasn’t the one cutting his arm, “I’m starting to get woozy,”

“You’re a hunter, Catnip! Blood is nothing,”

“Animals, Gale! Not my own blood,”

“There’s no difference,” Gale cupped my face in his hands, to keep my eyes on his gray, steely ones. “we’re all animals. We all bleed the same. Your soulmate needs your help, if I knew who mine was, and I knew she was in trouble, I’d be rushing to them… you can do this, Catnip,”

I took a deep, cleansing breath, and nodded. “I’ll ask him. As soon as we know where to go… could you please fetch my father? He’ll know what to do,”

“You got it, Catnip!” He let go of me, and I felt renewed courage after his weird pep talk.

Once again, I trace the tip of my knife on my skin, “SLAG H? WHERE?”

“YES NE”

“North East! I told you it’ll work!”

“Yeah,” I grumbled, spelling making one last message: “W8 4 ME”

“K”

With half a plan in motion, Gale rushed to find my father, and I made a mad dash to the slag heap, where years and years of dumping dirt and rocks removed from the mines had formed small hills and mounds at the edge of the district.

“Hello!” I called out loudly. “Can anybody hear me?!”

There wasn’t a whole lot of vegetation in the slag heap, only hundreds of disturbed soil pits and little mountains… some were tall and wide enough they’ll easily conceal a person or two looking for privacy.

“Anybody here?” I called again.

A weak cough answered in the distance.

I rushed in it’s direction, hoping it was my soulmate, and not a couple trying to steal away a few minutes alone.

“Please, tell me where you are!” I called before another round of coughing reached me.

“Here to finish me off, sweetheart?” Came a weak, raspy voice from behind me.

I turned around but saw nothing besides dirt, and sticks, and moss on rocks.

I swallowed, “Where are you?” I stepped closer to the heap in front of me, and then…

“Well, don’t step on me!”

I jumped back and looked downwards, and finally saw dirty pieces of flannel and denim, incongruous with the area, and under all the debris, I realized a person had dug a little wedge at the foot of the hill, and thrown the stuff he’d dug out back on top of himself. The disguise was clever, camouflaging himself into the terrain.

I gasped and dropped to the ground, pulling handfuls of earth out of the way. A jolt of recognition hit me when a pair of bright blue eyes blinked open and shut, slowly, as if fighting off fatigue.

“Don’t go to sleep!” I warned.

“I’m sorry, but it might be too late for that already. There’s an angel hovering above me, and I’m not sure I’m not dreaming it,” a row of white teeth appeared from the soil.

My knee-jerk reaction was to chuff and roll my eyes, but if he was throwing me those cheesy lines, it meant he was somewhat lucid, and it was imperative to keep him that way.

“How do you know is not a nightmare?” I countered.

“Because Katniss Everdeen coming to my rescue, and being my soulmate could never be a bad dream. On the contrary It’s only my deepest, most desperate hope, really…” he trailed off, and closed his eyes again.

I was momentarily frightened.

“Keep talking,” I ordered, brushing dirt off his head. Some of it mixed in with his blood and sweat, turning into a thick mud. I could see more of his battered face; my heart beat erratically against my rib cage, there were so many bruises. “Peeta, keep talking,”

His untouched eye opened slowly, a lazy, sideways smile greeted me, warming me up. “You know my name?”

I chuckled, startled, “You know mine,”

“Everyone knows you, Katniss ‘the huntress’ Everdeen!” He reached up, tentatively, and touched the tip of my braid, whispering under his breath, something that sounded like: unreal.

Just saying his name felt otherworldly; like breathing for the first time. I’ve never uttered it before, for fear of bringing forward memories of that awful day in the rain, by the bakery’s scraggly apple tree.

“And you’re Peeta Mellark, the boy with the bread. I’ve known your name for a long time, baker’s youngest son, whose kindness saved my entire family from starvation,” I cupped his injured face in my hands, and I couldn’t help the slight tremble in my voice.

He seemed to melt at the sound of my voice; then his hands came to touch my face. “I can’t believe it’s you. I can’t believe you found me!” He said, an edge of incredulity and awe colored his tone, but then his face fell, “But, your sweet, beautiful face… it’s all…” a fat tear rolled down his muddy cheek, while his thumb gently caressed my temple and the side of my face. “I’m so sorry, Katniss… I never wanted you to look like this! I always tried to shift positions, so you’d never had to see how bad it got. I’m so sorry,” he was crying so hard, he started to shake and cough.

It took inhuman strength not to cry myself; I knew he needed me to protect him, and there would be time later to fall apart and feel emotional.

“Shush, I’m here now.” I knelt next to him and locked my arms around his head, pulling him against my chest, so he could hear my heart beating only for him. “I’m going to take care of you.”

“I really hoped it was you. I really did…” he heaved into my neck, his arms wrapping gingerly around my waist, “thank you for finding me,”

“Of course I found you… I’ve been looking for you for ages,” I whispered, finally giving in, shedding some tears, relieved that the tension, fear, uncertainty, and frustration were finally gone. My soulmate was in my arms, where he belonged! “My parents started looking for you when we were little. But we’re together now,”

Peeta calmed down some, but he was still breathing too fast, “Now that you have me… what are you gonna do with me?” He asked meekly.

I smiled down at him, “I’ll put you somewhere safe, where you can never get hurt again,”

He closed his eyes. “I’d like that…”

“Peeta, you can’t go to sleep just yet, okay?”

“I’m so tired, Katniss,”

“I know,” I cooed. I had no idea I was capable of speaking with such softness. “My father will get here soon, and then we’ll patch you up real well.”

“I can’t go back to my house though—“

“You ain’t going there, kid!” Papa said from a few feet away. Gale and two police officers followed closely.

I must’ve been completely enthralled with my soulmate, because I never heard them coming,

“Even if it’s the last thing I do, I won’t let you go back to that place!” My father stated.

And that was that!

——————————-

“Tell me what happened,” Officer Darius asked in a soft tone, trying to be encouraging.

My soulmate inhaled; one eye was so swollen it was completely shut, his other one roved around the room nervously. Peeta locked his gaze with mine, beseeching, and I offered my hand in support. He clung to it like a lifeline.

“My mother asked me to burn a pile of leaves and branches in the backyard that had been there since fall, but the branches were damp and it was taking me a while to fire it up. Since it’s the last week to burn stuff, my mom got impatient. She screamed at me, called me incompetent and useless… the usual stuff—“

“Does your mother call you names regularly?” Asked the officer.

“My mom calls everybody names. I guess that’s how she was raised. Her mom used to call her names too…” Peeta shrugged.

“That’s no reason to keep the cycle going,” my mama grumbled quietly, so only I could hear her.”

“After insulting you, what else happened?” Prompted the police woman, Officer Purnia.

Peeta scowled. “I told her I’d pour some lighter fluid on the pile and let it soak for a few minutes, but she wouldn’t hear it. Said I was doing it wrong, I was too stupid, I would never accomplish shit if I couldn’t even light up some dead branches… and, well. I got fed up. I told her she could start the fire herself if I was doing such a lousy job… my mom… she—She doesn’t like to be talked back…” He sagged on his hospital bed, and turned his face away.

“What do you mean?” Asked officer Purnia, taking notes, trying to keep an impassive mask on.

“The first slap landed across my ear because I dared to move away from her flying hand,” Peeta said tersely, “She didn’t like that either, so she took aim again, but with the bottle of lighter fluid on her palm. She practically smashed it against my face.” He stopped to gasp for air, while his good eye filled with tears. “I think fluid squirted everywhere, I smelled like my hair and clothes had been doused in the stuff,” he raked a shaking hand over the singed hair at his temple.

I caressed his arm to sooth him.

He smiled gratefully at me, and faced the officers to continue. “I’d just put a piece of burning cardboard into the pile. I guess the leaves caught fire during the squabble with mom, and I must’ve lost my balance after taking a plastic bottle full of liquid to the face, because next thing I know, I’m bracing my hands on the ground, on burning sticks, and then I’m on fire myself.”

Peeta sustained first degree burns on the different spots from his left forearm, up. Luckily, his wounds were managed as soon as we got to the emergency room, and his treating doctor said he would recover, with minimal scarring.

“How did you end up at the Slag Heap?” Asked Officer Darius.

Peeta sighed, “My mom kind of freaked out when she realized I was on fire. She picked up a rag from somewhere and started hitting me with it…” he paused, “in retrospect, I think she may have actually been trying to help me, but… I just saw it like she was still trying to beat me, so I ran off. I tripped, fell, then rolled on the ground, she started calling my name, coming closer to me. I was scared. I took off again and didn’t stop until I fell at the foot of that mound of dirt in the slag heap. That’s when I noticed my soulmate’s note.”

Officer Darius quirked up a reddish eyebrow, “Your soulmate’s note?”

“Yeah… these,” Peeta tried to peel back the bandage over his arm, but my mother put her hand over it, and shook her head.

“Here!” I said, immediately shoving my own arm in front of the officers.

Both examined my arm. “How did you think of doing that, Miss Everdeen?”

“I was inspired by your bosses actually,” I snarled.

“Katniss!” Mama chided, and then politely addressed the officers. “You see, my husband and I have come to the authorities for many years, urging them to find a way to locate our daughter’s soulmate. You see, she’d started exhibiting her soulmate’s bruises from a very young age, which in my professional experience, were inconsistent with normal toddler scrapes and bumps—“

“The chief of police always said to find a way to communicate with him, ask where he was… so I did,” I interrupted, haughtily. “I got you a real life victim to investigate. You’re welcome.”

The officers stared at me, flabbergasted.

Mama made a dismaying noise in the back of her throat, but Peeta’s face— burnt, bruised and swollen— lighted up, with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen a person direct at me.

Mama interjected, conciliatory, “My husband and I believe, your department should have enough evidence to investigate Peeta’s case, now?” My mother’s searching blue eyes seemed to x-ray the officers.

“Well, Miss and Mrs. Everdeen, Mister Mellark, I think we have everything we need for now. Thank you for your cooperation. We’ll be in touch.” Said Officer Purnia snapping shut her notebook.

“Mr. Mellark, your case worker, Miss Trinket, will be in as soon as the matter of your emergency custody is settled.” Informed Officer Darius, right before wishing us a good evening.

Peeta frowned, “Are they sending me to like a home or something? What about my brothers? They can’t stay home with my mom… she’ll go nuts on them!”

“No, no, Peeta,” Mama spoke softly, “Miss Trinket is already on it. Haymitch Abernathy has offered his house for your brothers to stay at for a few days while things get sorted out. You’re welcome to join them, of course, but your injuries need supervision and several cleanings daily, so Mr. Everdeen and I feel it is in everyone’s best interest if you stay with us, at least until you’ve healed enough.” Mama hesitated, and then patted my soulmate’s hand, “I hope that’s okay with you, but if it isn’t—“

“It’s absolutely great, ma’am! Yes, I—thank you,”

Mama nodded, “Well, I’m gonna go get some stuff taken care of, and check on that case worker. Then they’ll hopefully let us go home… Katniss, I’ll need your help with something before we leave, alright?”

“‘kay.”

“Mrs. Everdeen…thank you,” Peeta said meekly.

Mama just stood stoically by the door, “You’re family, Peeta, it’s the least we could do for you.” The door clicked shut leaving me alone with my soulmate.

We were both silent for a minute. Then Peeta said half amused, half shyly, “I think the guy cop liked you. I caught him smirking a couple of times after your ruthless answers.” His smile was crooked. Boyish. I almost swooned.

I shrugged. “I don’t think he cared that much,”

“Are you serious?” Peeta laughed, “Katniss, you have no idea the effect you can have,”

I scowled at him, and he just shook his head. I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me or complimenting me. He changed the topic before I could decide which.

“So, you’ve been looking for me then?” He sounded nervous, and a little uncertain, “isn’t it weird…we are soulmates, but the only thing I know for sure about you, is that your favorite color is green?” He rubbed his fingers together, then showed me the tips, where he had dark green spots, exactly on the same place I had permanent calluses from pulling on my bow string.

I bit my lower lip, studying the thin spidering of green nicks and scratches, were I surmised my own marks have appeared after my daily trips into the woods.

“Your favorite color is orange. Not bright, but muted…”

“Like the sunset,” he finished for me.

Mind bonding wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities between soulmates, but my understanding on the matter was, that the bond had to be physically sealed before a pair could develop those empathic connections, where soulmates shared perfectly synchronized thoughts, as if they had one mind. Peeta and I weren’t there just yet, but it felt like we understood each other pretty well already.

He just stared at me in fascination, before his face fell, “I hope you don’t get permanently disfigured, if my burn scars don’t go away completely… you are so pretty.”

I rolled my eyes, pleased that he thought I was pretty, but not really knowing how to respond graciously. I’d never been called pretty by a boy before, not that it’d have the same effect as when Peeta said it… “You’re just saying that I’m pretty because I’m your soulmate,”

He smiled sadly, “No… I really mean it. I’ve had a crush on you since I can remember. I just new I belonged to someone since I was like 4, when I saw my first soulmate scratch on my knees. Your favorite colors back then were teal and pink. Your marks were always swirls of the two colors. I liked them. I liked that I belonged to someone who enjoyed colors, like myself… I wondered what your marks looked like, but then, I hoped you never had to see my marks. I was ashamed of them.”

My chest tightened, I climbed onto his bed, and pressed my side right against his, “Hey… I’ve like your marks.” I stuttered, “my parents never let me see the ones on my back until I was older, but I liked the ones you got in normal places. Yours appeared as rainbows where we were little.” I held his hand in mine. “I don’t care if we stay fire mutts forever, Peeta, the important thing is that we are together now,”

“Thank you for finding me,”

“Thank you for leading me to you,”

We leaned our heads together, and fell into an easy silence.

“Katniss…”

“Mmm,”

“We are soulmates.”

I tilted my head away, to look at him, “Yeah. We already established that,” I said suspiciously.

Peeta smirked, “You know, we’re supposed to be madly in love…so, it’s okay to kiss me whenever you want to,”

I snorted and rolled my eyes, but he was right. In any other circumstance, I’m sure we would’ve already progressed into couple-y, lovey-dovey stuff.

“If you’re already fishing for kisses, that means you’re healthy then!” I kissed his forehead. “But let me tell you right now, cheek and sass won’t take too far, sir,”

“It won’t?” he pouted, “then I’ll just have to swoop in when I see an opening,” he leaned into me, and I let him plant a peck, full on my lips.

My first kiss ever, and all I could register was how chapped his lips were… besides the small fluttering of butterfly wings in the pit of my stomach, of course.

“Well, time for a sip of water, and you should rest some too.” I said feeding him the straw in the Styrofoam cup full of icy water by his bed.

After he drank, we gravitated towards each other, meeting in the middle. Our second kiss was short, sweet, and full of relief.

I liked it. In fact, I wanted another, but Peeta was drowsy after the day we’ve had.

“I remember you used to sing, so beautifully, even the birds would stop to listen,” Peeta said, shyly… “would you… mind singing for me?”

“I don’t sing all that much nowadays, but if that’s what you want…”

He stared at me expectantly, so I had no other choice. I combed back his freshly washed hair, and started.

“Just close your eyes;

The sun is going down.

You’ll be alright;

No one can hurt you now.

Come morning light,

You and I’ll be safe and sound...”

When Mama came back, Peeta was asleep, and so she took me outside while my father sat in the room with the case worker, signing in my soulmate’s release papers, waiting for him to wake up.

“I want you to take these,” Mama produced a packet of medicine from a white, pharmaceutical baggie.

“Birth control?!” I groaned, embarrassed.

“Don’t look so scandalized, Katniss,” Mama rolled her eyes, “You and Peeta are healthy, newly acquainted teenaged soulmates, who will suddenly coexist together in close quarters. Papa and I agreed that starting you on contraceptives is the right thing to do,” she fixed me with a stare that broker no protests, “That said, we are not giving you carte blanche to act on pure hormonal instincts, Katniss. While we aren’t so naive to believe you won’t explore intimacy with your soulmate, we fully expect you to use caution, and make responsible decisions. Is that clear?”

I nodded, and snatched the pills from Mama’s outstretched hand. My face was burning with mortification, but I was grateful for my parents’ wherewithal and openness.

The next few days proved harsh and blissful at the same time. After 11 years pestering the authorities, Papa finally got the law to prosecute my soulmate’s parents for abuse and neglect. To call it a victory, was understatement.

Peeta’s father was declared another victim of the Witch’s abuse, but court ordered him to see a therapist and get evaluated by a professional, before he could come back home to his sons.

Mrs. Mellark was charged with endangering a child, battery, abuse and arson. She was court ordered to seek anger management and psychological counseling. She had been abused as a child too, and after watching her son in fire, it finally clicked in her head, that she needed to put a stop to the cycle… late as it may be. She went willingly when the police served her arrest warrants.

Since Peeta and his middle brother were still minors, they were temporarily placed under their eldest brother’s care; but the eldest brother was only 19 and had no idea how to be a father figure, so strange as it was, my parents insisted on having them all bunk in our tiny house, which was comically insufficient. Thank heavens Haymitch Abernathy was still willing to help.

The grumpy old drunk invited the lot of us to stay at his place for as long as we needed, and after cleaning up all the empty bottles and general messes around his huge house, we could enjoy the place at our leisure.

The boys kept working at the bakery, since they needed a source of income, and something to keep themselves occupied. Mama said they needed the normalcy of their business to cope.

It was a good thing Haymitch’s house was so big, since Peeta started having horrible nightmares after his mother was released from holding, after making bail; her trial was still pending, but my poor soulmate suffered severe PTSD from the events that brought us together. Neither of his brothers wanted to share a room with him at night…which allowed me to slip in when I heard him crying out desperately and fearfully.

Peeta would only go back to sleep after I laid beside him and sang, while carding my fingers through his sweat-damped, ashy blond waves.

“I’m not okay until I can see you’re safe,” he told me once.

After the third night in a row of this happening, I just stayed with him in his bed. My parents didn’t exactly approve— we were still 16— but there wasn’t much they could say to stop us. After all, our soulmate bond trumped any other familial bond; we just couldn’t legally get married and apply for housing until we were both 18.

Peeta still woke up in cold sweats at night, but my arms were there to fend off the terrors, and so were my lips.

On the night I felt a hunger so consuming and devastating, gnawing at me from my core, radiating to the tips of my being, I was glad my mother put me on birth control.

My soulmate gently, but steadily joined us together, cementing our physical bond for the rest of time, while branding his love and adoration to me into my very skin, with fevered lips and shaky hands. We gasped and whispered vows of devotion to one another, and then an explosion of feelings and emotions went off… I couldn’t tell where his life force started, and mine ended. We were one. Sharing a single soul.

After, we laid tangled together, our hearts beating as one. Peeta kissed my knuckles, and asked.

“You looked for me, for years. Real or not real?”

“Real.”

He kissed my forehead, “Will you sing?”

“Of course,” I combed back his hair with loving fingers, and sang.

“Just close your eyes;

You’ll be alright;

Come morning light,

You and I’ll be safe and sound.”

#alliswell21 #lovely-tothe-bone #prompt 154 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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yannowhatigiveup · 3 years

Text

My One And Only - Chapter 16

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Chapter 16! When I have new chapters, I post it on Wattpad first then here then on AO3 as fast as I can. I watched Gang of Secrets yesterday, I fangirled greatly.

Adrien hoped that Ladybug wasn't too injured, she's far too valuable and important to be lost, especially at the beginning of, what looks like, Hawkmoth's new rise of power.

"Something tells me things are about to get a lot more serious from here on out"

————————————————————

"-ngel, Angel it's time to wake up" Marinette's eyes fluttered open at the sound of Damian's soft voice. She lifted her head off of his chest and sat up next to him, the green-eyed boy nuzzled her neck much like a cat. "Sorry for waking you but I do not wish to have your sleep schedule destroyed"

The girl giggled. "Kinda ironic that the true user of the miraculous of destruction doesn't want to have my sleep schedule destroyed" Then she shrugged. "Well I suppose you can't destroy something that's already destroyed"

"You should really get a full 8-hour sleep at least once a week" Damian grumbled as Marinette got up from the bed.

"Tell that to my cup of depresso- I mean espresso" she jokingly replied.

"In all seriousness, though" the green-eyed boy got up to sit in one of the armchairs in his hotel room. "How will you create a new team of heroes and who will you choose to uphold this responsibility?"

"Simple," she took a sip from her coffee, leaning on the wall. "I'll give each new member a miraculous, the first to join should be Adrien Agreste"

"The model?"

"Yep" the bluenette replied, popping the 'p'. "Believe it or not he was Chat Noir"

Damian raised one of his eyebrows. "They do seem quite different at first glance"

"I know right! Anyway, like I said, he was Chat Noir and he admitted to believing he was not the true owner of the miraculous. Though he might not think things through all the time, he's willing to listen and he's a good fighter"

"Admitting to that must have taken a lot of courage. He is attentive and skilled in combat" the black-haired boy hummed. "He sounds like an adequate addition to the team you are forming"

"You're just as important in this team as I am, Dami" Marinette reminded before putting a finger on her chin and thinking thoughtfully. "I was thinking maybe giving him the dog miraculous would work best"

Plagg scoffed. "The kid's gonna go from a cat to a dog eh? I know he doesn't make the wise decisions all the time but-"

Marinette rolled her eyes and continued as if Plagg hadn't said anything. "What's the power of the Dog miraculous, Tikki?"

"The Dog miraculous has the power of Location, it's ability is to retrieve and identify where any object or person is. The ability can locate them, hold them in place, bring them to the holder and/or rescue them possible captivity" Tikki stated, floating over to smack Plagg on the back of his head.

Marinette mumbled incoherently before humming thoughtfully. "I also think we should bring Alya into the team"

"Césaire? I understand she is your reporter now but what other significance does she have?" Damian questioned, trying not to offend his girlfriend's best friend.

"She's the first one other than Chat and I to join the heroes, she was Rena Rouge"

"Ah I see so you want to bring Rena Rouge back?"

The bluenette nodded as the green-eyed boy stood up from where he was sitting.

"Wanna come with me to get the miracle box?"

"Sure just... give me a minute" Marinette tilted her head in confusion as Damian went towards one of his cases and pulled, what looked like, a training mannequin. She watched as he then drew his katana and slashed at the poor mannequin, it was obliterated. The bluenette winced when the pieces hit the floor while Plagg barked a laugh.

"Now that's destruction" The black kwami then flew up to the boy and rested on his head. "Good job, kid"

Marinette giggled as he rolled his eyes and put his katana back. "In all honesty, I thought you were going to do a lot more damage in the battle. I'm surprised you're not that angry"

"Oh I am" Damian replied calmly. "Enormously so, I have just merely bottled my anger. If even the smallest ounce of it were to escape then, well, I don't think Hawkmoth would like a powerful Akuma whose only goal is to see him suffer"

The bluenette walked up to the angry vigilante, wrapped both of her arms on his left and rested her head on his shoulder. "No I don't think he would" she giggled as Damian kissed her temple. "You can use all that pent up anger in training later. For now, let's go get the miracle box"

"Lead the way, Angel"

~~~

The couple were on their way when Marinette heard a familiar voice, one that wasn't a friendly voice. She quickly pulled Damian and herself out of sight, leaning flat against the wall to safely ease drop.

"Is it true that you know the world-renowned chef Wang Cheng?" An unidentifiable voice asked.

"Yep! He actually gave me Master Class cooking sessions, that's how I've become an amazing chef myself!" The others awed at Lila's lies, Marinette felt her anger bubble, no one takes her Great Uncle's success and uses it for their own personal gain. "Actually, I was the one who helped him create his recipe for his signature dish"

"Oh my gosh, really?!"

"Yeah! I didn't help that much, he did most of the work" Lila's voice faded into the distance, Marinette was grateful that she didn't have to listen to the brunette anymore but she was also worried, 'How many lives is she willing to ruin just for popularity?'

The bluenette turned to glance at her boyfriend, only to be met with a visibly angry expression still looking at where they last saw the brunette. Marinette opened her mouth to start conversation but Damian beat her to it.

"Who does she think she is? Disrespecting Cheng Shifu in that manner" The green-eyed boy snarled. Marinette blinked in surprise.

"You know Cheng Shifu?"

Damian then looked at her, almost offendedly. "Of course! He is not just a chef, Cheng Shifu is an artist. We went to a grand opening of one of his five-star restaurants, arguably the place I was served the most exquisite food throughout my entire existence" He placed a finger on his chin in thought. "The best dish I was served had to be his signature recipe, Celestial Soup. Though, I think the name has changed to Marine-"

He paused and looked at his girlfriend's smug face, he presumed his face appeared to have an epiphany. This thought was confirmed when Marinette's giggles turned into proper laughter.

"No..."

"Yes" she giggled, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "He's my maternal great-uncle"

"My god, your mother must be an excellent cook then"

"Yep! She's the best! Now come on, to my house!" Marinette dragged Damian towards the bakery and use her keys to open the front door. His eyes diverted to a wrapped package of cupcakes. "Oh that's for Nadja, she'll come by to pick it up in a few minutes" She then gestured for him to follow her. They both went up through the trapdoor and to Marinette's room.

Damian knew that his angel's favourite colour was pink so he presumed her room was drowned in said colour, when he entered he was greeted by the splash of rose as expected but he was also greeted with many rolls of fabric. It wasn't a messy mess per se, more of an organized and pretty one. It correlated with Marinette quite well in his opinion. The green-eyed boy sat on the girl's chaise as she brought a spotted box out of one of her drawers. Box in hand, Marinette sat next to Damian and pressed a button, opening one of the cabinets and out of the cabinet appeared a new kwami.

"Hello, Great Guardian" The kwami began. "Do you need my help?"

"Hello Barkk, there's really no need to address me so formally" Marinette replied to Barkk, fidgeting her fingers. "And yes, I believe it's time for you to get a permanent holder"

"Really? Great! But what happened for you to make this decision?" The kwami noticed how Marinette flinched at the question and flew closer. The kwami gasped. "Nooroo's energy... did Hawkmoth do something?"

"He did" The sudden appearance of Damian's sharp voice made the Kwami rise slightly.

"Who-"

"Lover-boy over here is my true chosen, Barkk" Plagg and Tikki appeared through the floor after eating downstairs.

"Hmm, he does seem to have your energy"

"Yes Barkk, Damian is the true user of the Black Cat miraculous. He's also my boyfriend" Marinette's cheeks were dusted with the lightest shade of pink, they grew deeper in colour as Damian pressed his lips against her skin. "We were thinking of having Adrien use your miraculous and Alya using Trixx's miraculous" The bluenette stated, half-glaring at the green-eyed boy for getting her flustered.

"I think he'll be a great fit for the Dog miraculous" Barkk replied, happy to have a new permanent holder.

"Alright!" Marinette took the collar necklace from the compartment, followed by the necklace. The bluenette turned to face Damian, the collar necklace in her palm. "You can give Adrien his new miraculous, I'll go find Alya and we meet at the Eiffel Tower. It'll save time"

"But shouldn't you give the miraculous? Considering you are the guardian after all" he questioned.

The bluenette shook her head. "Its a good way to get to know each other because, well, you'll technically be my partner meaning that you're one of the leaders of this new team. You need to know who you're working with and you need to trust them to save your life, if it were to come to that"

Damian slowly nodded, reaching for the collar necklace. "Meet you at the Eiffel Tower then"

~~~

A certain blonde was strolling down an empty street in Paris, in sun was setting and it was deathly quiet. Luckily, his schedule was cleared for the whole day. However, had no idea how to spend his last few hours of freedom. Usually he would go out as Chat Noir and jump from rooftop to rooftop. But he wasn't Chat anymore. Adrien winced at the reminder of the events that occurred early that day, he felt so useless. Thank god for Noir. 'That is his name right? He's incredibly attractive, the hero has only showed up once and he's giving me a run for my money' Adrien couldn't help the flash of red that appeared on his face before pushing it down completely. 'If Kagami talked to me the way he normally sounds then...'

His train of thoughts stopped when a figure landed in front of him. His first instinct was to get into a protective stance, which he did, but he recognised the figure as Noir, the mysterious hero that saved Ladybug earlier, so he dropped his stance.

"Hi Noir, what can I do for you?" Adrien questioned trying to act poised when he knew the only suave one here was Noir himself. He was totally not fanboying over the new hero, no way.

"Adrien Agreste" The black cat-themed hero began. "I'm sure you are aware of the... predicament that occurred earlier today, considering the fact that you were a witness of the whole ordeal"

"Yeah..." Adrien tried to look at anything other than Noir, but he sighed as he failed.

"Knowing that Hawkmoth has had an increase in power, Ladybug and I have come to the joint decision to have other permanent holders and form a team of superheroes." Noir looked at the blonde straight in the eye.

"And you want me to be a part of the team?" The blonde's eyes widened as Noir nodded.

"You were Ladybug's first choice"

"I- really?" Adrien stuttered out in disbelief, 'She still wants me to have a miraculous? Even though I couldn't do anything today?'

"You were Chat Noir, my predecessor, were you not? I have a lot to live up to" Though Adrien couldn't see most of the hero's face, he could see his eyes and the encouragement that shone through. "Do you wish to help us?"

"Absolutely" the blonde wasted no time in confirming.

Noir nodded and pulled out a box. "Adrien Agreste, this is the dog miraculous of Location. Ladybug has entrusted me to entrust this miraculous to you, you shall use it for the greater good. Can we trust you?"

Adrien carefully took the box and nodded with determination. He opened the box and, similarly with Plagg, a small peach-colored glowing orb spun around him. When the light died down, a dog kwami was facing him. "Hello, Adrien. My name is Barkk. To transform say: 'Barkk, to the rescue!'" He out the collar around his neck.

"Barkk, to the rescue!" The blonde was engulfed in peach-colored light, leaving a new superhero when it died down. Adrien now stood in a brown suit with a white belly reaching up to his neck, white boots, white gloves, brown floppy dog ears that contrasted well with his blonde hair. He also had a short, brown, metallic tail that which on command, would appear in his hand as a boomerang-shaped weapon. The blonde found out that it could be pulled apart into two separate rods and that with a flick of the wrist, the boomerang could snap into place like a baton, similar with his staff as Chat Noir. "Pawsome!"

Noir nodded. "It would be best if we head to the Eiffel Tower as soon as possible, Ladybug and Rena Rouge are probably waiting for us" The cat-themed hero then used his staff to propel himself in the direction of the city's landmark, Adrien followed closely, his new powers allowed him to jump like Rena. Sure enough, both heroes arrived on the building where two heroine's were waiting.

"I was wondering when you were going to get here" Ladybug's voice rang out, stepping out from the shadows. Noir had transformed and left before Ladybug had but now he wished he was there to see it.

The spotted heroine's suit had changed greatly. The top part of her suit had changed to black, running down her arms fading to the familiar red. The bottom part of her suit remained the same red with black spots but she had matte-black along the bottom part of her legs, mimicking boots. The long ribbons in her hair remained the same except they faded to black at the tips. Noir looked away to stop his cheeks from getting any redder than they already were.

"Something wrong, Minou?" She asked teasingly.

"Tt, of course not"

Ladybug giggled while Rena and the dog-themed hero exchanged knowing glances. The spotted heroine turned to Adrien and gestured for him to introduce himself.

"Oh, I'm Le Chien"

"Well, Le Chien, Rena, Noir, we have some training we need to do"

~~~

By the end of their patrol and training session, Le Chien was exhausted. He bid the other heroes farewell and detransformed. Giving Barkk a sugar biscuit, which honestly smelt a lot better than Camember, Adrien ran down the Seine, hoping to meet up with two people in particular. Said figures appeared in the distance and when he was closer enough, Adrien pushed himself in between the two and placed one arm over each shoulder.

"Hey you two, what's up?" Adrien asked.

"We just wanted to watch the sunset" Kagami answered, "Right Luka?"

"Yes, the sky is very beautiful at sunset" The guitarist answered. Suddenly all three of their phones chimed. "Chloe's inviting us for a sleepover at the hotel"

"Did she say who would be there?" The bluenette asked.

"She invited us, Alya, Nino couldn't make it, Marinette and... Damian? Do you know who that is?" Luka looked between the blonde and the bluenette.

"No, never heard the name before" Adrien's oblivious self replied.

Kagami hummed, both boys looked at her in confusion. "You'll find out who he is later and before you ask, I know who he is. Now let's go get the things necessary for this sleepover"

~~~

When the trio arrived at Chloe's door, they were greeted by both the blonde herself and Alya.

"Hi Chloe, Hi Alya" Luka greeted the two.

"Just come on in already, the movie's about to start!" Chloe walked away from the door to sit on a space on her sofa out of the current view of the two bluenettes and blonde.

"What movie are we watching?" Kagami asked, entering the room first.

"Une Petite Frayeur, it was premiered just last week" Alya replied, "I don't know what the genre is yet, Chloe is refusing to tell" The brunette with glasses led them to the sofa, the coffee table decked out in snacks.

"Please don't tell me it's a horror movie" a soft voice whined.

"Oh, hi Marinette! We-" Adrien stopped mid sentence when he noticed Marinette sitting next to an unfamiliar figure. He walked up to the both of them and when he got close enough, he started spluttering. After a good minute, he managed to say words. "This man isn't doing anything yet he's a better model than me! You are waytoo attractive for your own good. Y-you're illegally attractive! I'm gonna have to take your good-looking license away"

Adrien held out his hand much like a police officer, one of Damian's eye brows shot up in amusement while Marinette giggled at the display. The bluenette looked Adrien in the eye, wrapped her arms around her boyfriend. "No" she deadpanned.

"Adrien, Luka, Kagami" Marinette got the other two's attention. "This is Damian, my boyfriend"

"Pleasure to finally meet you, Damian" Kagami held out her hand which the green-eyed boy took.

"Likewise"

"Wait you two know each other?" Adrien asked, his mind thinking of many different things at once.

"That explain's why Melody's music has changed"

"Alright enough chit-chat, let's watch the movie already!" Chloe cut in through the conversation.

"What genre is it?" Marinette timidly asked.

Chloe looked straight into the bluenette's eyes and smirked. "Horror"

~~~

Luckily the film wasn't that scary, well actually it was but the teens were busy arguing about how stupid and unrealistic the plot was.

"The murderer manages to get from point A to point B going at legit 2 kilometers per hour before the main protagonist, who just so happens to be sprinting, and they're insisting that they're human?!"

"Now you understand my frustration!"

"Well... he could've been running off-camera...?!"

"Well that wasn't implied!"

The rest of the sleepover was relatively quiet, at around midnight most of them had fallen asleep. If Alya, who were awake, managed to get a picture of Marinette cuddled in Damian's arms while they were asleep, the couple wouldn't know.

All but Chloe left in the morning after breakfast, Kitty Section would be practicing on the Liberty and Kagami came to watch. Alya would be on a date with Nino and Chloe was going to spend time with her parents, leaving Damian and Marinette free for the day. They decided just to spend the rest of their free time at Marinette's house, she had some commissions she needed to finish and Damian wanted to paint on her balcony.

When Marinette went up to her balcony through her trapdoor, she saw Damian sitting on the floor with some watercolour paint next to him. The bluenette had never been able to master using watercolours but she loved the way the paint looked. Peering over his shoulder, Marinette saw a realistic piece of the Notre Dame Cathedral and the air nearly escaped her, it was incredibly detailed. From the piece of artwork itself, the bluenette envisioned many pieces she could create and rushed to her sketchbook so her ideas could be on paper.

In the end, Damian gave the artwork to her so she could get inspiration whenever she wanted. He kissed her goodbye, since she had school the next day, and went back to the hotel.

~~~

"Marinette! You're going to be late!" Tikki's voice echoed in the bluenette's ears.

"Oh! Thanks Tikki!" Marinette shot out of bed, got changed, grabbed a croissant and rushed out the bakery, eating the croissant on her way. Alya was there waiting as usual.

"Hey girl!" The reporter called out after noticing her best friend, the bluenette waved back.

"Hey Alya!"

"Wow, this is probably the first time you've been early in a long time!" Marinette huffed while they both went to their lockers.

They found the room empty when the two arrived, making it easier to converse. As Alya was about to mention the photo she took of Marinette and the green-eyed boy, the bluenette winced, clutching her chest. The reporter rushed to her best friend's side but the blue-eyed girl ran to the bathroom, Alya followed not far behind. When the girl entered, she found Marinette in front of the sink, double-over with tears of pain threatening to spill. Not knowing what else to do, Alya went over to inspect where Marinette's hand was clutching, presuming that was the source of her pain. It was in the space of her curves, 'Isn't that the...' Alya gasped and looked at Marinette. It was so obvious, why hadn't she seen it sooner?

"Marinette?"

The bluenette looked at her best friend with a look that told her to continue.

"...You're Ladybug, aren't you?"

———

Taglist: @little-bluestar,@miracleofadisaster,@frieddonutsweets,@jjmjjktth,@genderfluidmoma,@starlit-dreaming,@icerosecrystal,@lolieg,@kashlyn,@mochegato,@eggadoodle,@walkingthroughonautopilot,@toodaloo-kangaroo,@lady-bee-fechin

#daminette #damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #marinette x damian #damianette #mlb x dc #ml x dc

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