#shes sooooo. so. i think about the armor every once in a while and its like they're so silly but also

[dungeon-meshi-tournament]

Of course asking people which monster they find more fuckable is a good way to get them to say funny things, so I got a lot of funny comments on the Most Fuckable Monster in the Dungeon Tournament. So as usual, I compiled a list of the ones I liked best, ordered by the poll they were commented on. Enjoy!

Barometz vs Dryad (round 1 part 1)

dryad boobs in my mouth please please please you're nothing

Man-eating plant vs Mandrake (round 1 part 1)

getting my dick digested by a pitcher plant

its what laios would have wanted

Skeleton vs Dullahan (round 1 part 1)

why is the armor sweeping?? how are ya'll planning to fuck the armor??? at least the skeleton you could like wedge a vibrator or fleshlight into the pelvis. I forgot this is the celibacy site and fucking is not a real physical thing on here

fools do not see the eroticisim of plate armor

Phoenix vs Harpy (round 1 part 2)

harpy has a tits out kinda look

Griffin vs Hippogriff (round 1 part 2)

Me at first: really? You’d fuck the horse? Me, remembering the barded penises of felines : no wait you’re right

White dragon vs Red dragon (round 1 part 3)

It's canon that white dragons fight furiously while red dragon is the equivalent of that blue hands dinosaur in Prehistoric Planet

white dragon is cuntier somehow

Treasure insects vs Succubus (round 1 part 3)

another tits out kinda look

normal poll matchup. normal poll. do people want to fuck a succubus or inch long insects. who will win

Huge scorpion vs Huge spider vs Mimic (round 1 part 3)

What you do to the mimic is hidden from the eyes of all

The mimics got that dog in it

dark souls mimic resemblances have me thinking unwise

something about the mysterious air around the mimic

Golem vs Ice golem (round 1 part 4)

Same deal but one freezes ur junk off I think the winner is clear

Gargoyle vs Hag (round 1 part 4)

..abusive mother kink????

Familiar vs Jack Frost (round 1 part 4)

familiar is customizable 👍

Doppelganger vs Demon (round 1 part 4)

That stupid sexy cat simply slays too much cunt

Hippogriff vs Fish-man (round 2 part 1)

no offense to my buddy fish-man but that hippogriff is too majestic

Living armour vs Undine (round 2 part 2)

One if the extras has a really perturving bit: Undines fed by consuming liquids with mana. Holm mentions regularly feeding it BODILY FLUIDS.

is wearing living armor anything

White dragon vs Green dragon (round 3)

she made that dragon sooooo cunty and for what

Cockatrice vs Demon (round 3)

you should've put the slutiest picture of the demon. to remind everyone that ryoko -sensei is down BAD

no one: ryoko kui: i am going to make a lion demon that is SOOOOOOO [redacted]

everybody vote for demon! a vote for demon is a love letter to Ryoko Kui

I do find it funny we're blowing the demon whore moments on like, the cockatrice matchup

This manga is so slutty and yet so tasteful in it that you can't really call it anything but great in every aspect of its eroticism

Mermaid vs Harpy (quarter finals)

i am so mad rn. a mermaid !? more fuckable than a harpy!? for shame tumblr for shame

White dragon vs Succubus (quarter finals)

Dragon fluffye!

Chimera vs Mermaid (semi-finals)

sorry mermaid. falin fucks supremely.

sorry falin. gotta stand up for my fellow merfolk here

a vote for chimera is a vote for lesbians

Succubus vs Demon (semi-finals)

Not even the sucubbi stands up to the limitless demon sexo

if you think about it. the succubus can turn into the demon's many forms

Chimera vs Demon (finale)

fags and dykes fighting to the death over this one

Listen man. Even if I'm gay I understand why Falin is winning but- Consider that the demon knows your exact wants and desires and could satisfy your sexual needs perfectly. Also when he's buff and humanoid near the end

either of them deserve to win but demon sweep because that fucker showed up in a dream to me once

teef!!!!

VOTE FOR DYKES. VOTE FOR SLEEPY GIRLS. VOTE FOR SHARP LITTLE TEETH

Mermaid vs Succubus (battle for the bronze)

mermaids can't lose to magical mosquito people PLEASE

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #most fuckable monster in the dungeon tournament #funny comments

[nattikay]

So I saw this post while browsing toa tags the other day. While I don’t think being obsessed with the school mascot automatically makes Toby a furry (though it is funny to joke about lol) since “being a furry” actually just means “being a fan of anthropomorphic animals” and doesn’t necessarily require any form of costuming or interest in such, it did get me thinking, hmmm...if he was a furry, what would his fursona be? 🤔 And from there I started wondering what Jim’s and Claire’s would be as well because y not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

BUT WAIT, I hear you say--haven’t you already drawn the trio as werewolves and wolfwalkers etc.? Wouldn’t those be their fursonas??

Well yes....but actually no.

I guess it’s a little hard to explain, but there’s a nuance between “[person] but as an animal” and a proper “fursona”. While a fursona is an animal character used to represent its person, it doesn’t have to physically resemble them at all as you would expect [person]-but-as-[animal] to. For example, if you were to design me but as a cat, you’d probably give it light brown fur and green eyes like I have irl. But my fursona, unlike my human self, actually has blue fur and purple eyes. You can give your fursona matching physical traits to your own if you want to, and some people do, but most use only a pinch of their irl appearance, if any at all.

The choices people make when designing their fursonas vary wildly from “it looks like me irl” to “it looks like who I want to be”  to “I just really like this color scheme” to “this particular color/marking holds deep personal meaning to me” to “this particular pattern represents a particular defining moment in my life” to “idk it looks cool and i vibe with it” etc. etc. etc. Everyone has different reasons of varying depth for the decisions they make in designing their fursona.

Therefore, to design a fursona for Toby etc., it’s less a question of “what would this character look like as [insert species here]?” and more of “how would this character choose to present himself with his own [animal] character?”

And that’s a much trickier game than just transferring a character aesthetic to a new species. ^^; We have to kinda dive into the characters and makes some guesses about how they, if given infinite creative freedom to design an animal avatar with no rules or limits, would choose to present themselves.

So all that said, here’s what I came up with:

Starting with Toby because he’s the one who inspired the post. I think Toby might choose a wolfdog fursona. A lot of people who choose wolves as fursonas consider themselves to be overwhelmingly loyal to their friends, a trait that fits Toby very well. However, while Toby likes to be “cool”, I don’t think he really thinks of himself as much of an “alpha” type--he’s more of a sidekick, and he knows that, and he’s ok with that. He’s the wingman. So what better way to incorporate that than to add dog into the mix? Man’s best friend=Jim’s best friend. Sociable, humorous, and unwaveringly loyal. Wolfdog it is!

With the species decided, we can move on to the design itself.

I can’t imagine any form of Toby in anything other than warm colors. This is extra emphasized by the flamelike patterns on his legs and tail, which both speaks to his desire to be totally awesome-sauce as well as acts as an allusion to his flaming warhammer. It’s fairly common (not universal, but common) for people to give their fursonas a more “ideal” physique than the person actually has as a sort of way to live by proxy physical goals or fantasies they’ve been unable to attain irl for whatever reason. Given that we’ve seen Toby struggle with fitness from time to time, it wouldn’t shock me to see him take this route. His wolfdog self is still relatively short and stocky, but it’s all muscle, babey. 

This fursona is strong, fun, boisterous, and generally just kicks butt. Concentrated awesomesauce flows through his veins. Just don't mess with his friends, or you’ll feel the flames!

.

Moving on to Jim. Jim was the hardest to nail down, and most definitely the hardest to keep my personal biases out of oof. Which I may have failed to do anways because yes, ok, I made my favorite character a blue feline, sue me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  But hear me out first!

For Jim I ultimately settling on a cheetah/lion hybrid.

Cheetahs, in a way, are sort of the underdogs (er...cats?) of the feline world--at least, in their local ecosystems. They are built wholly for speed, not strength--and as such, just about every other large predator in their environment has them beat when it comes to raw strength. Remind you of a certain Trollhunter? plus the long lanky legs. don’t forget those lol

However, because of this disadvantage, cheetahs...usually surrender. They know it’s not worth it to defend their kill from larger, stronger opponents, so they’ll give it up and just catch something else. This aspect doesn’t quite fit our protective, selfless protagonist all too eager to risk everything to save his loved ones--so a pure cheetah may not be the right choice.

So what animal is brave and protective? That’s where the lion part comes in, of course!

Why not just make him a pure lion? Well, a little similar to making Toby a wolfdog instead of a pure wolf. A straight-up lion feels a little too “chad” for our sweet Jimbo. Too much of a jock. 

Jim has the humble underdog nature of a cheetah as well as the bravery and fierce protective drive of a lion. Cheelion? Leetah? idk, but let’s design it!

Like Toby and warm colors, I don’t think I can possibly associate Jim with any color but blue. While it’s never directly stated, given that we’ve never really seen him wear any other color (with the exception of the Eclipse armor), I think it’s pretty safe to assume that that’s his favorite. Blue sweater, blue jeans, blue shoes, even his backpack and bedsheets are blue. So naturally, his fursona would be predominantly blue as well! Plus some yellowish accents to (somewhat) match the natural colors of his chosen species(s).

I imagine he originally designed the character without horns, but then added them after becoming the Trollhunter, since it became such a major and impactful aspect of his life.

His lion’s mane also continues down his back in imitation of the “mantle” found on baby cheetahs. This youthful feature could subtly represent the fact that he’s been forced to grow up too fast and take on so much responsibility so young--so his fursona can still be young and carefree as long as he likes even while his real self struggles with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

This fursona is relaxed, calm, and confident. He’s not just cool--he’s crispy!

.

Lastly but not leastly, we have Claire. Out of the three, I think Claire was actually the easiest to choose--or at least, I had the clearest idea of what I thought she might go for.

Claire is a bit of an interesting duck, because while she’s shown to be fairly popular at school, she’s definitely far from the stereotype of The Popular Girl™. Yes she’s smart and pretty, but she’s also a little spunky or even a bit quirky--she’s a theatre kid, she’s a huge fan of hard rock band Papa Skull, and while I wouldn’t quite call her “rebellious” per se, she’s certainly willing to bend some rules if she feels the situation calls for it (not telling her parents that she was going to the concert with Steve, literally sneaking into Jim’s basement to try to find out what was up with him, etc).

That said, I think Claire might go for a hyena fursona--something a little out of the box, but not totally out of left field. (she also shows a slight Gurl Power™ streak here and there “the staff was not meant to be wielded by man--” “I am not a man!!!”) and if you know anything about hyenas...well, yeah lol)

I think Claire would lean into her punk-rock “rebellious” side with her fursona design. This character is completely free of the pressure of being the councilwoman’s daughter and having to maintain her mother’s public reputation, and thus allows Claire to express a less restrained side of herself. She has a bold semi-edgy color scheme with bright accents (and some earrings to match her person’s hair clips) while still remaining feminine and (her own brand of) fashionable. 

This fursona is spunky and sassy; she’s spicy and sweet all rolled up into one. She knows what she wants and she’s not afraid to chase it down. She lives her own life and she’s dang proud of it.

.

....sooooo yeah there’s my take on what Toby’s, Jim’s, and Claire’s fursonas could hypothetically be. And I guess since this post was inspired by a joke about Toby’s infatuation with the school mascot, here’s just some quick thoughts on how they might approach fursuiting to end us off:

Jim I don’t see as much of a suiter. He might try it once or twice if given the opportunity, but at the end of the day it’s not really his cup of tea--he’d rather act as the “handler” for his friends, if anything.

Toby and Claire, on the other hand, I could definitely see as suiters. In fact, with her interest in acting, Claire would probably particularly enjoy it--she’d be one of those suiters who really gets into character, absolutely refuses to break the magic publicly (outside of any actual medical emergency), and popular at cons because she just performs so well. 

Toby, meanwhile, would be the more chill type--uses his normal voice in-suit, isn’t really too stressed about “breaking the magic”, just kinda hanging around like he would normally except “look I’m a talking dog, cool right?”. 

also while I was typing this it occurred to be that since Eli is canonically a cosplayer then he could be a fursuiter as well; in his case i imagine he actually made his own suit it’s a protogen and it’s full of little LEDs and other electric gadgets, it’s not the prettiest thing ever as sewing is not his forte but boy did he try!! good for him. good for him

#so anyways I put way too much thought into this...enjoy I guess? #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #toby domzalski #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #furry #my art

[americasmarauders]

Delicate-- Jason Todd.

author’s note: this is definelty not my best work, but this has been sitting on my docs for a while and I can’t make it any better. Sooooo, here is a song fic with yours truly jason. 

masterlist

#

The dive bar on the east side of Gotham was his most favorite place. It was perfect. Crowded, but not too much so he could still go unnoticed by most. Cheap, but not too cheap, that way he knew the drinks were legal and not contraband. Clean, but not too clean to give off an air of pretentiousness that most bars on the central part of the city gave him.

           Jason would go there all the time. Before patrols, so he could listen to the shady crowd that attended the bar and pick up some clues on some shady activities he could destroy. Those were the days he sat on the back, and carefully observed the movements that adorned the bar on those late afternoons. Those were the days he did not drink.

           After patrols, he would sit at the bar, most of the times only without his helmet and armor. He would order scotch, neat, no ice, and would quietly drink as he observed the bartender. The bar was always mostly empty by the time he got there, so she was always tidying it up the place, cleaning cups and tables, washing the floor. She looked like she didn’t mind him being there, and Jason thought it to be the truth. She looked like she didn’t belong at a dive bar at the ends of Gotham city, at the prime of her life, cleaning messes that drunk thugs left behind. But, alas, she was, and Jason wanted to know why.

           He slammed his glass on the counter. She flinched behind him, dropping the mop she was holding. They were the only people in the bar.

          “Can I help you?” she asked politely. She had seen a lot inside her bar, and she concluded that politeness was always the best course of action. It would never make you target. She directed herself towards the other side of Jason. She grabbed the bottle of scotch he enjoyed—he had been there so many times, it was natural to pick on his habits. She poured him another glass and stared at him.

          “Why do you work here?” he mustered up the courage to say. He had been wondering about it for a while, but he never had actually said something to her, too afraid to get attached.

          “Excuse me?” she said as she put aside the bottle of scotch. His favorite bottle.

          “You look like someone who shouldn’t be working at a… place like this,” he motioned to the bar around him.

          “Are you implying that I’m weak?” she narrowed her eyes at him, looking over her shoulder.

          “No, I’m saying that you look like someone who should have gone out of Crime Alley,” he took a sip of his drink.

          She chuckled and turned to him. She picked up a rag and poured a bit of vodka on it and started to clean the counter. “This is my parents bar, I’m helping them keep the lights on,” she explained.

          He picked up his wallet and put the money on the counter. “That’s very noble of you,” Jason said. He got up and started to walk to the door, careful not to dirty up the floor she had just cleaned.

          She eyes the money. He had left considerably more than he should have. “Wait, you paid more than you should.”

          He rested his hand on the doorknob and for the first time that night, he looked into her eyes. “Keep it,” he smiled.

          She smiled back at him. “Thank you,” she said. He smiled in return and left.

 #

 #

“Don’t you think it’s weird?”

           “What?”

           “The pettiness of life,” she said, cleaning the cup Jason had just emptied. “It is so fickle, isn’t it? You try and try but, in the end, you don’t have control over it. You are forever in the hands of fate”

           Jason felt her words hit close to his heart, so much that he wondered if she could read minds. He soon discarded this idea, it was possible, but highly unlikely. “Yeah, weird,” he said awkwardly.

           His eyes wandered off to the rest of the bar as the last costumer of the day approached her to pay his due. All the booths had emptied out, as the night turned into day slowly, Jason being the last one out. His eyes landed on the old jukebox on the far corner of the bar. He had noticed it was there but never truly saw it until that moment. It shone on the dark, like a beacon asking for him to come near. He got up from his seat, walking slowly towards the juke box.

           She took notice of his actions, as she closed the door and all of its locks. She smiled; the jukebox had that effect sometimes. She rested the keys on top of the counter of the bar and walked towards the stunned Jason—even though later he would deny wholeheartedly he was not stunned, nor perplexed.

           “My Father used to play me these songs all the time when I was a little kid,” she said leaning against the jukebox. “But there was one that was my absolute favorite,” she put on a quarter and pressed a few buttons, “I used to play it on repeat. I know that if my Father hears it, he will break this jukebox just out of spite,” she chuckled. The song started to play, and she closed her eyes and started to hum.

           Jason smiled. “Would you like to dance?” he said, making her open her eyes in surprise.

           “Now?”

           “Yes, now,” he caught her hand in his and guided her to the melody of the song.

           She smiled coyly, trying to hide it. Jason felt a bubble of satisfaction and happiness burst inside of him. If only his younger self could see him now, he would have received a huge kick in the shin for being so soft and silly around a girl. To hell with his younger self, he died for a reason.

           They swayed to the harmony of the soft song. Jason couldn’t contain the dumb smile he had on his face; this woman was special, and he knew all too well. She took a deep breath and rested her head on Jason’s chest, sending flutters all over his body. “I may not know a lot about you, but I trust you Jason,” she said softly.

           “I—thank you,” he whispered.

           “And when you’re ready to tell me all about you, I’ll be here,” she completed, fluttering her eyes close.

           “It’s…delicate,” he explained himself.

           “It’s okay,” she looked up at him. She reached for his cheek and planted a sweet kiss on it. She released herself from his embrace as the song came to a close. “I need to close the bar. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said with a bright smile on her face.

#

#

He needed somewhere to crash. Somewhere close. He felt the hurt of his wounds increase, as his uniform grew wetter with his blood. His eyesight was getting blurrier, and he probably shouldn’t be driving his bike.

           Text, he should send a text to let her know. Yes, stop the bike and send the text. He looked over his shoulder, no one was actively following him. He needed to stop and send her a text. He stopped. ‘Meet me in the back’. Now, drive. Only a few more blocks.

# 

#

Her phone lighted up next to the cash register. She stopped cleaning the last of the glasses. She had just closed the bar.

           ‘Meet me in the back’, it read. Her bones chilled. Unknown number. She put her phone on her back pocket and grabbed the baseball bat she kept under the bar just in case. She quietly made her way towards the back door, while three hastily and hesitant knocks echoed through the pantry.

           Criminals wouldn’t sound hesitant while knocking the door, would they? No, they would bang the door until it fell off. But that was Gotham, she couldn’t let her guard down. She kept the bat firm in her hand while she opened the door with the other.

           Jason was struggling to keep himself straight before her, his face fighting to not cringe in pain. He looked up at her, and she immediately dropped the bat and ushered him inside, not mentioning that he was wearing a red bat symbol on his chest and that she had never seen his eyes in that shade of blue before.

           “What happened?” she asked, worried.

           “I might have been slightly stabbed,” he said, trying to mask his pain. “This might not be the first time this has happened either.”

           “Okay,” she said while frantically looking for her first aid kit. He laid on the floor, and she prayed she had scrubbed it enough to not give him an infection. “Please hang on,” she pleaded.

           “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, suppressing every ounce of him that made him want to grunt in pain.

           She had found the first aid kit. Now onto the vodka. And a needle. She kept a needle somewhere. She left the pantry and quickly came back with a bottle of pure vodka and a needle in her other hand.

           “What are you going to do with that vodka?” Jason said already knowing the answer.

           She opened the lid and poured it on the needle. She then proceeded to rip of Jason’s armor. As soon as the cut was revealed, she poured the drink onto it. Jason Screamed in pain. “YOU COULD HAVE WARNED” he said in pain.

           She took a swig at the bottle, drinking a considerable part of the drink. “If I did you would have tensed and prevented me from doing.”

          She closed the bottle and opened the first aid kit. Was there a thread in there she could use to close his wound? She should have put it there. She took out bags of gauze and cotton to find the closed package of surgical thread she had once bought in case she hurt herself. Hospitals were a luxury to her, and she couldn’t afford that. Thank God she never needed it. Now, she was sewing closed her… It was too delicate to say what Jason was to her. But he couldn’t get out of her head. In her dreams, when she closed her eyes, he was everywhere.

          She looped the thread into the needle and started to sew. “I’m sorry you’re in pain, but I promise to make it quick. I took a course once of first aid and I was the best student in it.”

          “Are you serious?”

           “About the course? Yes,” she deliberately chose not to say that she almost dropped out of the course because she was constantly fainting. He wouldn’t trust her to do this, and she was well into the sewing and she hadn’t felt lightheaded once. It must have been the adrenaline. Or the large amount of vodka she had just ingested.

           “I’m sorry about this,” Jason said. “I couldn’t go anywhere else,” he hid the fact that he could go to somewhere else, only he didn’t want to hear an earful of Bruce Wayne’s trademarked bullshit, so he chose to go to her bar.

           “It’s okay, Jason, really. But you do have some explaining to do, I’m afraid.”

           He looked at his injury and saw that she was almost finished closing it shut. “I know,” he whispered.

           “Because, I—” she took a deep breath. “I can’t get you out of my head, Jason. You are everywhere, and I can’t help but wonder if you…” she gulped before continuing, “if you ever dream of me the way I dream of you.”

           He looked stunned at her. “There. Finished,” she covered the injury with some gauze and medical tape and closed her first aid kit. She quickly glanced over Jason, “I know that it’s delicate, but I hope that it’s cool that I said all of that,” with that she left the small pantry.

           He had to pull himself together. This was it, wasn’t it? He had done it. HE had gotten attached. And maybe it didn’t feel so bad after all. Jason had this imagery in his head that the moment he had created a bond with her, the world would end in flames and crowbars all over again. It definitely didn’t end in flames or crowbars, but maybe it did end in stab wounds and intense pain caused by vodka in his open flesh.

           He sat up straight. Breathe in. Out now. He owed her more than half-assed ‘I know’s and the possibility of a heart attack in the middle of the night because of enigmatic texts.

#

#

“Before you say anything back,” Jason leaned at the frame of the open pantry door, his right hand over the recently shut wound. “you need to know that maybe this ain’t for the best.”

           She breathed, almost in mockery. “What?”

           “My reputation’s never been worse, so you can’t like me for any fantasy you have created in your head,” he said. Jason walked to her, and grabbed her hands, his still a bit tainted in red. His hands were calloused, but it was perfect. “You must like me for me.”

           Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t utter a word, so she just nodded.

           “We can’t make any promises, baby,” his hands found her cheek and she had never felt a softer touch, “but you can make me a drink. And I’ll tell you everything.”

#

#

#

#

final note: here is a link to my jason playlist. enjoy.

#jason todd fanfiction #Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason tood headcanon #jason todd x y/n #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x oc #red hood x y/n #song fic #to support my headcanon that jay is a taytay fan #i'm linking my playlist so you can listen in its entire grandure #my masterlist

[magioftheseas]

The Farce of Hope

Written for @komahinaisle

Day 5: Fantasy AU, Healing, Hope

Summary: A certain hero of hope has been causing problems for those who reap despair. Hinata is assigned with breaking that hero's will through the targeting of the insipid, vapidly cheerful healer that is always by his side.

Rating: T

Warnings: Attempted murder and later kidnapping.

Notes: This is not a day late. I just can’t read. Anyway I’ve been wanting to write this idea for a long time...however I wanted to write it much spicier. I’m pretty sad that I didn’t. But hopefully it’s still serviceable if nothing else. Also demon!Hinata is v good. V, v, v good.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

Lately, that hero had been causing more and more problems. Junko was getting increasingly annoying about it, which wasn’t helping.

“You gotta dooooo something, Hajime!!” she whined, clinging to him with big, watery eyes. “They’re ruining all my plans! All my despair! It’s sooooo frustrating! Not despairing, but frustrating! At this rate, the disgusting populace won’t fear me as much as they used to! And what will I do, then?!”

He grumbled. He griped. And she shoved him out the door.

“If you fail me, I’ll feel such despair that I won’t be able to resist killing you on the spot!” she chirped, cheerful now. “So! Take care of that wretched, stupid hero of hope, Hajime! In fact! I’ll make it easy for you! Target that dumbass healer always tagging along and fawning over them!” With a grin, she waved him off. “He looks like easy prey but is pretty annoyingly immune to my charm! You’re definitely more up his alley! Don’t let me down! Or else!”

And that was that.

“Urgh.”

Chief demon-in-command, Hinata Hajime, was given simultaneously a most important mission—and a most irritating chore.

--

It’s not all that important to mention, but Hinata Hajime hadn’t always been a demon. He was one of many former humans swayed to the side of despair due to discontentment with the current state of affairs and Junko’s promises of glory. She had presented them a paradise of free will and euphoria, and he had been desperate enough to hang on every word.

As time wore on, it was obvious she didn’t care about them at all. But, it wasn’t like Hinata Hajime cared for the other world, either. Hope, happiness, righteousness were all nothing more than farces. This hero, too, with their wide-eyed innocence and determination, was just another joke.

But the one Hinata undoubtedly detested the most was the healer. The healer who worshipped every step of the hero, and sang praise upon praise of their spread of hope, their sweeping influence as a symbol of hope. As if such a thing hadn’t already proven to be a broken promise. He was either willfully dense or just that stupid.

And yet, the hero kept him around. Likely for those asinine assurances.

Foolishness all around. But, if there was an ideal target, it was the healer.

“What sort of materials do we need for this next mission, Naegi-kun?!”

“You don’t need to worry about it so soon, Komaeda-san...”

“But! I! Insist!” With his overwhelming enthusiasm and fiery intensity, the healer having his way was inevitable, even when placed against a so-called hero. Even the most innocuous of observers could tell, and as someone spying on them, Hinata already found himself bored as the healer huffed. “A hero of hope can never be too prepared!”

As predicted, the hero sighs.

“Alright, alright. But, we’re going to relax here for a while, okay? I’m still pretty exhausted, and I’m sure you are, too.”

“If this feeble body of mine is destined to crumble, it’s no concern as long as it can still bear the weight of supporting you, Naegi-kun!”

Unsurprisingly, the hero’s face pinches up. He shook his head quickly.

“Please. Take care of yourself.”

“Oh.” The healer blinks back. “Did I upset you, Naegi-kun?”

“I’m not upset.” The hero shook his head again. “I just worry.”

“You don’t need to worry,” was insisted.

“But I do anyway. Komaeda-kun—we are running low on herbs for potions. Um. Maybe I could use a new cloak? What do you think?” A pitiful smile was given as the healer lit up, eyes bright. “I trust you on this more than anything.”

“We definitely do need more herbs,” he rattled off. “And we need to buy polish for the armor and yes, a new cloak. Preferably one resistant to poisons! We’re coming up on quite a dangerous area! So antidotes are also a must! Don’t worry, Naegi-kun! I’ll grab everything we need and then some!”

“Alright, Komaeda-kun. Thank you.”

It was painfully simple, Hinata Hajime thought as the healer went on his way. He wove through the crowd, following that bouncing healer, who was so easy to spot with his white hair and light robes. A blight, one with an infuriatingly cheerful hum as he walked.

It would have been painfully easy to burn that annoying little light into a crisp.

Just kill him—that’s all Junko asked for. She didn’t even care about extracting any level of satisfaction. I could just twist a knife into his gut and leave.

The healer tripped, and enough people parted so that he fell to the ground. The hero was too far away to witness this. Hinata Hajime drew near.

“Ahaha,” the healer murmured, pushing himself up shakily, still smiling. “How clumsy of me.”

“Do you need help?” Hinata asked, feigning concern as he played with the small dagger hidden in his cloak. He offers his hand. “Here. Let me.”

“Oh!” The healer perked up, eyes wide before he once again beams. He reaches for Hinata’s hand just as Hinata’s grip closes around the handle of his dagger. “Thank you so—”

“Out of the way! I’ve lost control!”

High-pitched whinnying. The crowd was screaming and scattering to make way for the horse charging through. Hinata was forced to yank the healer close if he wanted to avoid them both getting trampled on the spot. The healer’s mouth opens to let out a sharp yelp, which is then muffled by Hinata’s cloak. The horse races by. Its distraught owner chases after it.

The healer is still pressed close, and Hinata could feel his heart hammering. Rather belatedly, he realizes that the healer is gripping his other hand. The one that still holds the knife.

Hinata says nothing, but the healer lets out a shaky exhale.

“Oh.” He lets go of Hinata’s other hand, pulling back almost sheepishly. “That was rather exhilarating, wasn’t it?” He laughs, and his face is flushed. “I would’ve died if not for you! What truly good luck!”

Good luck?

At Hinata’s quizzical stare, the healer just gave his usual insipid smile.

“Thank you for saving me. Um.” He digs through his pouch and pulling out several gold coins. “How much—do you want?”

Does he think I’m just a thief?

“I’m sorry,” the healer went on. “I’m afraid I don’t have much gold to spare. But, I can compensate you in other ways, if you like. Is there anything you need?”

No one is paying them any mind. The menial bustling has returned now that the apparent danger is gone. It would not be that hard to finish the job anyway, the distraction be damned. The healer is smiling up at him so pitifully, and Hinata Hajime wonders if he’s still afraid.

“I don’t mind,” the healer said. “Really. Even if you were trying to hurt me, you ultimately helped me. So, you must not be that bad of a person.”

I could have let the horse trample him.

Hinata wanted to curse his impulses. No wonder this fool was trying to pay him.

“I don’t want any payment,” he snapped. “It was instinct. Your hand was already in mine. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Are you sure?” There’s finally a frown on that face. “I really, really don’t mind.”

How infuriating!

“At least let me buy you a meal,” the other insisted, to Hinata’s disdain. “Instinct or not, you saved me. Please, let me show proper gratitude! I... I’m Komaeda Nagito, by the way. I’m quite the worthless healer, but I’m not completely hopeless, haha.”

What you are is hapless.

Hinata bit his tongue, but he didn’t really have an excuse to flee. Even if he wanted to disengage as quickly as he could.

“Hinata... Hajime. Nice to meet you.” His name wasn’t given very often. The sound and shape of it were as bland and banal on his tongue as ever. “If you really want to—I guess I can’t stop you.”

“Hinata-kun!” Komaeda grins with the radiance that he preferred to see crushed. “It’s nice to meet you! I hear the food at the inn is delicious, so let’s go there!”

Hinata can only nod, fingers twitching as he does. “Let’s.”

--

“Order whatever you want, Hinata-kun! I don’t mind paying for it!”

“What was that about not having much gold to spare?”

“I get a discount, ehe.” Komaeda’s grin grows, looking unbearably smug. “It’s because of Naegi-kun. Surely you’ve heard of him. He’s an incredible hero of hope, you see.”

“I’ve heard,” Hinata said, if only because he didn’t want to hear more about it. “How fortunate for you to associate with someone like that.”

“Mmhm.” Komaeda nods along dreamily, eyes half-lidded. After a while, he blinked a few times and his head tilted. “You knew about him but you still wanted to...?”

He’s sharper than he looks.

“It’s because you don’t look strong yourself.” That was true, at least. Everything about Komaeda Nagito, the healer, screamed fragile. And healers weren’t known for being all that durable in the first place. It’s astounding to think that Naegi Makoto could manage with a healer this especially frail in appearance, but either Komaeda Nagito was more than he seemed—or he was quite lucky.

I’m leaning towards luck.

Komaeda laughing more or else emboldened the thought.

“You’re right! You’re absolutely right! I’m definitely a weak link! If Naegi-kun hadn’t known me for so long, he would have rightfully discarded me long ago.” Brushing away stray tears, Komaeda added. “Naegi-kun’s such a kind person. I’ve known that from the start, even before I was aware of his potential. I do want to support him with all that I have.”

“Would you even give your life for him?” Hinata asked.

Komaeda didn’t even hesitate.

“Yes! Of course!”

He’s even stupider than I thought. Does he even know that his death will be a cause of despair? Stupid. So stupid.

It was infuriating. Beyond infuriating. Even if he does kill Komaeda Nagito, the healer will part with sweet words of encouragement and a smile. He’s sure of it.

He’s just like how I was back then.

--

“Are you not going to order anything?”

“Mm... Toast, maybe?”

“That’s not a meal.”

“Ahaha! I don’t need to eat that badly!”

So stupid.

But, he holds his tongue. He orders a modest meal, all things considered. Junko spoils them quite a bit with high-class meals when she doesn’t randomly decide to poison them. To eat something normal without that concern would be a nice change of pace. He’s not much for a lavish lifestyle anyway, it turns out.

The food was fine. The service was fine. The innkeeper was polite, well-practiced. This kind of mundane scenario had become a rarity ever since he joined Junko. There are times where he wondered if he had understood what, exactly, he sacrificed back then. But, it didn’t matter.

None of it really mattered.

“If you insist on staring so intently,” he found himself snapping at the other. “Then perhaps order an actual meal for yourself?”

“O-Oh!” Komaeda hurriedly waved his hands. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Hinata-kun! I was just...” Wetting his lips, he seems contemplative. “You’re so methodical with how you eat. It’s rather fascinating to watch. Especially when you’re a lowly thief.”

He doesn’t even lower his voice on the off-chance that he’s overheard. Hinata wouldn’t be surprised if it had been intentional. Even with the show of charity, there was a suspicious glimmer in Komaeda Nagito’s eye. As if he wasn’t sure if what he was appraising was dirt or gold.

Hinata merely snorted, unwilling to humor him. Komaeda’s smile quirked, but he didn’t add anything else.

“What were you before you joined Naegi Makoto?” Hinata asked next, head tilting with the inquiry. “Did you have any path laid out before you prior to clinging to the hero’s coattails?”

“Not really,” Komaeda said easily. “I was always clumsy, so I never had any promise. It would have been impertinent to have ambitions. But supporting Naegi-kun is everything I ever could have wanted.”

“I see.” Hinata nodded. “How fortunate for you to find happiness in someone else’s shadow.”

“It’s more than I deserve,” Komaeda speaks brightly. Easily. “So yes, I’m very happy.”

Happy—huh?

“Is that so? You’ve no resentment at all? No regrets? You really only appreciate what you have?” Hinata stood, leaving the meal only partially finished. “How noble of you. You’re just the perfect martyr, aren’t you?”

Someone like this isn’t even worth a glance. It’s just because he’s close to Naegi Makoto that Junko wants him dealt with. He’s fortunate and unfortunate in that sense.

“It may be hard to understand, but it’s how I feel,” Komaeda said, fearless even as Hinata approaches him. He doesn’t even tense as Hinata looms over him. “Are you angry, Hinata-kun? That’s quite a scary face. I guess you must be quite unsatisfied with your current lot in life.”

“I am, but I don’t envy you.” Hinata stares, gaze sharp. “I’m not sure if I hate you or if I feel sorry for you. She certainly wouldn’t care either way as long as you’re taken care of.”

Komaeda’s expression changed immediately, smile dropping.

“She?”

“She,” Hinata confirmed, reaching into his cloak for his dagger. Komaeda blinks, but Hinata merely carves words into the table. “This is for your hero. I assume he’ll understand what comes next.”

Komaeda looks over the message, and his eyes go wide when he realizes.

“You—”

Hinata covers his mouth. He takes Komaeda’s outburst of magic without blinking, and then he yanks the squirming, struggling healer close.

“I’m doing you a favor,” Hinata hissed, and he brought his hand down swiftly.

Someone screamed, but the two of them are gone before long.

--

In the end, he decided against killing Komaeda Nagito. Why? Sentimentality, perhaps?

I don’t know. I just got so angry and now here we are.

Hinata sighed, resting against the wall. They’re in a hideout, now. A location that he detailed on the table and Komaeda is secured, still unconscious and curled up on a pile of leaves. His wrists are bound, his magic restricted. Like this, he truly does look utterly helpless.

Hinata almost feels bad but stomps down the rising bile and guilt.

It’s because he’s a liar. Saying he’s happy with his lot in life—what a joke. I’ll prove him wrong.

“You’re not any better than me,” he murmurs, fierce as he approaches, scowling down at Komaeda’s innocent face. “You’re just as wretched, just as wanting, just as corrupt. You’re just in denial that hope is a farce, and once you realize, that Naegi Makoto will see it, too.”

He reaches out, and as Komaeda murmurs, Hinata finds himself softening and brushing the other’s hair back.

“Mm... Where...? Hinata-kun...?”

“Komaeda Nagito,” Hinata says, suddenly tired but resolute. “It’s time for me to teach you about the Ultimate Despair.”

#KomaHinaWeek2020 #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #KomaHina #HinaKoma #makoto naegi #junko enoshima #Magi fics #I don't even know who I am anymorre #show up in the tags challenge

[asoulofatlantis]

I just had two battles with them (the one from the “future” aside) and already reached their first support-Rank XD And that is why, Ladys and Gentleman people constantly end up marrying Chrom without wanting too ^^’

Chrom is rather... uh... clumsy in those events tho XD

Sumia is Chroms default wife - if you don’t end up “accidentally” marrying him that is (which is very likely to happen btw... ^^’), they even have a few scenes together, like canon ones, but they have no chemistry whatsoever... I married them off to each other the very first time I played this game because the game seemed like it wanted me too and I managed to avoid Chrom because I have been warned and was after someone else for Robin... Just so you know I never finished this game because I started it all over again just so I can marry Robin to Chrom instead because that just seemed the right thing to do. Like it felt right. Really right. The chemistry between Robin and Chrom is simply amazing and NOTHING beats their little family. Sumia is a characterless character.... because with her (other then with Alisa, even tho she gets accused of this a lot too...) she is obviously really just made to be Chroms wife. She doesn’t have any other interesting character traits and the only thing she does with Chrom is the forced shippy stuff. Like saving him once and slapping him at some point. You know... the usual stuff XD However... she is so hard to marry off, because as her character is canonly deeply in love with Chrom, she is actually not easily convinced to marry someone else. I think there are less then 5 men (Chrom aside) that she can get married too and as a fighter she isn’t very strong and thus her whole character just simply sucks ^^’

BTW... her running-gag is that she falls every time she sees Chrom. Which makes her look even more ridiculous. Tho she is at least pretty.

They intentionally made the scene in a way that not even the player noticed that poor guy. He is strong but sooooo damn slow, because of that damn heavy armor. Shipping him off isn’t so easy either... his character is also very complicated.

This is the guy Robin married the first time I played. He is nice but... he can not beat Robins chemistry with Chrom.

He is one of the characters you just can not take serious... ^^’ But he is strong IF he has his axe that is XD

Okay... its time to stop playing to check for the best ships this time.

Chrobin is of course basically canon... so no question here.

I don’t like the suggestion for “Strong Children” so I guess that won’t do it ^^’

Its funny that most people ship Chrom with Sumia simply because she is canon, even tho the ship isn’t very good if you consider how lame Sumia as a character is. While in Cold Steel people refuse the canon-choice simply because it is the canon-choice. We gamers are weird XD

Everyone else pairs Sumia mostly of to Henry... not so sure about that tho.

Lissa x Lon'qu are apparently a pretty obvious choice (not for me so far, but I’ve heard its been good, so lets give it a try.)

Maribelle x Virion kind of sounds amusing... so why not? ^^’

I decide on the Rest later I guess. A lot of the suggested pairs are ones that I already tried or not like. So I better figure the rest out myself.

#FEAwakening Mona Version

[shadcatmastered]

I know I already asked for some prompt but... Can you do one where Law is supposed to be a strict (but right) King and he is secretly in love with Kid who is a knight who respect him a lot (and a bit afraid of him). And Law act like a little girl in love when he think/saw Kid and nobody is looking. Please ! Love ya like always !

My dear, you can ask as many proposals as you like :D Love ya too

Kid x Law - FF - King And Knight

The black-hairedman sighed.It had been a stupid idea. He should not have got Kid into the direct Kingsguard. For a knight, it was a great honor to serve the king directly and toprotect his life directly… but Law could not concentrate anymore.He chuckled as he watched the redhead give instructions to the other knights.Yes, Law had given him authority. That only seemed right to him. Kid could notgo wrong. That was not possible.Law blushed a bit as he sat on the throne watching Kid. It was forbidden. Whathe did here was forbidden. The whole people were already talking about whytheir king had no queen and fathered some male heirs. But Law was notinterested. Neither to a wife nor to children. He was much more interested inKid…How would it be if Kid kissed him…? Oh, men must have had some sort of sex,even if they could not father children. He would like to find out…“Your Majesty, are you ready?”Kids voice sounded and Law saved himself from daydreaming.The redhead’s gaze was iron and ready for anything. As if he was ready to givehis life for Law every second.…hah, so male.The black-haired man sat upright again and took the crown, which lay on a redcushion beside his throne. He pulled it on the black hair and took a deepbreath. The blush wiped from his cheeks and Law’s facial expressions becameserious and stern. As it always was… if he did not think about Kid.“Yes, you can let them in.”With that the knights opened the big gates of the throne room and the firstones came in. First, the fine landlords and estate ladies and at the very end,if there was still time left, the poor peasant folk.Once a week, the doors of the throne room were opened for four to five hours.The people of the kingdom could come, express their thanks, their requests ortheir cares.Law had already changed a lot in this tradition. Whenhis father had reigned as king, the throne room was opened only for an hour amonth and that only for the people of rule. Law’sadvisors had strongly discouraged him from receiving farmers. Theywould be the most ungrateful, would drag disease and sheer complaint into thecastle. ButLaw had not listened to his advisers.Andto his great surprise, the common people were the ones who brought the most importantconcerns. Theycould tell him better than his advisers, whether the harvest was bad, thehunger was too great, or the diseases could no longer be kept in the fence.Luckily,the plague was not yet a major issue in their ranks, but if the plague alsomoved to their country, Law would have to close its doors forever. He knew that. After all, he hadreally begotten no heirs. Ifhe died, the kingdom would fall to his uncle in the north. And his unclewas a domineering, dark man. Lawdid not want to do that to his people under any circumstances.Especiallybecause Law for his fairness was really popular among the people. The simple, as well as thelandowners.The hours passed and the worries got bigger. It was the agonizinghunger, as so often. Unfortunately, the land of the kingdom was surrounded bymany marshes and bogs. Although perfect against enemies, this landscape wasunbearable for the people. As soon as it rained for just a few days, the swampswould poison the surrounding soil and kill the crop.Law wanted to sigh and bury his face in his hands, but that would not be worthyof a king. He sat upright, listening to the suffering of a plaintive peasantwoman and promising to take care of the problem.Then she left the throne room, thankful, crying.Law could feel exactly how the eyes of his treasurer pierced his side. Yes,they knew that Law intended to buy food from the kingdom’s money instead ofincreasing the weapons arena. But that was the only right decision.A king without a people would not be a king.The hours passed and people came and went before Law announced after five hoursthat it was enough. Withinminutes, his knights had closed the gates again and Kid stood by his side.Hisface was worried when he looked at Law and the black-haired man smiled briefly.If only the world wasthat easy. Itwould only be okay if you have a husband as a spouse. Then Law would be happy.Butthat was not the moment to think about it. Theblack-haired man shook his head, got up from his throne and walked over to hisadvisors. Theysat at a round table and then they discussed what was being heard.Cumbersome. It was just tedious.Lawhad already exchanged many members of his round table since he had taken overthe crown, but many were still friends of his father.Old,stubborn men you could not convince of modern decisions. Law had to order everything.Kid stood behind him again and watched. Along with another knight, Lawhad to admit that he did not even know his name. He only thought about Kid. Heleft it entirely in the hands of the redhead to administer the knights. Even ifhis advisors advised him against it.The hours passed and it was already very late when the session ended.Law, as always, had much opposition to his decisions. But that’s not why hewould not be deterred! He would take care of his people and do some thingsbetter than his father. That was for sure.Only when Law got up did the other members of his council rise. Law went to hischambers without any ado. His head hurt. He had had enough of this long, heavyday.Law heard Kid instruct the other knight to take care of the others as Kid Lawfollowed up the stairs.…he was alone with Kid.The black-haired man could not stop himself from blushing and butterfliesfluttering in his stomach. He heard exactly how the heavy iron boots Lawfollowed up the stairs.‘Alone’ was almost impossible in such a big castle. They kept coming pastknights keeping watch. But Law was the same. For him, it felt like being alone.Appropriate to his rank, Kid was silent. They got into the corridor where Law’schambers lay and the black-haired one asked:“Do you have a wife and children, Sir Eustass?”Actually it was not possible. Law would have known. Where Kid also had somehours of free time. Nights when he was alone. Maybe he had…?The redhead seemed quite surprised at his question, or even more surprised thatthe king simply addressed him. But then he smiled. The redhead showed so brightwhite teeth that this could only be witchcraft. Law sighed softly. What aperfect man.“No. My life is only yours, my Majesty. ”The black-haired man had to look forward and bite his lip so he would not laughwith happiness.How nice Kid had said that. Only him…Law said nothing, but Kid saw his satisfaction and smiled. He probably wouldnever guess why Law was just as satisfied.They came to his chambers.In front of it stood two knights, who reported immediately that nothingextraordinary had happened. This was actually the moment when Kid would saygoodbye and leave.But Law turned around. His heart beat like crazy, but he could not help themadness that had devoured his mind.“Would you still briefly look into my chambers, if everything is alrightthere, Sir Eustass? I have such a bad feeling today. Not that anyone poisonedmy wine.”Laws voice was serious and clear, whereupon all the knights looked at himhorrified. That their king was so worried was new and the knights put a lot ofweight on it.One of the guards opened his mouth and said:“Your Majesty, we really have …”But before he got ahead, Kid raised his hand and silenced him.“Your Majesty, of course, as you wish.”With that, the redhead entered his chambers and instructed the other knightsnot to let anyone in.Law followed him lightly. He felt like floating above the ground.Kid was in his chambers …here …with him.The black-haired man grinned to ear to ear while Kid searched his chambers witha serious, worried expression. Tried the wine and checked every place for traps.Law was not worried. No, he much preferred to consider the strong knight. Helooked at his big physique and the nice butt. Law giggled softly. How would Kidlook without his armor…? In civil…? He could hardly imagine it. Kid had tolook sooooo handsome.The black-haired man had the feeling that little hearts were flying around hishead. He felt so good in Kids proximity. So free, so happy.The knight, on the other hand, was done with his control. He stood right in front of Law and said with aserious expression:“I searched everything, Your Majesty. There are no traps or dangers in yourchambers. You can rest safely tonight.”Law wondered if Kid was afraid of him. In the golden eyes was the same shimmeras in all others. Fear of the mighty king who could prescribe his death withouthaving to explain it to anyone.“Are you afraid of me, Sir Eustass?”The question of the black-haired man was quiet and sharp. Kids eyes widened andhe took a breath. The reaction alone told Law more than a thousand words could.“Your Majesty, I respect you. I care only about you and your safety. Youhave the highest priority for me.”What a clever answer. Law grinned briefly and Kid seemed relieved.With such deft, evasive words Kid could have fit into the policy of the castle.He had answered his question neither yes nor with no, and yet gave him a clearanswer.So it happened that they looked each other in the eye. Both with a smile andLaw felt the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.And then the king did something that was completely insane. He wrapped his armsaround Kids neck and before the redhead could do anything, Law leaned forwardand kissed him.It felt like Law was going to faint with happiness. His lips laid on Kids andit felt so nice. Like a dream. To feel the strange warmth, the good taste ofKid…Law’s cheeks blushed and he pressed his body against Kids. Felt the cold metal…and then realized what he was doing.As if someone had given him a slap in the face, Law shrugged back. He releasedhis lips from Kids and took his arms off Kids neck.The redhead’s eyes were wide open, staring up at him with his mouth open. …whichwas so cute that Law could only smile. Now he would come to purgatory. He hadkissed a man. And it had felt even better than he had thought…Law blushed again.“Excuse me, Sir Eustass. You can go home now.”Kid nodded mutely and then turned, and Law buried his face in his hands. Whathad he been thinking? God, what had he thought?!But to his great surprise, Kid once more turned his head toward him, even as healready had the door handle in his hand.“Your Majesty …I just wanted to say …that I thought that was verynice.”…was Kid red on the cheeks?Now Laws mouth opened and without another word Kid disappeared through the doorfrom the room.When the door closed behind the redhead, Law squealed and luckily threw himselfon his bed. There he rolled and giggled.Sky! He had kissed Kid! He had really done it…! And Kid had found it nice…!How beautiful the world was…!

written by Shadcatmastered

#King and Knight #You ask I write #Kid x Law #Kid x Law FF #Kid x Law Fanfiction #Kingdom #King #Knight #medival ages #KidLaw #KidLaw FF #KidLaw Fanfiction #KidxLaw #KidxLaw FF #KidxLaw Fanfiction #FF #Fanfiction #One Piece #Kid Eustass x Law trafalgar #One Piece FF #One Piece Fanfiction #Yaoi

[foleypdx]

Human Shield - A SuperCorp fic

I don’t always have time to make complete comics. I work. A LOT. But this was a really interesting idea I wanted to explore. And @luthoring​ encouraged me, sooooo... here you go.

Beyond the cut is the result, expanding on this comic. Written entirely from Lena’s perspective.

Fair warning: there is violence, injury, and angst. 

The ringing in her ears is nauseating. Painful. Sounds are dampened, quieted, blown out and unintelligible. She tries to move and heat floods her limbs. The pain shifts from her head to her left arm. No. Her entire left side.

What the hell happened?

She remembers her mother. CADMUS. That strange alien tech.

The explosion.

Kara.

Lena’s disorientation evaporates, replaced by intense purpose. Kara - where’s Kara?  Her bare feet slip on rubble. Aching hands claw for purchase, finding only broken pebbles of tempered glass and crumbled concrete. She scans the wreckage that used to be her loft, hoping for a glimpse of blue and red, a strong figure backlit by smoldering fire, but her eyes can barely see through thick smoke and dust floating in acrid air. She’s on her knees, fighting to stand.

“Kar-a.” The name barely makes its way out of her throat. She tries again only to shout all together too loud, “KARA!”

Coughing takes over. The outburst is violent and earnest, racking her bruised body, throat burning, head pounding.

And then there is laughter. Dark. Bitter. Familiar.

For the briefest instant, Lena is child and Lillian Luthor is chastising her for some perceived indiscretion, disapproval and cruelty masquerading as maternal care. Fear and shame wash over her. As quickly as the feelings come, they're gone, replaced by seething rage at the sight of her adopted mother.

Lillian smirks drawing her skin taut across sharp bones. The lines around her eyes deepen, shadows growing darker. “You’re on the wrong side of this, Lena. But that shouldn’t be news to you. You’re often wrong. In so many ways.”

That is the motivation needed to find her feet. Lena rises. Her body protests. Throbbing. Shaking. She balls her fists. “What have you done?”

“What you proved you weren't strong enough to do,” Lillian snarls through tightly gritted teeth.

Panic rises, turning her stomach. Sickness swells in her gut, but she hold it back, instead allowing the acid to burn its way back down her raw throat.

Never one to ignore a show of weakness, her mother grins. “Feeling sick, my dear?”

Lena turns, slipping, scrambling, desperately searching. Her things are either on fire or simple obliterated. Fragments of furniture are strewn about the loft. It barely ever felt like a home, and now it looks like a war zone. Through the haze she makes out a swath of crimson in the far corner of the room. A cape covering a limp form, collapsed in rubble.

“No,” the word scratches its way from between her lips. “Kara.”

Lillian begins to laugh again, but the sound is muffled by the blood pounding in Lena’s ears. Her chest tightens. She reaches Kara and stumbles, gracelessly kneeling by her side. Grabs her shoulder, gently rolling her over. Her face is pale, red veins fan out under her skin, emanating from swollen eyes. There are a few places where debris has ripped through her suit, the blue fabric is soaking through with blood.

She’s bleeding.

Supergirl is bleeding.

Lena cups a shaking hand to Kara’s face while her other rests on the Zor-El seal. She can barely feel it, but there is a ragged rise and fall to Kara’s chest. She’s breathing. Lena murmurs softly, “Please. Please be okay…”

There’s a click. A snap. Metal slipping and locking into place. She knows the sound well. When she turns around, her mother is leveling a handgun in her direction. “Move, Lena. Or I swear to God I’ll…”

Anger burns bright. She keeps her body positioned directly in the line of fire, staring down Lillian. Every fiber is ready to act. Ready for what will inevitable come. “Do it, Mother. Shoot. Because there is no way in hell I’m letting you hurt her.”

“Where did I go so wrong with you?” Lillian causally takes a step closer. Her camel colored overcoat sways with the movement. “These creatures aren’t better than us, Lena. They aren’t special. They aren’t gods. And they certainly don’t belong here. That… that thing is an aberration. Lex tried to warn you. I tried to warn you. But you wouldn’t listen. No. You were too caught up in… Whatever this thing you have with her is. It's disgusting. You and your..  proclivities.”

The last word is spat more than said. Lillian’s finger begins to compress around the trigger. “In the end, you picked that filth over your family. Ungrateful little b-”

She knows what’s coming. Lena's spent years at the firing range perfecting her ability to defend herself. The order of events is so deeply ingrained, a muscle memory. Aim, breathe, fire - but it’s very different when you’re not the epicenter of that concussion.

The shockwave hits Lena, hard, followed by pain. But not in the place she expected. No. The shot is off its mark. Her left arm had been aching before, and now it’s screaming. She clutches the wound, but stands firm. Protecting Kara is not optional. It is her purpose in this moment.

Hot blood is soaking through her blouse, filling her palm, running down her wrist. An unnerving stillness blankets the chaos, and somehow a completely unarmed Lena Luthor is the last woman standing.

It takes her a few seconds to recognize that the her mother’s expensive coat is splattered in blood.

Lillian falls to her knees. Her gun clatters to the ground. She coughs. Sputters. Red flecks dappling  her pale chin.

The door bursts open and the sounds of heavy boots and jostling military gear fill the air. Black clad soldiers swarm the room. There is shouting. They sweep the wreckage, confirming the kill before paying any mind to Lena and the fallen hero at her feet. When the commandos finally turn their attention to her, she is back on her knees, Kara scooped up in her shaking arms. Tears are streaming hot down her cheeks.

A hand gently grips her shoulder. “Miss Luthor. It’s okay. It’s over.”

She can’t stop crying. Can’t stop holding the limp body of the woman she loves. How did this happen? Lillian was in prison. She saw to that. She called the police. She turned her in. Kara loved her. Trusted her. They were happy. She was happy. How?

“Lena!”

A firm voice reaches her. Alex Danvers has two strong hands clasped around Lena’s bruised shoulders.

“We have to move her. There’s not much time.”

Lena is sitting in the DEO infirmary. Apparently, she broke two ribs, fractured four bones in her left hand, and suffered a series of other bruises and lacerations as a result of the explosion along with being shot in the arm. She is bandaged up. Her arm is in a sling. They dug out the bullet and stitched her up.

She feels stupid and useless.

And on top of it all she's utterly terrified.

They took Kara away from her. They were transported in different vehicles. Once they reached this facility, Supergirl was moved quickly through the halls on a stretcher. Lena had been blocked and eventually forcibly ushered into a sterile room where her wounds were assessed and attended to. No one will tell her if Kara’s okay. If they were able to stabilize her. If the alien device Lillian detonated has done some sort of irreparable damage to National City’s bravest hero. In fact, no one has spoken to her since the doctor finished patching her up an hour ago.

The armed guard outside the infirmary is a clear indicator of a lack of trust.

Lena doesn't dare move.

So she waits.

When patience fails, stubbornness will have to do.

She ran through what she could remember from the evening. Kara arriving at her loft, gently touching down on the balcony and navigating her home like she belonged there. Like she'd always been meant to exist in the same space as Lena. She recalled thinking how the super suit was going to take some getting used to. Maybe it was the cape? Or maybe it was that dating mild mannered reporter Kara Danvers was one thing, but being with Supergirl… Well, it was an entirely different ballgame.

It made her swell with pride.

Pride that someone like Kara could love someone like her. Lena tried to do good. Tried to get out from under the Luthor name, but Kara Danvers - no, Kara Zor-El, was good. She was kindness personified.

She had come out of the kitchen beaming about how lucky she was when Kara stepped in close and wrapped strong arms around Lena’s waist. She had kissed the Kryptonian. Softly at first, and then firmer and more deeply, until every frustration from her day was forgotten and all that was in her head were thoughts of soft lips and strong hands and the pleasant way her evening was shaping up.

Lillian’s unwelcome intrusion spoiled that moment.

Lena shifts on the table. She cringes as the movement strains muscles connected to things that are damaged and/or sutured. Flesh pinches against synthetic thread. She lets out a sharp hiss.

“She's asking for you.”

Lena’s focus snaps to the doorway. Alex is there. Still incredibly intimidating, still very much armed, but markedly less body armor than the last time Lena saw her.

It takes a second for her to register what the agent has said. When she does, Lena's eyes start to well up. “Kara?”

Alex nods stiffly.

She slips off the table, her legs are weak and unsteady. She tries not to let it show, but her fragile voice is the thing that betrays her. “Can I… can I please see her?”

Kara’s sister takes a deep breath. Her gaze is cold, unwavering, and almost painful to Lena. She's used to this kind of scrutiny from her mother… Lillian. Lena pushes the thoughts of her mother aside and stands as straight as she can manage, returning Alex’s stare with one of her own. She has aimed for utter defiance, but isn't sure how close she’s coming considering she has to focus so much energy to just keep from trembling.

Alex closes the gap between them slowly. She looks at Lena like she is trying to find some sort of long buried piece of a puzzle. An answer. Lena attempts to breathe normal, but it comes out uneven, awkward.

Then Alex grabs Lena's shoulder and pulls her close. It is a sudden movement.

Lena freezes. Stiffens. Unable to move or know what to do.

Alex wraps her in a firm hug, chin nestled next to Lena's neck. Her breath is warm and ragged.

She’s crying.

“Thank you,” she sputters. “If you hadn't protected her… She'd have… That blast… She was barely…”

Alex doesn't have to finish. Lena relaxes and returns the hug as best she can with her good arm. “I would never let anyone hurt her. Ever.”

There's a stiff nod followed by sniffling and finally a break in contact. When Alex pulls away, Lena tips forward ever so slightly, her body reacting to the withdrawal of support.

“Come on.” Alex wipes her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. “She's been asking for you since she woke up.”

Lena follows Kara’s sister through identical hallways lined with tinted glass, brushed metal, and polished concrete. After an elevator ride and a few additional security checks, they reach their destination. Past the open door, Lena can hear the gentle beeping of heart rate monitors. Her mouth goes dry. Her throat clenches.

Alex silently nods towards the room and takes a step back.

Kara is laying on a device that looks less like a hospital bed and more like a CT scanner. There are wires and diodes connected to almost every inch of her bare skin. Slender lamps hover above the bed. Even at a distance, Lena can feel their warmth. She notices that Kara’s wounds are bandaged. She looks smaller than usual, but even still, she looks strong. Lena can't help but smile.

“Hey you.” Kara grins. Her eyes are still red, but the spiderwebs of veins have subsided. She holds out her hand.

Lena takes it and instinctively squeezes. It is at that moment the Kryptonian notices Lena's sling and bandages.

“Are you okay?” she asks, worried.

The question is so ridiculous coming from an incapacitated woman in a hospital bed. Lena laughs, wiping tears away from her eyes.

“I'm fine,” she manages softly.

“Alex told me. What happened. What you did.” She squeezes Lena's hand, her speech is almost lazy. “You were so brave.”

“I couldn't lose you,” she states plainly. “Not after I just found you.”

Kara’s eyes close. Her fingers lace between Lena's. She holds her hand tight, almost painfully so.

“Thank you,” she says, turning to face Lena.

“For what?” She wants to brush back the stray locks of blonde hair that have fallen over Kara’s face, but that would mean letting go of her hand, and that just isn't going to happen.

There is no answer. The superhero has fallen asleep. Lena carefully sits on the edge of the bed, all the while never letting go of Kara’s hand.

This is where she belongs.

She'll be right here when Kara wakes up.

Waiting.

A Luthor and her Super.

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