#................i never looked at which was harrow holds it

[raayllum]

Faith and Relationships in TDP

Relationships in TDP—familial, platonic, romantic, etc.—place a lot of emphasis on belief. Do you believe me? Do you believe in me? Is the way you see me the way I see myself, good or bad? This has always been an undertone of course, but some Rayla-Aaravos parallels and Viren with Kpp'Ar made it ping in my head, so I thought it was time to talk about.

Relationships that will be examined roughly in order:

Harrow + Sarai / Harrow + Viren

Viren and Kpp'Ar

Claudia and Soren

Terry and Claudia

Aaravos and Claudia

Rayla and Callum

Janai and Amaya

Ezran with his council and Zym

Janai and her people

I'm sure there'll be others (Ellis is going to make an appearance at one point, Runaan and Rayla, and possibly Karim / Miyana as a contrast) but this is what came to mind most notably. I'm also going to do my best to stay out of the weeds with TDP talking about how characters view things (or their perspectives of each other / actions magic etc.) as beliefs as otherwise we'd be here quite literally all day, but there will inevitably be some of that. But without further ado let's look into it:

Living Up to How People Think of You: Does Being Believed In Make You Better?

Time and time again we see TDP frame faith (and trust though that could be a separate meta on its own, but we'll touch on it a bit here), specifically someone having faith in you, as something that can make you better. If you have faith in someone, you trust and believe in them to behave a certain way—in ways that likely align with why you love them or believe in them—and so long as those patterns are maintained, the love and faith and trust remains. The belief holds and continues to be a steady foundation.

This is something I noticed being particularly prevalent in S1, specifically between how Viren talks about his dynamic with Harrow, and how it mirrors how Viren talks about Harrow's relationship with Sarai.

Now this comparison is actually one of the reasons Viren/Harrow always felt a bit fruity to me ever since S1 aired, since as Viren explains:

He asked me to stand next to him for the portrait because he knew I would stand by him through anything. I have to stand by him through this too. [...] It means there's one more thing I can do to convince him. (1x02)

Your sister made him better. Harrow told me he was never as strong or brave

but he tried every day to be stronger and braver so he could live up to what she saw in him. (1x05)

For Viren and for Harrow, this "I want to live up to how you see me" was ultimately a good thing. In Harrow's relationship, he did his best to live up to how Sarai saw him, and that meant being a loving compassionate father, and trying to be a champion of "strength and justice". She reminded him of his best principles and understood them, and it's clear that her words got through to him in his final days with his rejection of dark magic and urging their sons to break the cycle. For Viren, Harrow's words likewise got through to him, with Viren becoming a better father for the first time since Soren and Claudia's early childhood and in what he sacrificed to save Katolis: his own refusal of dark magic, and acknowledging that like Harrow, he should've been a not just a king, but "a servant".

But in classic TDP fashion, someone believing that you can be better, or believing that someone makes you better, is not always a good thing:

Aaravos believed in humans when all the other elves and dragons thought we were worthless, stupid, dirty animals.

So he gave us magic.

Aaravos' 'belief' in humanity, and in Claudia by extension ("But no matter: your daughter is far more powerful"), is the foundation of her loyalty to him. Claudia is extremely receptive to how other people view her, which is why she's coarse about judgement and tries to maintain a positive internalized viewpoint ("But I'm not evil. It's me. You know me") of her own self and actions, even while routinely acknowledging that she's doing increasingly "vile, dangerous" things. Likewise, her belief in Aaravos begins with faith that he can save her father, evolves into gratitude for what he's given humanity (because until S6, dark magic is always routinely a positive net force to her), and is bolstered by her own feedback loop with a Viren who's trying his best. His assertion that "you do anything for your child never the other way around" while trying to spare her helps her justify Aaravos' actions, since he's acting on behalf of Leola, and therefore whatever he does is "necessary. Like my dad."

Conversely for elf-human relations, we have Callum and Rayla. Callum is also a burgeoning mage, and Rayla is also important to his magical journey, providing a listening ear and occasionally some sound advice. The S2 novelization goes so far as to say that Rayla is the first person to tell Callum

 “I believe in you.” Callum blushed. No one had ever said those words to him before, or at least not that he remembered.

And we see her routinely express faith in her friends, particularly Callum and Ezran, even when the odds are stacked against them, other people disagree (Runaan, Lujanne, Sol Regem), or they don't have faith in themselves:

She has faith that Katolis and her boys won't be like the Silvergrove when she returns (and they aren't). She does her best to believe in Ezran in 1x09, or at least not be a jerk even if she can't totally take him at his word due to her own skepticism. She's another elf who also believes that humans are capable and strong, and sometimes even more so than elves:

The human kicked dirt at her, and Rayla scraped at her eyes, angry—infuriated, even. Humans were frustrating. Humans were clever. Humans could do anything, they could be anything, they could take their own fates and change them—

Which is, of course, the opposite thread of belief that Aaravos actually holds, which is that his pawns will always make his parts and that Callum playing into his hands and being nothing more than a pawn is inevitable. Callum also returns this in 5x01, citing "If she didn't tell me, she had a good reason," and that knowledge/belief is all that needs to not only set Rayla free, but reassert that she doesn't owe him an explanation until she wants to give one free of obligation and guilt — as she eventually does, changing her fate bit by bit at a time.

So does being believed in make you better? Overall TDP says that it can if you let it and work consistently towards it, but it does depend on what the belief is. We'll also loop back around this idea when we talk more about TDP's thread of having faith another section from now, but moving forwards to:

Belief as a Continuing Thread

The distinction between "this person believing in me" as an act of betterment versus "belief as a continuing thread," is, in my head, a difference of actively working towards living up to person's belief in you versus that belief forming a continual relationship foundation of stability and stagnation rather than change. In other words, belief as a continuing thread probably bleeds in the most into worldviews—I am a good person because I do Y, I stand by your side because of X, and as long as those beliefs built on actions aren't disrupted, they are maintained.

We see this perhaps encapsulated most in Terry and Claudia's relationship. Terry's belief in Claudia isn't about any sense of making her better ("Look at her sleeping, she's just perfect"—4x04) or guiding her down a specific path ("I can't [tell you what to do]"—6x04). He's not trying to change her, but instead, it's the foundation of his support for her. His belief in Claudia is built into their dynamic and why he is so loyal to her, as he explains in 4x09:

I've seen you do a lot of awful things, dark magic things. But I always believed in you because you had a reason.

As touched on here in a meta more about Terry overall, this is also why he doesn't like Aaravos in S6, because Aaravos' reasoning isn't love but revenge, and that's Terry's internal tipping point, even if Claudia can't recognize the distinction yet.

Of course, we can also see these continuing bonds of belief be severed. Unlike how Viren was trying to live up to what Harrow thought of him, or Harrow with Sarai, Viren and Kpp'Ar's relationship was a much more outright, direct mentor-mentee dynamic, Viren even following in Kpp'Ar's footsteps to become high mage:

I turned on him. My mentor, my... my teacher. A man who believed in me when... when I was nothing, and spent years of his life invested years of his life helping me become... what I became.

It's worth noting, I think, therefore, that while Viren does have clear regret over coining Kpp'Ar, he does still describe the act as necessary to Lissa in the past and in recounting the event in the letter. It is only after he takes Lissa's tears by force that we see him directly agree with her assessment of him being a monster. We also see Viren's continuing search for importance ("When I was nothing" / "I thought you were going to be something special, something important!" / "You're a nobody" to Kpp'Ar) parallel Claudia's views on dark magic as well ("We weren't born with magic, we were born with nothing" / "Humans had nothing").

This continuing thread of belief is also what allows Rayla to bring people back from being 'monsters' in a way with Esmeray and Runaan later on in the season through her faith that she can get through to them and help them, and that they're capable of receiving help.

In a similar vein of disillusionment of Viren and Kpp'Ar, though, we also see Soren come to this realization (and then back again, in some ways, in S6) with Viren:

I've known Viren longer than anyone here. I mean, because he's my dad, but it took me a long time to understand who my dad really is. And it was hard to see, because I really... I really looked up to him. He's smart, and the way he talks, you really believe that he's a good person, that everything he does is to protect his family, his home, or all of humanity. He makes you think that as long as you do what he says, you must be doing the right thing. Even when he asks you to do something bad. Something evil. So the truth is, someone who wants you to do horrible things and convinces you that they're good, that's a villain. My dad is a villain. And he's only gonna get more powerful, and the more powerful he gets, the more people will listen to him, and believe him, and follow him.

We see the continuing thread of Soren not trying to change Viren or Viren trying to change for him (in arc 1), but of Soren understandably believing in his father and Viren's judgement precisely because of things Soren perceives as lacking in himself ("I know I'm not the smartest / Dad is so smart, so I figured there must be a good reason") and because as a child / young adult, you're inclined to believe whatever your parent tells you at more or less face value. That said, Soren does talk specifically about how belief in others can intersect with belief in leadership, which is interesting in its own way. So let's move onto:

Belief as Faith / Having Faith In Our Leaders

Having faith in our leaders is something we've touched on already, albeit indirectly. Sarai believed in Harrow to be "a champion of love and justice"; Soren and Claudia believed at different intervals that their father would be a good leader. We see this reflected in Janai and Amaya's relationship predominantly in season 6:

Do you think I can lead my people after everything that's happened, all the mistakes I've made?

We see this similar theme in how Opeli and Corvus interact with Ezran in S3, where they support him as a monarch, specifically, as well as a person:

Ezran and Janai are also characters who tend to have a lot of faith in others, as well, which is part of their leadership. Janai has "patience and faith" that they can rebuild, that the architect can make her amends, etc. Ezran routinely has steadfast faith in his loved ones and their ability likewise to be better (not executing Viren, setting Soren and Claudia free, "She'll know what to do" / "she's alive, and wherever she is, she loves you too" about Rayla, "I think he would want you to, if you wanted to" about Callum and Harrow, etc). Even with Zym in season two:

But we'll get it, no matter how impossible it seems. We believe in ourselves, and we're not giving up, are we?

which is also a sentiment Janai extends to her people:

So we can have faith in others, in ourselves ("I will learn magic. It's who I am"), in our leaders, some prejudiced worldviews ("No, humans are liars" / "Are they really your friends, or are they just taking advantage of you?") and have all those things intermingle. We've talked briefly about disillusionment in threads of continued belief, and failing to live up to the beliefs / views of how others see us, or when belief breaks. I want to close this out by talking about Runaan and Rayla, briefly, namely:

This fits in this section (in my head) precisely because Runaan is Rayla's leader as well as her father, which is a unique dynamic that only Viren-Soren&Claudia get close to replicating, of being believed in by someone who also very explicitly tells you what to do (hi Claudia with Aaravos). Runaan lived in one reality (Rayla can be an assassin) and then immediately went to the other (she never will be) with no in between.

Meanwhile, we have characters like Ellis and Callum, who are able to acknowledge other people's realities even if they can't (for a variety of reasons) fully commit to them and sit somewhere more in the middle, which I think is interesting, particularly when it likewise comes to changing plans or acknowledging other realms/perspectives of reality.

And if I go any further into those weeds I'll start talking about TDP's whole emphasis on trust that is twice as long as this meta already is, I'm sure, so with that I'll wrap things up (sort of).

Conclusion, Kind Of

This doesn't have a real conclusion because this is so sprawling with like, a hopefully but not necessarily coherent common thread, but basically:

When you act in alignment with how others see you, this can help you live up to your 'full potential' — good or bad. And if it's bad, that might be a time to break their continued thread of faith in you, or you towards them, in order to be something truly better and new. All relationships, positive or negative, depend on faith/belief because they depend on reliability and expectation, and when those things are broken, this can either transform a relationship for the better or demolish it completely.

Are you having fun? Was this fun?

Anyway can't wait for S7 to ruin my life with Terry-Claudia, Callum-Ezran, and Callum-Rayla's threads of belief in particular.

—Dragons out

[lno-x]

Not even a year has passed, here is the design for Gideon

It's not as detail-heavy as Harrow because overall I had to read and learn more about weapons than clothes (which was fun)

Details as usual under cut

Warrior Saints in Orthodox Christian Iconography

Religious formations rarely had warriors in their ranks, but there are number of holy martyrs who are considered great warriors.

In icons these Saints are often shown holding crosses, a spear or sword, and wearing armor beneath a cloack of red, also representing martyrdom.

My desing has a little in common with there bc is canon she was never described as wearing any armor or colors besides black, but I will use that knowledge for future works...

The Cavaliers (17th Century)

Need to mention that Gideon title (even if it's not real) is Cavalier – this term refers to the Baroque period, when this class of people was most widespread.

Its cool concept and i have seen that other artist do but for my personal opinion that too fancy for Ninth House (I always feel that Gothic Period fit them more)

Medieval-like design

That design not historically accurate at all but ig I can made up some things for vibe or creativity since its fiction at furst place and sci-fi at the second

Swept-hilt Rapier

Rapiers evolved from knightly swords with the purpose of lightening the sword, protecting the hand and increasing the distance in combat

Tbh his is the most common rapier with a stylized pommel (i am not that smart to make my own) but learning new stuff was nice

Zweihänder (Two handed German Sword)

Zweihänder swords developed from the longswords of the Late Middle Ages and was used by the front ranks of the army to fought with and against pike formations.

I highly recommend watching this lady's channel that talking about history of cold weapon, armor and combat technics. Thats an treasury of knowledge.

Knuckle Knives

Furst of all i wanted to make an bagh nakh kind of knives (you can learn more about it from this post), but in book its described as knuckles with three fixed blades protruding from the back (which is not really useful in a real combat as far i know but okay its just look cool)

Thats all thank you for your attention now i am going to watch second part of "How to train your Dragon" with ma bestie and two bottles of beer

[major-comet]

the biggest problem with tos’ episodic format is that the episode usually ends pretty quickly after the conflict resolves and then they never really talk about it again - no matter how intense or harrowing it was

which means that we don’t get to actually *see* the interpersonal fallout of bones being diagnosed with and cured from a previously-incurable terminal illness (that he didn’t even want to tell jim and spock he had), and then just four episodes later drugging them so that he can go be tortured (and likely die) instead of spock, and so jim doesn’t have to make the choice between them.

did they talk about it? beyond just a standard debrief and a “never fucking do that again bones i swear to god i mean it this time”? did they make it the captains’ quarters for the debrief, only for mccoy to be pulled into a crushing, trembling hug as soon as the door shut while jim tried to assure himself that bones was still here, was still breathing? spock hovering nearby - a hand gently coming to rest on his shoulder?

why didn’t mccoy want to tell them about the xenopolycythemia, anyways? to try and hold onto a few more normal-ish months before every time they looked at him their eyes would be filled with grief - mourning a man they hadn’t yet lost? the same reason he ran away; to spare them what he went through with his father?

only for him to immediately turn around and throw himself back to the wolves to (almost) die right in front of them anyways

i don’t really know how they handled it. whether they talked about it and attempted to soothe the hurt, or just resolutely tried to bottle it up.

but i do know this: spock eventually came back from gol because jim simply (though accidentally) called out for him in a moment of need. bones only came back because jim personally drafted him back into starfleet

[ithebookhoarder]

your Eloise fics have me in a chokehold! If you would I need an eloise and fem reader first kiss moment! friends to lovers type best

First Kiss (Eloise Bridgerton x F!Reader) 

A/N: Well, I love me a good ol' 'friends to lovers' trope, so thank you for sending this in! I am in full S3 mode. 💕Also, side note, but I see this request existing in the same universe/as a prequel to my other piece 'This Love' - which you don't have to read to understand this but if you want to, then check it out.

Warnings: Beginnings of smut, implied homophobia, era-appropriate sexism (let me know if I missed any)

Masterlist

"What if the way you hold me is actually what's holy? If long-suffering propriety is what they want from me, They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly, I choose you and me religiously..."

('Guilty as Sin' - Taylor Swift)

“I simply don��t see the appeal of such things.” 

“You don’t?” 

“No. What could be so appealing about kissing?” Eloise muttered, staring down at the couple on the other side of the library in which you had both hidden. 

Fed up with ducking dance partners for one evening, you and the Bridgerton girl (who had been your closest friend since infancy) had escaped the ballroom of the Smith-Smyth family town house and the festivities being held there. Of course, like most nights spent trying to hide from the Ton and its never ending scrutiny of young females, the pair of you had sought refuge in the library of the home. After all, it was typically the room least likely to be occupied, and had more than enough dark, quiet corners for you two to hide in, curled up with a good book until it was time to go home. 

It was far superior to being passed from one suitor to the next like some curiosity to be examined, admired, and appraised. 

Tonight had been no different so far, with the pair of you taking the first opportunity to bolt and conceal yourselves on the upper gallery of the impressive library. However, you had only been alone maybe a handful of minutes when the door had burst open and a rather amorous young couple had staggered through, a tangle of limbs and lips. 

Both you and Eloise had barely had time to even realise what had happened, let alone plan any kind of escape. Unfortunately, the upper level - whilst more private and out of sight - was only accessible via a spiral staircase. There was no way on earth either of you could make it down said staircase or all the way to the door without being seen.

You didn’t know who would be most embarrassed in that instance - you or the couple caught in a compromising position. That, and you’d also made the fundamental error of waiting too long to make such a decision and announce yourselves. 

As such, you’d had no choice but to scamper back into the darkness and pray the couple either didn’t hear the hushed shuffling above them, or that they simply left … and soon. However, given the groans and moans coming from the pair as they pawed at one another, you didn’t think they were in any rush to return to the ballroom anytime soon. 

 “I mean… mama says it depends on the person you’re kissing,” Eloise continued, eyebrow raised quizzically as she leaned closer to the railings as if trying to get a better look. “That if you’re with the right one then it all just feels ...” 

“Natural?” 

The word fell from your lips easily without a second thought. 

“Perhaps,” Eloise continued, tilting her head as the couple’s kisses began to move from their lips to other parts of their bodies. 

The sight was enough to make you blush, a sudden ache awakening inside you. It was an ache that had become strangely familiar to you in the past months, even if you would never confess such a thing aloud. You were a woman after all. You weren’t supposed to feel such things, let alone share that fact with other people. Maybe your future husbands, but that was ‘simply not done’ as your mother had cautioned you, whilst giving a rather harrowing talk about ‘the facts of life’. Demure, reserved, and dignified - that was what husbands wanted. 

Needless to say, none of those words could be used to describe you at present, nor your best friend. It was what had drawn you two together in the first place - a recognition of a kindred spirit, desperate to survive in a world that was clearly not designed for your kind. 

For the first time in whole your life, you hadn’t felt so alone. She too loathed everything society said you were supposed to enjoy - sewing, the latest fashions, making oneself appealing to the other sex. Instead, she encouraged you and your passions, sending you new books she thought you’d like about topics that interested you. She also spoke to you like an equal and wasn’t afraid to debate current issues like politics, female rights, and science. Hell, she hadn’t laughed when you had confessed that you’d be perfectly content living a life that didn’t involve a man at all (let alone as a husband). If anything, she had encouraged it. 

So, years later here you were, thick as thieves with Eloise Bridgerton and not the least bit interested in any kind of future that didn’t have her in it. 

“I just can’t ever picture me being like that with another person,” she continued, staring at the couple with seeming disbelief. “Especially not one of these boys that peacock themselves about the place, acting like they’re anything other than children showing off for the air-headed debutantes. It’s embarrassing honestly.” 

You tried not to laugh at your friend’s visible repulsion at the sight. She had never been one to hide her feelings and her expressive face gave their true nature away every time.

“Agreed,” you murmured, eyes still focused on the display despite vocalising your disapproval. “Oh. I… That hardly looks comfortable. In fact, she rather looks like she’s in pain.”

“Well, considering the fact that he looks like he’s trying to eat her, I’m not surprised.”

“El!” 

“What?” she scoffed, sitting up and finally crawling back from the edge of the railings. You followed, shuffling backwards further into the shadows and safely out of sight. Anyone who dared look up would be unable to see you from this angle. “It’s the truth. I’m merely surprised he hasn’t dislocated his jaw yet like some python and simply swallowed her, and her fortune, whole. I merely wish I could understand what drives a person to do such a thing. It isn’t exactly like one can simply look it up in a book. They all simply say that a kiss has some divine power that makes a person lose all sense. That can’t be possible.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it is.”

“Oh, really? What could possibly make you think that?”

You froze. 

How could you tell her the truth? That you knew it to be possible because every time you looked at her, what you wanted most in the world was to be able to pull her into your arms and kiss her like it was the last thing you would ever do in this lifetime? That, you had long known that your feelings towards her were well passed the point of friendly? 

Even now, your heart raced in your chest in a way it only ever did when she was near. The faint traces of her orange blossom perfume made your head spin and you knew you'd be smelling it hours after she had gone as you always did.

“I don’t know.” You gulped, trying not to let your warming cheeks give away your sudden train of thought. However, your mouth and your brain had never been the most co-operative of organs. They often had a way of defying one another, just like now in fact, as you opened your mouth and the words simply came tumbling out. “Maybe that’s the problem… maybe we don’t know because we have no experience. Nothing to base it on. Maybe, it’s one of those things you have to try and see for yourself… ‘find out’ as it were.”

Eloise’s eyes looked like dinner plates, they became so wide. 

“What? That’s… that’s a ridiculous proposition,” she choked, her voice raising dangerously loud. However, a well-timed moan from below brought her back to her senses as she remembered just where you were and what had brought you two into this situation in the first place. 

Switching back to a frantic whisper, she continued. “I … I mean - who - what… no one would agree to such a foolish idea, not when they’d think I was trying to entrap them into a marriage-“ 

“El-” 

“-and we all know they’d be desperate to brag about it to everyone. I would be dragged down the aisle by the end of the night, if my brothers didn’t drag them outside and shoot them first-“

“El!” You reached over and took her face in your hands. Holding her still seemed to do the trick as she instantly fell silent. “Breathe. Ok? I didn’t mean with a boy, or some stranger… I … I meant…” 

The words died in your throat as your mind raced to maintain in control. There were a million reasons why this was a bad idea, the first and biggest being that your friendship was the most precious and treasured thing in your life. Risking it was beyond idiotic. 

You knew that that was precisely what Eloise would tell you too, if she knew what you were about to say. However, you said it anyway. 

“I meant someone you trusted. Someone you knew. Someone who cared about you.” 

Eloise snorted. “And who would that be then? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I hardly have a line of suitors waiting for me, let alone any that suit those criteria-“ 

That was it. You couldn’t wait any longer. You kissed her. 

The kiss was everything you’d been brought up to fear and avoid, but you knew that nothing in your life had ever felt so right. You hadn’t been made to want anyone other than Eloise, and you’d spent too many years trying to force yourself to believe otherwise. To believe that your mother was right, that you’d find a suitable man and feelings would grow in time. To believe that you were wrong to imagine kissing a girl rather than a boy… 

Well, it was happening. It was no longer just a fantasy and… in a word? It was thrilling. The entire world stopped. The moment was breathtaking… and then it was over. 

You paused, waiting with bated breath for her to react. However, moments passed by and Eloise failed to say anything - which in itself was a signal something was wrong. It took a whole minute for her to even open her eyes, let alone look at you. 

Ice cold fear spread through your veins and you felt the world crumbling around you.

“I- I'm so sorry,” you choked, hastily pulling away. “I’m so sorry, I … just … I shouldn't have done that, El. Please, if you don’t say a word about this then I’ll stay away from you and you’ll never have to see me again. I promise-"

“W- what?”

Eloise blinked, suddenly waking from her stupor as you began to scramble to your feet, desperate to make your escape - amorous couple, or no. However, her grip was tight as she grabbed your hand, refusing to let you go. She was surprisingly strong.

“No, wait,” she begged, her desperation clear by the way her voice broke. “Please, just - just wait. I … I just was surprised. That’s all, Y/N. I wasn’t expecting it or to… like it. Or at least, not that much.” 

“You ... liked it?” 

"Yes."

You could have been knocked over with a feather at that point. Instead of rejecting you, or rebuking you, or even feeling repulsed by what you had just done, Eloise seemed almost excited as the shock wore off.

She began to smile, making the tension simply evaporate between you two. Instead, she looked almost liberated, her cheeks flushed and her lips were plumped from where you had just pressed them against your own. Several strands of her hair had also come free from their perfect coiffeur throughout the evening and yet, Eloise had never looked more perfect in your eyes.

You’d have done anything to frame that moment to preserve it forever.

“I did," she murmured. "It seems you were right after all. Perhaps it was a matter of finding the right person to kiss.” 

“I was?”

“Indeed,” Eloise purred, a newfound eagerness surging within her as she reached out and pulled you back into her arms. “But, maybe we should test it one more time? Just to be sure. Any sound scientific theory must be based on evidence, after all.” 

Well, who were you to argue with that?

[muxshwriting]

we always do...

Theseus Scamander x reader

summary: theseus and his wife may have very conflicting views on war, but they'll never go to bed angry and never leave the other in danger || warnings: fighting, violence || word count: 1567 || masterlist

REQUESTED by @malvikareader: Can you please write a Thesues Scamander x reader fic from your imagination (my minds not working as of now)

You often disagreed with your husbands job. Not in theory, because being an auror is an honourable and noble career. But in practise, the ministry was throwing him recklessly into a war and not to capture dark wizards. You knew that you couldn't stop Theseus from fighting, the reckless and caring man he is. But you wanted him to stay alive, even if it meant arguing with him about safety and trying to get him to take care of himself before running into danger to help others.

"Why do you have to go and fight?"

"I'm the head of aurors." Theseus said incredulously.

"You don't deserve to fight and die in this war just because you're an auror. You didn't sign up to be a soldier."

He shrugged. "Sometimes that's what the world needs."

You nod, seemingly finished with the disagreement before continuing to speak. "Where's you brother?"

"What?"

"He's sent us a letter," You hold up said letter for Theseus to see. "He's put together a haphazard alliance to try and singlehandedly take down Grindelwald. An alliance he implies you already knew about. Are you and Newt insane, Theseus? Have you been checked?"

Theseus chuckled slightly at your words. "Darling, Newt only told me about his team today. The letter arrived later than expected. I'm going to try and stop him from getting himself killed."

"Then I'm going to stop you from being killed." You declare.

"I'm not going to be killed, Y/N."

"You're throwing yourself into a suicide mission and I can't let you do it alone. Look-"

Theseus pulled you into his arms. "I know. I know." He comforts. "We'll get through this together, right?"

You give him a watery smile. "We always do."

"We always do." He agrees, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and then your lips.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, your hands fidgeting in your lap as you start to realise what the future may hold for you and your husband. Slowly, you're realising the harrowing weight of your new quest and the increasing likelihood of an outcome that involves death.

"Have you got something on your mind?" Theseus asks softly.

"Besides the obvious, no." You glance out of the window, unable to look him in the eyes. "I love you Theseus."

He replies in earnest. "I love you too."

★--~-~--★

The crowd shouts as Newt leads you all through the German Ministry of Magic. Theseus' hand has a firm grip on yours, keeping you close to him and trying to keep you safe. You stay by his side as Newt tries to pass on his message to Vogel. The Supreme Mugwump steps up to make his final speech, beginning normal and then starting to take a more sinister turn.

Newcomers begin to slink into the room, a few faces recognisable from Paris. They're Grindelwald's followers, meaning that this tea party in Berlin won't end as calmly as you hoped it would. The three of you follow the newcomers as they weave through the crowd, being watched as you do this and almost taunted by them.

"... insufficient evidence exists to prosecute Gellert Grindelwald for the crimes against the muggle community of which he was accused." The Supreme Mugwump pardons Grindelwald of all his crimes as Theseus approaches his followers, attempting to place them under arrest.

One sneaks up behind you and a wand presses against your temple. Your body freezes in place as you try to see who has you under threat. The shift of your head had the wizard behind you wrapping his arm around your neck to hold you in place.

"Theseus!" Before he could reply, Theseus is hit with a spell he never saw coming and drops to the ground. The crowd began to thin as people didn't want to be involved and swiftly left the room. You begin to struggle against his grip, trying to fight back but an utterance is heard and the world goes black.

When the world comes back into view, the first thing you realise is that you're upside down. Secondly, your hands and ankles are bounded together and chained to the ceiling of the dank cell you find yourself in. Thirdly, you're alone. Theseus is nowhere to be seen but you can hear the chinking of chains to your right.

"Theseus?"

The clinking stopped. "Hello? Y/n, is that you?"

"Theseus!" At least you weren't in this prison alone. "Are you alright?"

"I think so?" The answer came out as a question. "I'm upside down for some reason."

You can't hold back your laugh, imagining your husband strung up by his ankles and swinging in his cell. "Me too. I think the blood is getting to my head."

Theseus sighed. "Yeah. Are you alright though? You aren't hurt?"

"I'm alright." You reply. "Can't wait to get out of here, but alright."

The two of you hang together for many hours, drifting in and out of consciousness as the blood rush become too much at times. You're awoken to someone calling Theseus' name and getting closer.

"Rescuing us are you?" Theseus tries to joke.

"That's the general idea!" Newt replies, edging closer. You see he's being followed by a large consortium of crabs, all copying the bizarre way he is walking.

"Is this a strategic move or do you just like to walk like that sometimes Newt?" You ask him.

Newts shrugs slightly. "It's called limbic mimicry, supposed to discourage violent engagement."

"Supposed to?" Theseus asks.

"Theoretically. I've only attempted it once before with inconclusive results." He continues to ramble about his experiment as he now faces Theseus.

A giant tail sprouts from the central darkness to assess the space next to Newt. The three of you freeze in place, Newt dodging the tail. A few levels down, a firefly lamp goes out and the prisoner screams. The tail retracts and a stinger takes it's place, aiming directly for the screaming prisoner and dragging him down into the depths.

In the chaos of the smaller crabs, Newt cut Theseus down and moved on to sever your bonds as well. You dropped to the floor, angling your body so you'd land on your side and shoulder instead of your head.

"Thanks Newt." You sarcastically say, pulling yourself to your feet and moving towards Theseus. Newt was once again focused on the crabs, who were interested in you all again.

"And the plan is?" Theseus asks.

Instead of answering, Newt cupped his hands to his face and blew, letting a whistle-like noise echo throughout the prison.

"Uh Newt? That's not a plan."

"We're gonna need some help." He suddenly struck up his pose to 'discourage violent engagement' and the crabs copied him without hesitation. After the exchange of some heavy looks, you and Theseus copied him and began to the slow ascent to the exit.

Just as you neared the top, Theseus stepped on one of the crabs, crushing it. Before any of you could say a word, the lamp began to flicker in and out and the distinct rumbling of the giant creature began. The tail popped up from the darkness and the trio ran. As you weaved through narrow stone corridors, the creature's tail crashed through walls just behind, hunting for it's prey. It began to shoot poison from it's stinger that was so strong it melted stone.

You and Theseus were separated as you tried to avoid the flying poison and the onslaught of regular crabs which had reappeared. The number of appendages that the creature had seemed to only grow as they appeared in every direction, hunting for you.

As a limb reached toward you, you jump over a different limb and continue to run. Spotting Theseus in the corner of your eye, you make a beeline towards him and almost crash into him as you slowed, Newt joining you. You all took off down yet another hallway as the rocks collapsed behind you, separating the creature from the group. Or so you thought.

Before you had a second to breathe, the creature had wrapped an arm around your waist, squeezing you and pulling you backwards. Theseus called out your name, grasping your hands in his and trying to keep you close. Newt tries to help but Theseus' grip falters for a moment and you slide closer to the edge.

Out of nowhere, Pickett appears with Newt's wand and you all fall into the pit before apparatting out of that godforsaken place.

Your back slams onto forest floor, limb still wrapped around your waist. The feel of it repulses you as you try to squirm your way out and push it off of you. Theseus pulls it off as it continues to move and wriggles away through the leaves.

Now on your feet, your hands are batting off and dirt and leaves stuck to you, still convinced you were being crushed by the creature. Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears and your hands have a slight shake to them. Theseus gently approaches, grasping your hands in his and staring into your soul.

"You're alright. It's over. We're safe."

"We got through it." You mutter, stumbling into his arms.

Theseus melted in your embrace, dropping his head onto your shoulder. "We always do."

"We always do..." You whispered back like a mantra, a prayer that you both would and a promise that you did.

[redeyerhaenyra]

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

Summary: It's been a month since you've broken up with the moon knight system, and you start to notice someone.. watching you

Warnings: Stalking, breaking and entering, kidnapping, yandere themes, angst, no beta we die like harrow

Notes: So after all the positive responses on this post I just had to create in headcanon form- for those who want to listen to the song that inspired this fic, here :)

Breaking up with the moon boys was the hardest thing you'd ever had to do, but it did need to be done.

With the near constant dissappearing to do Khonshu's bidding, sometimes for weeks on end, with only a note or a text to tell you where they were and then radio silence, it was just too much for you. Your heart couldn't take waiting for them, worrying that they would never return, even if Khonshu was protecting them.

And so, you had begun the process of moving out during the time they were away on a mission.

Marc had come home to find your clothes, trinkets, anything that would indicate your presence gone.

You were there though.

Normally you'd be so happy to see him again, running up to him and kissing him with all your might.

Today, instead, you sadly smiled at him.

"Baby, what's up?" Marc had asked, gently holding your forearms after you had rejected his hug. He could tell you were upset.

"Baby?" "I'm leaving, Marc. I'm sorry."

He had stared at you, dumbfounded. You swallowed down your tears- "I can't do this anymore." You didn't have to explain, you knew what he meant.

You waited anxiously for his response, instead spying his eyes roll back into his head, and now you were faced with Steven and oh god, his eyes, they were already tearing up.

Coward, you thought of Marc, which was admittedly a little harsh but breaking up with them would be so much harder facing Steven's sorrowful gaze.

Steven looked terrified, moving to cup your face in his hands and you had to physically move back to stop him.

"D-darlin', please, what'cha talkin' about?" "I'm sorry steven-" "Please don't leave us love, please, 'can't do it without you please-"

"Stop it." You'd said firmly, Steven sobbed. You couldn't help but take his hands in yours, ever wanting to comfort him.

"Steven.. I will always love you," "Then why'd you have to leave!?" "Because I can't do this anymore!!"

You were both crying now. "I-i can't take waiting for you to never come home to me anymore, Steven, I can't do it."

Steven's gazed was fixed on the ground, his tears dripping onto the floorboards. You gave his hands one final squeeze, before pulling away.

"I will always love you, all of you, but my heart cannot take it anymore.. goodbye."

The strength with which it took to pull yourself away from Steven should have won you a medal, and you couldn't stop yourself from crying even more as you left him.

That was a month ago- with the help of a few friends you'd found yourself a decently priced flat for rent on the other side of London. Far enough away, you hoped.

It wasn't far enough. Jake had found out where you lived within days of you leaving. He knew it was wrong, but the part of him that didn't care grew and grew into something monstrous. At this stage the other boys weren't saying anything to disapprove of his actions, and so he continued to watch you.

He'd drive circles around your block to relearn your new routine, and you hadn't yet realised it was his cab you kept seeing.

The one person you actually hadn't said goodbye to was Jake- he hadn't fronted when you'd left, and you would always wonder if he was there, just choosing not to show himself. But if he wasn't? He'd have woken up to the discovery that you weren't together anymore and you'd always feel guilty for that.

But... you tried to move on with your life, as best you could.

It felt wrong to start dating again, but your friends had urged you to, even if it was a one night thing.

The guy you'd matched with on bumble was nice enough, smart, good looking- he wasn't them though. While he was polite and friendly during your dinner date, he wasn't your boys.

He'd walked you home, and you'd set up a second date. All things considered it was successful- but you just felt.. wrong about the whole thing. Like you were cheating, even though you weren't.

You'd guessed it wasn't all that successful, as he'd ghosted you a day or so after your date.

It was a week or so later that you'd seen the news report of his body having turned up in the Thames. God how awful! He hadn't ghosted you- the poor guy had been murdered.

Jake had really earned a bollocking off of Steven and Marc for that one, but he knew they were relieved you wouldn't be seeing that man again.

You'd decided to halt the dating game after that, for a while at least.

You were lonely though, there was no denying. Having no one to cuddle up to in bed sucked.

And so.. the logical conclusion was a pet, no?

Eventually, you found a young, ginger tomcat named "Franklin" in a nearby animal shelter and you just fell in love, you brought him home the same day.

He was great, not exactly filling the whole in your heart left by three men but you certainly adored him, and who wouldn't say no to curling up in bed with a cat every evening? Certainly not you.

One day, you'd left work for your lunch break only for the horrifying realisation to hit you: You'd forgot to feed Franklin that morning! You rushed home as fast you could- only to discover that, you had fed him, even when you were sure you hadn't.

And yet there he was, munching on his bowl of kibble.

Something squeaked under your foot- you looked down- oh, it was one of Franklin's toys. You threw it across the room for him to play with but- hang on... you didn't remember buying him that toy.

You shook your head free of thoughts that you were going mad- everyone forgets things, even buying specific cat toys. Or maybe one of your friends had left it when they'd been over- it didn't matter.

You moved to leave your flat and return to work- only to find your door lock jammed.

The locksmith you'd hurriedly called in was able to fix it in a jiffy, though advised that the jam was probably due to a break in, and that you should change your locks.

A chill ran down your spine- you checked and double checked, nothing of value had been stolen, but someone had been in your home! Is that who had fed Franklin? Who'd left him the toy?

You changed the locks, and threw out the strange toy.

Jake couldn't stop watching you. It was becoming more and more of a problem.

He was ignoring Khonshu and actively pushing Marc and Steven out when they tried to front, knowing they'd put and end to his antics.

But none of them could deny that they wanted, needed you back. Jake just considered himself the only one with the balls to get you back.

There was no warmth in his life now that you weren't there. Steven's flat no longer felt like home without your t-shirts in the laundry, or the brand of coffee you love but Marc hates in the cupboards.

He knew he ought to leave his little girl alone, but the fact remained you were his little girl. Jake would stop at nothing to have his bebita back.

Now it was two months since you'd broken up with the system. Life wasn't perfect, but you were chugging along.

You turned the lights on in your flat, yawning. Work was tough today, but it was Friday, and you had some left over popcorn in the cupboard. Film night~!

"Franklin? Baby? Mummy's home~!" You cooed, knowing that he always came bounding up and purring whenever you came home.

But.. he didn't. Your flat was silent. No distant meowing or the jingle of the bell on his collar. Nothing.

"Franklin?" You stepped further into your flat, worry seeping through you.

"Franklin..?!" Your tone became more and more erratic with the realisation that Franklin wasn't home- and then someone had covered your eyes with their hand, and pressed a strange scented cloth to your mouth. You kicked and screamed and struggled but it was no use- the chloroform had knocked you out in seconds.

Jake held you tenderly to his chest as you faded into unconsciousness. Steven had earlier expressed his distaste at this plan, but neither him or Marc said anything now, so close to having you again.

You woke the next day, nauseous and tired. The distant meowing you heard gave you comfort- it had all been a bad dream.

But when you opened your eyes, you were met with the horrifying scene of Steven's flat, not your own. So familiar, in any other situation you would have been glad to be here.

You shifted to sit up, eyes working their way down to notice your ankle tied to the bed with the restraint normally reserved for Steven.

You choked back a sob- a hum ripping your gaze to the other end of the room.

There lay Franklin, enjoying some pets from the man who's lap he laid on.

Jake Lockley stared back at you, you could tell it was him, you could always tell between them.

"Buenos dias, hermosa." His voice was rich like coffee, normally so comforting but now? It sent a shudder down your spine.

"You and I have some things to discuss, sí?"

[weskie]

Relief (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

900 words | hurt/comfort themes | Fic Directory

His first injection did not go smoothly. 

Albert Wesker is a man of many strengths, but even God is not always immune to the trials and tribulations of laboratory science. Especially not when said science is meant to enhance what makes him so special. 

Yet here you were, one of his chosen. But you knew better than to think of yourself so highly; chances are you're simply a pawn. You know cunning and deceit when you see it, and he stinks to high heaven of such dark qualities. 

Excella gives him the first dose of the supressant, a concoction designed to give him perfect control over the virus in his body.  It is measured precisely based on her own studies and calculations. However, pride kept her from allowing anyone else to analyze her work. There's no immediate response, and she smiles happily. 

And yet you know better, because you had seen her work. Compared to your own, she was way off– as you tried to tell her. She’d been careless with her decimals, a simple mistake with grave consequences. But you are lower on the totem pole. Your word doesn't matter until hers proves to be no good. 

She probably regrets ignoring you when his face twitches, teeth clenching as he grips the edge of his chair, howling the first of many exclamations of harrowing pain. 

“Albert! I–”

But his hand goes around her throat in a mere flash, silencing her, halting any attempt to touch him. 

“You– gah!” He snarls, eyes flaring a deep, fiery red around his cat-like pupils. He drops her and, in turn, falls to the floor himself. Wesker hunches over on his knees, wails of agony leaving him as he clenches his chest and head. 

The virus coursing through his body is being assaulted by an overdose of the suppressant, turning it more volatile and painful by the minute. Balance was key, and he had been thrown far from it. 

There is no counter agent, no painkiller, no balm to soothe his agony– for what could ever help a god?  Both you and Excella watch him writhe, but her fear keeps her from doing like you. 

You're not even sure why you did it. 

You sit behind him, legs splayed, and you pull him back to lean against you. His animalistic growls and pained, gasping breaths fill your ears, but all you do is hold him tight like some sort of human restraint. 

Excella stares at you as if you'd lost your mind. 

Perhaps you have. 

A gloved hand grips your forearm with a force so punishing that it makes you yelp. He could break you with one finger, but he's clearly holding back. He could tear you limb from limb even now for invading his space like this. 

But he doesn't. 

“Breathe, Mister Wesker,” you say. You have his honorific wrong– it's doctor– but surely nobody in the room cares to notice. “It will pass, but you must breathe.” 

A growl and seemingly involuntary jerk of his body disrupts your words, but you hold tight nonetheless. 

You do so for nearly an hour.  Against every tremor, against every wave of pain the likes of which you could never imagine. The only noises to be heard are his tight breaths and the hum of fluorescent laboratory lights. 

Sometime in the middle of things, Excella scurried off to fix her mistake. She begged for forgiveness, but he shot her a look that made her go as white as a ghost. 

The sleeves of your lab coat are shredded, arms bruised, and Wesker himself looks no better. It's as if all the fight had been torn out of him and he was no stronger than any mere mortal. The grip on your forearm is leagues lighter. 

He's probably going to kill you for touching him like this. For reducing him to some helpless infant in need of comfort and support. 

His breaths have steadied. 

Somehow you'd brought your free hand up to thumb at his cheekbone. Some odd, inappropriate manner of soothing his pains. 

“Mister Wesker, I–”

“Save it.” He says, cutting you off. Even his voice sounds weak. That fancy edge to it is gone almost entirely. 

He's clearly awake and aware. Why isn't he moving away? Hell, why aren't you moving away? 

“It was in your best interest to assist me.” 

He's posturing, repositioning his authority despite what had just happened.  Your thumb stops moving and that hand around your forearm grips tighter. When you resume, it slackens. 

“Bold of you to have done this,” he hums. “And all this time I thought you lacked a spine.” 

You're not sure what to say to such a statement. You're not sure what he's getting at either. A punishment? A reward? You can practically hear a smirk in his words despite the fact it was nowhere in sight. 

“I can feel you shaking.” 

Shit. 

“Hm…” Wesker releases a sigh, something you've never heard from him before. “Tell you what, pet.” 

Pet? Pet? 

“Continue your little ministrations until I am on my feet, and I will consider your crimes forgiven.”

What? He wants you to keep this up? 

“Does that sound satisfactory?” He asks. “Answer me, pet.” 

With wide eyes and shaking hands, you nod. 

“Y-Yes, Mister Wesker!”

“Good, good... Now, what punishment has Miss Gionne earned for herself, hm?” 

[milswrites]

The embers that remain

~ Eris Vanserra X Reader

Summary: Eris tells you some unwanted news.

Warnings: angst, angst and more angst.

Notes: Gotta keep these break up fics flowing.

It started with the wavering touches. The way Eris’s usually firm hands now hesitantly hovered over your body, afraid to close the space between you.

Then it was the way he couldn’t quite look you in the eyes. His amber eyes always opting to stare elsewhere whenever he was in your presence.

The final straw was the stale turn your conversations had taken. The fact that no matter how hard you tried to pull answers from the male he remained as silent as the grave.

But what bothered you the most was the guilt ridden expression which failed to leave his face. His permanently furrowed brows and drooping frown marring his once handsome features.

For a while you allowed him to get away with it, accepting the new sullen persona of which he had adopted. Though once the dark bags had begun to grow under his tired eyes and his cheekbones had sunken into his pale skin, you decided that enough was enough.

That whatever burden Eris had opted to try and carry on his own needed to be shared. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for the Autumn Prince and if needing to share the weight of his problems would enable him to feel better, then you would hold up entire mountains for the male you loved so dearly.

It took numerous attempts for you to stir him from his turbulent thoughts. Your concerned voice and comforting hand coaxing him from his fortified mind. Gently squeezing his knee until the clouds which fogged his whiskey eyes had dissipated, his smoky orbs still failing to meet your own even as they cleared.

“Please my love,” you hummed softly, kneeling before where he was sat, hands clasped on both his thighs, as you looked up at the dejected male, “Share your worries with me. You needn’t battle them alone Eris, not when you have me.”

Your comforting words drew his pained amber eyes to finally meet your warming ones. His brows knitting together in distress, Eris slowly shook his head at you, the Prince tried to deny your gracious offer of help.

Trying to encourage the male to open up you pressed on, “My love there is nothing you could say or do that would ever change my opinion of you. You’re hurting Eris, let me help you.”

You didn’t miss the flash of anger which briefly crossed his harrowed face, the twitching of his nose and slight lift of his lips into a snarl. But you felt no fear, somehow knowing the fury wasn’t directed at you.

“I’m here to listen Eris,” you urged him to speak, begging eyes wide as they searched across his gaunt face, “I could never judge you.”

“But you will!” he finally seethed, teeth slightly bared as his chest rattled which each breath he took. “You will judge me” he cried, his voice breaking as the words fell from his trembling lips.

“No Eris. . . I’d never. Whatever it is it’ll be ok, we can figure it out together” you reasoned giving his thigh another reassuring squeeze from where you were sat on the floor.

“No we won’t” he denied, head still shaking lowly, that cursed expression of grief never faltering from his troubled face.

It was a tense minute of silence before either of you spoke again, but then the source of Eris’s worries tumbled from his lips, “I am to be wed to a woman from one of the outlying cities before the next harvest.”

His words were a knife to the heart. Whilst there had always been the hovering prospect that Eris would have to do his duty to his court and marry another, the two of you had been so caught up in the blazing inferno of your love to ever allow the doubts of the possible reality to cross your minds.

“How long have you known this?” You ask in shock, trying your best to recall when Eris’s sudden change in attitude had began.

The Autumn Prince blanched at your question, clearly having known the answer for longer than he has let on.

“How long Eris?” You repeated solemnly, slipping your hands from where they were resting on his legs to instead consciously knit them together on your lap.

“Two. . .three months?” He shamefully mumbled, a gasp catching in your throat at the revelation of just how long he had kept this secret, “I wanted to wait to tell you. I hoped I didn’t have to at all, that I’d find a way out of it. That it’d never come to this.”

“So you thought you’d just hide it from me for three months? When were you going to tell me you were to be wed Eris, when you were halfway down the aisle?”

“I wanted to tell you” he defended weakly, drawing in another long, shaky breath, “But telling you makes it real and that reality I just couldn’t bear facing.”

“But here we are” you stated, eyes lining with watery tears.

“Here we are” Eris sighed in confirmation, quivering hand reaching out to clasp onto your own. The burning heat from his palm a painful reminder of the comforting heat he had provided you these long years you had spent together.

“So this is it?” You croaked, voice already hoarse from the flood of emotion that had overcome your senses.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he reasoned stubbornly, “we can work something out, see each other still. I can buy a house for you where we can meet.”

You turned your face from the male in disappointment, “I won’t be your dirty secret Eris. I can’t be. Your wife-” your voice cracked at the title, “your wife deserves you in your entirety. Deserves the chance to love you as deeply as I have been able to.”

Flames raged in Eris’s eyes at your refusal to fight, at the dismissive way you had already written of your relationship as a lost cause.

“I won’t love her, never. She’s not you, she never will be. She may be my wife but she’ll never have my heart, that will be yours forever” Eris cried, the heat he was emitting in his burning rage was enough to boil the crystalline tears which fell down his cheeks.

“I’ve always thought you’d make the most wonderful husband Eris,” you weeped opting not to tell him that you had always assumed you would be his bride, “I know you’ll treat her right. That you’d be a good husband. A good father.”

“But it’s not with you!” He sobbed, cursing the gods for the cruel fate he was handed. Losing his faith in the Mother for her misguided choices.

“I’ll always be grateful for the time we were allowed to share my love” you consoled, bringing your free hand to brush back the red locks which had fallen in front of his eyes, “we’ve had such wonderful adventures and I’ll treasure them forever. But. . .we’ve always known your duties would have to come first in the end. We both just chose to become blind to it.”

“We’ve still got time” he begged, leaning his head into your soothing palm, “there’s two months till harvest yet.”

“No my love” you answered, words cutting deeply into Eris’s heart, “That’s not fair. It’s already hard enough as it is. Take the time to move on from me, to ready yourself for another.”

“I’ll never move on, not completely” he promised, warm lips coming to meet your tender palm.

“You’re so strong my love. You will find happiness again” you assured him, confident eyes meeting his own broken gaze.

Eris wasn’t sure how even in the face of adversity you were able to tell the male exactly what he needed to hear. But he was certain that no other woman would ever hold a candle to the force of nature that was you. And as the flickering flame in his eyes dulled into a pitiful ember, Eris swore that he would never allow himself to forget you. That despite your orders to move on, his heart would belong to you in its entirety until the day his fire extinguished.

[rosesocietyy]

The details of what happened to Claudia is harrowing but there is an effort to bring to text what was more visually implied in 1.06, that there are ways in which lestat and bruce occupy the same role and represent the same thing to her (and Louis). When she threw bruce's name in place of lestat's last episode I was wondering if they'd lean more into it and they did

This exact moment got me bad

Louis' misery was an affront to him and was punished severly for it. The blame of their rotting relationship was placed entirely on Claudia for her dissatisfaction with the roles they forced on her. Lestat was still bitter about it to the very end even when he tried to mask it as banter "is that witticism from the Duke of Gloom?" Nothing else but this supposed gloom that exists in a vacuum is the sole destroyer of lestat's perfect life and he's had enough, and Claudia gone forever will solve all his problems.

And looking at Louis' reaction a part of all that pain he felt for her was for himself too. The hold lestat has on him makes him blind to many things but never to Claudia's pain and his. He did make it a point to tell us that he was dissociating during sex, and he was quite clear on all the damage lestat did to his body. Guilt and philosophizing on forgiveness be damned he still thinks lestat deserved what happened to him

[eddiediazbuck]

I love your Eddie fics 💕

Could you write an Eddie x reader who works at the 118 and she likes Eddie but dosent think he likes her back because she is a tomboy. And they fall for each other with a bit of angst but a happy ending?

Sorry if that’s too much

TOMBOY - EDDIE DIAZ

You’ve always been one of the guys at Station 118. It's where you fit in, where you’re comfortable. As a firefighter and paramedic, you’ve made a name for yourself with your skill, determination, and ability to keep up with the best of them. You were tough, unyielding, and yes, a bit of a tomboy. But there was one person at the station who made your heart race every time he was near: Eddie Diaz.

Eddie was everything you admired in a person—brave, kind, and incredibly handsome. But you were convinced he would never see you as more than just another member of the team. After all, you weren’t the type of girl guys like Eddie went for. You didn't wear makeup or dresses, and you preferred a good workout session over a shopping spree.

Today was just another day at the station, and you were in the middle of a tough training drill. Eddie was there too, of course, leading the exercise with his usual focus and intensity. As the drill came to an end, you found yourself paired with him for the cooldown.

“Nice work today,” Eddie said, giving you a nod of approval. “You really pushed through.”

“Thanks,” you replied, trying to keep your cool despite the flutter in your chest. “You too.”

As you both stretched out, Eddie glanced over at you, his eyes thoughtful. “You know, I’ve always admired how strong you are. Not just physically, but mentally too. You never give up.”

You laughed softly, shrugging off the compliment. “It’s part of the job. Gotta keep up with you guys, right?”

Eddie’s expression turned serious. “It’s more than that, Y/N. You’re incredible at what you do. Sometimes, I don’t think you realize just how amazing you are.”

His words caught you off guard, and you quickly looked away, feeling a blush creep up your neck. “Thanks, Eddie. That means a lot coming from you.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur, but Eddie’s words stuck with you. Could he really see you as something more than just one of the guys? You pushed the thought aside, focusing on your duties. It was safer that way.

--- --- ---

A few days later, you found yourself on a particularly harrowing call. A building had collapsed, trapping several people inside. The entire team was on edge as you worked tirelessly to rescue the victims.

Eddie was right by your side, his presence a steadying force. As you crawled through the rubble to reach a young girl trapped under a beam, you felt a sharp pain in your leg. You gritted your teeth and kept going, knowing there was no time to waste.

Finally, you and Eddie managed to free the girl and carry her to safety. But as soon as you set her down, your leg gave out, and you collapsed.

“Y/N!” Eddie was at your side in an instant, his face etched with concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though the pain was evident in your voice. “Just a scratch.”

Eddie shook his head, not buying it for a second. “Let me see.”

Reluctantly, you allowed him to examine your leg, which was bleeding heavily from a deep gash. Eddie’s jaw tightened as he applied pressure to the wound. “You’re not fine. We need to get you to the hospital.”

Despite your protests, Eddie refused to leave your side. He rode with you in the ambulance, holding your hand the entire way. It was the first time you had seen him so visibly worried, and it both warmed and broke your heart.

At the hospital, you were patched up and given orders to rest. Eddie stayed with you, refusing to leave until he was sure you were okay.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m just one of the guys, right?”

Eddie’s eyes softened as he took your hand in his. “You’re not just one of the guys, Y/N. You’re special. And I’ve been too afraid to tell you how I feel because I didn’t want to risk ruining what we have. But seeing you hurt today made me realize I can’t keep pretending.”

Your heart raced as you looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and warmth there. “Eddie…”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. “I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. Tomboy, warrior, whatever you want to call yourself. I love you for who you are.”

Tears filled your eyes as you pulled him close, your heart finally feeling at peace. “I’ve fallen for you too, Eddie. I was just too scared to believe it could happen.”

He smiled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “Well, believe it. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

From that moment on, things changed between you and Eddie. The team noticed, of course, but they were nothing but supportive. And as you continued to work side by side, you knew that you had found something truly special—a love that saw beyond appearances and cherished the person within.

--- --- ---

Back at the station, the team’s dynamic began to shift subtly. Bobby, Buck, Chimney, and Hen had all noticed the change in your relationship with Eddie. During a quiet moment in the kitchen, Hen nudged you with a knowing smile.

“So, you and Eddie, huh?”

You tried to play it cool, focusing on stirring your coffee. “What about me and Eddie?”

Hen laughed softly. “Oh, come on. It’s obvious. The way you two look at each other now. It’s sweet. I’m happy for you.”

You felt your face flush, but couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Hen. It’s still kind of new, but it feels right.”

Hen’s smile widened. “That’s all that matters. You two deserve to be happy.”

Despite the initial awkwardness of everyone adjusting to your new relationship, things fell into a comfortable rhythm. Eddie’s support and presence became a constant source of strength for you. And in turn, you found yourself being there for him in ways you hadn’t realized he needed.

One evening, after a particularly grueling shift, Eddie invited you over for dinner. It was a rare night off for both of you, and you gladly accepted. As you entered his cozy apartment, the smell of something delicious cooking filled the air.

“Hey,” Eddie greeted you with a warm smile, pulling you into a hug. “I hope you’re hungry. I made your favorite.”

You grinned, feeling your heart swell with affection. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, Eddie.”

He chuckled, leading you to the dining table. “It’s no trouble at all. I wanted to do something special for you.”

As you sat down to eat, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourselves talking about everything and nothing at the same time. It was moments like these that made you realize just how deeply you had fallen for Eddie.

After dinner, you both settled on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms. The comfort and warmth of his embrace made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t felt before.

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie’s voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Of course,” you replied, looking up at him.

“Do you ever feel like…you have to prove yourself? Like, because you’re a tomboy, people expect you to be tougher or stronger than you actually feel?”

You thought for a moment before answering. “All the time. I’ve always felt like I had to be one of the guys to be taken seriously. But it’s exhausting, trying to fit into a mold that doesn’t really fit me.”

Eddie nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “I get that. And I hate that you feel that way. Because you don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Y/N. You’re amazing just the way you are.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at his words. “Thank you, Eddie. That means more to me than you know.”

He gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “I mean it. I love you for who you are. And I want you to know that you can always be yourself with me. No pretending, no proving. Just you.”

Tears filled your eyes as you leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. In that moment, you felt a sense of peace and acceptance that you had longed for your entire life.

As the weeks turned into months, your relationship with Eddie continued to grow stronger. You faced challenges together, both on and off the job, and your bond only deepened. The rest of the team became your biggest supporters, cheering you on and offering advice when needed.

--- --- ---

One day, while on a particularly intense call, you found yourself trapped in a burning building. The flames were closing in, and panic threatened to take over. But then you heard Eddie’s voice over the radio, calm and steady.

“Hang in there, Y/N. I’m coming to get you.”

His words gave you the strength to hold on, and within minutes, Eddie was by your side, guiding you to safety. As you stumbled out of the building, coughing and covered in soot, Eddie pulled you into a tight embrace.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice filled with worry.

You nodded, tears streaming down your face. “I am now. Thank you, Eddie.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you close. “I’ll always come for you, Y/N. Always.”

In that moment, you knew without a doubt that Eddie was the one for you. He was your partner, your confidant, and the love of your life. And no matter what challenges lay ahead, you were ready to face them together.

The seasons changed, and with them, your relationship continued to blossom. Eddie introduced you to his son, Christopher, and you quickly formed a bond with the bright, kind-hearted boy. The three of you spent weekends together, going on adventures and creating memories that you would cherish forever.

One evening, as you sat on the porch of Eddie’s house, watching the sunset with Christopher playing nearby, Eddie took your hand in his.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice filled with emotion. “I never thought I could feel this happy again. You’ve brought so much light into my life, and I can’t imagine my future without you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you squeezed his hand. “I feel the same way, Eddie. You’ve shown me what it means to be loved for who I am. And I’m so grateful for you and Christopher.”

Eddie smiled, his eyes shining with love. “I want us to be a family, Y/N. Will you be a part of our family?”

Your heart soared as you nodded, tears streaming down your face. “Yes, Eddie. Yes, I will.”

He pulled you into a passionate kiss, and you felt an overwhelming sense of joy and completeness. You had found your place, your home, with Eddie and Christopher.

As you looked out at the sunset, wrapped in Eddie’s arms, you knew that no matter what challenges came your way, you would face them together. Because love, true love, sees beyond appearances and cherishes the person within. And with Eddie by your side, you had found a love that was unbreakable.

And that made all the difference.

[rafesapologist]

bigger than the whole sky — rafe cameron

summary: rafe cameron was your first and last love. the two of you met at the very beginning of your high school days, and said your first 'i love you's by the time you were merely sixteen. your relationship was electric and wild, a place were you could finally let your guard down. as you two grew older and entered your college years, you quickly became a safety net for rafe against a harrowing father and a broken family. you vowed to be the one who was a safe space for the boy you loved to be able to run to, but he carried demons even you couldn't erase.

warnings: grief, angst, swearing, death, mentions of drug and alcohol use, depictions of mental health issues

author's note: y'all i'm so sorry for this one i just love writing angsty stuff pls forgive me in advanced

"I love you." Rafe hummed a gentle melody of benevolent words into your ear as he observed you carefully through his empyrean-crafted sapphires that you always found yourself getting lost in, ones that were specific to him only, which only made you love them more.

"I love you too, Rafe. Always." A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, a behavior that you couldn't help yourself from doing caused by the giddy feeling that was making your heart swell by being in the presence of your high school sweetheart who you swore you were going to grow old with.

You peered up at him with your chin rested on his chest, unable to contain the jouissance that was so clearly written across your features. You felt like right then, you could picture an entire life within his cerulean irises that bored right back into yours. You slipped into a daydream as you wandered the thoughts that crowded your mind about the everlasting potential of where you and Rafe were going to end up. You envisioned being in your thirties and coming home to the place you and him would buy together, perhaps a small cottage somewhere off the islands in a small town, or even a capacious apartment in a big city where the people never sleep. You'd be greeted at the front door with a bouqet of morning glories that were set out for you at the kitchen table, your favorite flowers that Rafe took mental note of since you told him when you were fifteen one day while passing a greenhouse on the way to school. Once he'd finally realized you were home, he'd welcome you with open arms and an embrace that watered down the agglomeration of stress that burned in the pit of your stomach after an insufferably long day at the job you strived so hard to get. He'd shower you with kisses across your face that made the agony of a rigorous work day much worth the tribulations you endured.

Perhaps you'd stand there for a moment, basking in the way his body heat warmed you up like a heated blanket that you didn't want to take off. He'd rub your back and allow you to take a moment to yourself, the first you'd be able to have all day. You would stand there for a moment, soaking up the joy of finally getting to see him, and you'd tell yourself that you never wanted to go to work again because it only took time away from seeing his handsome face. In the midst of you caught up in cloud nine in his arms, you'd also be greeted by the fluffy feline the two of you adopted together when you found out you were finally getting your own place, just you two. Nobody else.

"What are you thinking about, pretty girl?" Rafe asked in a whisper, gazing at you with admiration laced in his eyes. He scanned your face while he looked to read your expression, slowly combing his fingers through your hair with a gentle pace, fearing that he would hurt you and tug at your scalp if he went any faster. Like you were made of glass that he would break if he didn't hold you with ease.

"You and me." You murmur with the same gushing expression painted on your face, your cheeks flushed with heat.

"What about us?" He questioned again, tilting his head with curiosity.

"Our future," you admitted, snuggling into his side further, "I can't wait to spend my life with you, Rafe. You're the only one I could ever see myself growing old with, and the only one I'd want to do that with."

Rafe's rosy-pink lips curved until a faint, simper smile. His eyes remained trained onto you as they flickered between your left and right eye, taking in every detail of the way your eyes glimmered while you looked at him.

"It'll always be me and you, y/n. You're the only pure, healthy love I've ever had in my entire life. I'd be a sad empty man without you." He masked his vulnerability with a light-heated joke, although you knew there was truth to what he was saying.

"Well it's a good thing I'm not going anywhere, Mr. Cameron." You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"I surely hope not, future Mrs. Cameron."

｡･ﾟﾟ･

There was a tropical storm that had blanketed Figure Eight when you got the phone call the your boyfriend was passed out and unresponsive at some party he had attended with Kelce and Topper. It was a jarring phone call to have been woken up to, with Topper's shaky voice and screaming heard in the background, a moment in time that will forever be ingrained into your head.

You rushed over as soon as the call had ended. You took off so quickly that you left your house with nothing on but an oversized t-shirt and some pajama shorts that had seen better days. You couldn't care less about your appearance or the fact that you had to drive through one of the worst storms you had seen since you moved to the Outer Banks, because quite honestly, the weather was fitting for a scene like that.

Once you had arrived you didn't even take the time to take the keys out of the ignition before racing out of the car and into the crowded house, full of intoxicated teens who formed a circle around your unconcious boyfriend who laid across the living room floor of whoever's house it was. You felt like screaming, collapsing, and throwing up all at once when you had finally pushed yourself through the nosy crowd of bystanders who watched in shock.

"Topper, Topper," you called out in a shaky cry to your boyfriend's best friend, "what happened? What did he do?"

"I don't know I-"

"I said what the fuck did he do, Topper?!" You yelled in a sudden outburst as the severity of the situation began to settle and brought you back into reality while you held Rafe's in your arms, rocking back and forth in an attempt to wake him. But it did no good.

"I saw him snorting a line of coke with a group of guys earlier, and I'm pretty sure I've seen him with a drink in his hand all night." A random bystander suddenly chimed in, causing you to snap your head in the direction of where the voice was coming from. You had locked eyes on an unfamiliar blonde girl who looked back at you with horror written on her face, discomfort present in her body language.

"No," you squeezed your eyes shut as tears began to flow from them relentlessly, shaking your head as though you refused to believe he would do such a thing knowing how much it would hurt you, "no he wouldn't do this. He wouldn't do this to me."

"The ambulance is on the way." Kelce announced as he point to the phone pressed to his ear.

You couldn't regulate a single emotion in your body at that point. You felt as though you had lost touch with yourself and whatever the hell was going on around you, as you grew tunnel vision on Rafe's motionless body that laid heavy in your lap. You weeped to the point that you felt your throat tighten, almost as if you couldn't breathe, suffocated by the absence of hope that the boy you loved was going to wake up. You could have sworn that a few blood vessels popped in your eyes from the way that you cried out with an indescribable passion and fury. Fury for the selfishness Rafe had in himself to be able to behave so recklessly, despite knowing you were back at home trusting that he would do the right thing and stay safe. But his desires and addiction were two things that ruthlessly clouded his judgment and steered him down a dark path. One that you always feared would take the best of him from you and rip him away.

However, you got lucky that night. The ambulance had come just in time to be able to resuscitate him successfully, and you thanked the heavens above for the blessing that he actually got another chance to live. But you were sure as hell not going to let him down easy this time, fearing that there would be no more 'close calls' or being lucky if it were to happen again. Therefore, you pushed him into going to rehab for once. It took a lot of begging and pleading, but after seeing the manner in which you broke down so intensely when discussion how his addiction effected both you and him, he eventually obliged to your request.

｡･ﾟﾟ･

After three months of treatment, Rafe was finally discharged from the rehab facility. You had visited him nearly everyday while he was there, but seeing him outside of there was completely different. The moment you saw him for the first time since he left, you ran to him and greeted him with the tightest hug he had ever felt in his life. Your emotions got the best of you, as they normally did when it came to Rafe, and you had sobbed into his chest as he held you for the first time since going to rehab.

"Please don't ever do that to me again, Rafe. I would have lost my mind without you." You let out a muffled cry into his shirt as you clutched onto him as if he was going to dissapear if you let go.

"I won't princess, I promise. I'd never leave you. I'm so sorry." Rafe cooed as he kissed the top of your forehead, clenching his eyelids shut as tears began to flood his azure-colored eyes. The same ones you missed waking up to every morning over the last three months while he was gone.

"Lets get you home. I don't want to see this place for another minute." You muttered as you backed away from him to wipe your tears away with the sleeve of your shirt.

"Of course, baby."

｡･ﾟﾟ･

Things were looking up for the two of you once Rafe completed his rehab program. It seemed as though he was back to the boy you had met when you were in high school, happy and full of life. You spent everyday thanking the universe for keeping him around and giving him the strength to make it through such a scare. For the first time since you were eighteen, you were finally hopefully for Rafe's sobriety and maintaining it. You knew it wasn't easy for him, of course, but you believed in him.

"I wanna talk to you about something." Rafe voiced as he sat next to you while you ate your usual bowl of cereal for breakfast.

"Okay.. Talk to me." You replied a tad mumbled, trying to talk with a handful of cereal stuffed in your mouth which made Rafe chuckle in return.

"You remember when we used to talk about getting our own place together someday?"

"Yeah? Why?" You questioned, cocking your eyebrow at him.

"Well, I've been putting aside some money over the last few months since I got this job, and I've been waiting until I had enough to do it to tell you. But, as long as you're ready and want to still, I'm ready for us to find a place." Rafe declared with a beaming grin growing on his face.

You responded with a shriek as you threw down your cereal bowl onto the table, immediately leaning forward to hug Rafe in excitement for the good news. You might've kissed him a hundred times before you actually said a word because of how much joy you felt knowing that you were finally getting the chance to have a place of your own with the boy you've loved since you were sixteen. A dream of yours that you've been dying to fufill.

"Oh my gosh, Rafe! I can't believe this. I can't wait. I love you." You smiled wide, giggling as you pulled him in for a hug once more.

"I love you, y/n. I can't wait to start our lives together. This is just the beginning."

｡･ﾟﾟ･

It was 1:48 am.

You were sound asleep in the bedroom that you shared with Rafe in the apartment you had together bought six months prior. It was a peaceful, clear night with not a cloud in the sky. It was almost haunting how quiet it was.

You laid in bed curled up with the cat Rafe had got for you shortly after you moved in. He was a long-haired, brown feline that you decided to name Bear. Immediately after getting him, you practically treated him as though he was your own child. Yours and Rafe's. Just like that night, and many others, he would often sleep curled up next to you and send you to sleep with the sounds of his loud purrs and occasional snoring.

There was nothing abnormal about that night. No warning to the devastation that was to be ahead. You were unsuspecting and unaware that there was even any potential threat that would disrupt your nearly-perfect life that you had grown accustomed to with Rafe. Although sometimes, you wish there had been something that would have warned you of the doom that was impending.

When you had went to bed, you had just got off the phone with Rafe. He had went out with a few of his close friends for one of their birthdays, promising to return before you woke up. You saw nothing to worry about. It had been over a year since Rafe's overdose and you had complete faith in him, a regained trust that you had momentarily lost when the first accident had happened.

You remember exactly what words you said to him last on that very phone call. Not only because of the significance of the call, but because you made sure to tell him every single time before you hung up.

"I love you."

A word you had uttered a million times to him, even though it still never seemed like enough. You knew that Rafe secretly enjoyed how much you said it though, since you were the only one in his life that had told him it in years at that point in time. His family had moved off and cut off contact with him once he had finally stood up to his dad. His sister, Sarah, stayed behind in Figure Eight with her boyfriend, John B, once they had attained a substantial amount of money after finding the gold.

You were practically Rafe's lifeline once you two had moved out together, a job you were perfectly fine with because you would have done it a million times had it meant that he was happy. You loved him. You loved him so much that when he hurt, you hurt. You felt his pain when he lost himself from his addiction, and you cried as he did when he had trouble adjusting to the move. But you past all the grief and the struggles he faced, believing that Rafe was a fighter and much stronger than what cards he was unfortunately dealt with in life.

But despite the countless efforts of getting him help and supporting him through his sobriety, Rafe nevertheless had demons he did not deserve, some of which he hid from even you. He faced a battle within himself frequently although he never showed it, realizing that it would only be hurting you to see him in such a state. So he continued his facade of pretending to be that carefree, content boy he was back when you first met him. But his perception of life and reality was tainted by an addiction that haunted him deeply, so deeply that even you couldn't take it away regardless of how much he loved you.

You were Rafe's first and only love. The love of his life, he would say. You were a breath of fresh air in a world full of melancholy, despondency, and corruption that surrounded him daily. He had worshipped the ground that you walked on, even on your worst days. You truly did not wrong in his eyes, a saint that was sent to him from the clouds up above. You had truly blessed his life, in ways that you had never truly believed despite how much he tried to remind you. He wanted to make sure you knew how thankful he was for you everyday, and he never failed to tell you so.

It was 1:48 am when you got the call that Rafe had died.

You lost a piece of yourself that night, or perhaps all of you went with him when he passed. Either ways, you were never the same. All of the plans you had made of a future that would never come, haunted by the reality that Rafe was now forever just a memory in the depths of your mind that you hoped to never lose, even in your old age. After his funeral had passed, you sold your apartment and moved back to your hometown, too haunted by the memories of your past life to be able to move back to Figure Eight. The place you met.

The only thing you took with you from that home was the cat that he got for you after begging him for weeks once you had moved in. You find that you cherish him, Bear, even more because he is your very last memory of Rafe Cameron. The very first and the very last boy you have ever loved.

[yoditopascal]

My Jake

Pairings: Jake Lockley x afab!reader

Tags: SMUT MDNI,NOT BETA READ, unprotected sex, rough sex, dark!possessive Jake, overstimulation, jealous!Jake. It’s super short sorry y’all

a/n: I’ve been rewatching avatar and the way Neytiri says ‘ma Jake’ got to me

To say Jake Lockley was interested in you was an understatement. Mans had a borderline obsession.

He just had to know how you ticked and once he did he doubted he’d ever be able to let you go again.

Avatar to the god Anubis he first found himself fascinated in the fact that you couldn’t die. Through Marc and Steven’s eyes he’d seen you be stabbed, shot, had your throat slit and more and everytime you just healed and kept fighting. That’s what drew him to you, simple morbid curiosity. Your connection to the duat and the way you fought as an avatar was beautiful in the most poetic way he could think of. You essentially became a god of death, sucking the life out of evil with one touch, ferrying them to the afterlife to be judged for their wrong doings. He'd never seen anyone fight the way you did. And the emotions you expressed while you did it, he couldn’t wrap his head around why you wept for some of them but you did and it made him all the more curious about you. You were different.

Next was your love for Steven and Marc. Though platonic in nature you still gave them your heart in full. Steven was almost instantaneous, the man had you wrapped around his little finger with his puppy eyes and soft voice. To you he could do no wrong. Marc took a bit more work but after a few life or death missions together and the whole saving the world from Harrow fiasco Marc was just as much of a trusted friend as Steven was. Jake wasn’t sure if you could tell when he front and pretended to be Steven or Marc but whether you could tell or not you treated him just the same, voice just as sweet when you spoke to him and only him, touch just as delicate and as soft, sometimes he wished you would just hold his face in your palm and never let go something he’d usually never admit but you made him feel…different.

Lastly what drew him to you was jealousy. He saw how you looked at Layla when she wasn’t looking or how you hung onto every word she said. He also saw how she looked at you sometimes too, how she smiled shyly and looked at you through her lashes. He couldn’t let that slide.

Which was how you found yourself underneath him, tears in your eyes as you wailed with every aggressive thrust of his hips.

Hovering over you, his pupils blown with feral lust Jake grabs at your hips, desperate to anchor himself as he drove away savagely at your core.

A whine seeped from your lips, your skin felt like it was on fire, sensitive to his contact, burning touches following each placement of his long fingers.

“Give me one more cariño”

He was starting to lose himself in you, his hands continued to dig into you as his thrusts got harder, rougher, making a complete mess of the both of you, leaving bruised touches in his wake. He felt your pussy suck him in even more, cunt dripping with every movement he made.

Looking down he became mesmerized by the way he disappeared inside of you, another wail escaped from your lips as his thumb found your clit once more, refusing to let up as he rubbed furious little circles into it, body growing feverish under his gaze and from the intense pleasure you were experiencing.

“Give it to me cariño, I need one more.”

With every flick of his finger, hot pleasure rocks its way into the pit of your stomach, you cum quickly without warning with a scream, overwhelmed by his heavy body on top of you and overstimulation, causing him to pause but only for a second before he starts up again.

“Please my Jake, please”

You pleaded completely spent, lightly pushing against his abdomen in a weak attempt to get him to stop.

He ignored you, focusing instead on sucking along your breast with fervor. You reached up and tugged onto his hair hard, just enough to get him to listen to your pleas but he only grunted, continuing his menstruations as he ground himself into your core.

“So fucking wet for me hermosa, gimme one more.”

[runningfrom2am]

in this life or the next (part II)

summary: you and rafe won the 75th annual Hunger Games as a team, but at what cost?

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 11.4k

tags/warnings: not as much as you would expect for a Hunger Games fic honestly. spoilers for the og Hunger Games movies I guess (but also not bc i changed it up a bit- you'll see), Ward being a shitty dad (as per usual). also this isn't thoroughly edited bc.. it's long and i'm still lazy.

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a/n: hi guys! this is part two of this fic, and i'm honestly pretty proud of how this story is coming together!! i hope anyone who enjoyed that one enjoys this one :) also i very much set it up for part three so look forward to that (eventually).

"Without further adieu, I'm pleased to welcome back, from District One and District Five, Rafe Cameron and Y/N Y/L/N, this year's Victors!" The base of the talk show's theme music bellowed in your ears as you followed your cue, holding tightly onto Rafe's hand as you took the stage again. You never imagined you would be back here, but you're grateful to be.

"Rafe, Y/N, I cannot honestly put into words how pleased I am to have you both back with me tonight. We're all so excited to have you- aren't we?" Caesar smiled, riling up the crowd once more as the cheers had died down. Rafe had a smile glued to his face, squeezing your hand once you were both sat down before letting it go.

"We're happy to be back." Rafe replied and you nodded, smiling over at him. He looked so much better- the colour had returned to his skin, a subtle pink flush you didn't care to take notice of before the games.

"I bet you are." Caesar nodded. "We have so much to talk about, but first, I'd like to personally congratulate you both on your win. This was the first-ever games to produce two winners, I hope you understand the extent of your accomplishment."

"Thank you, yeah." You smiled, turning your attention to the man across from you. "I couldn't have done it without him."

"Likewise," Rafe said, gently nudging your shoulder with his hand. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a smile.

"God, I just love your chemistry." Caesar said, smiling and leaning his chin onto his palm. This resulted in more laughs and cheers from the audience. "This is a perfect segue, actually," He sits up straighter again, a slight laugh leaving him. "You were aware that we were all watching, right? Because there were some very real... intense moments between you two in the arena that had us on the edge of our seats. The whole 'will they, won't they' tension was so palpable. So, I think we all just want to know, was it real?"

Rafe nodded, watching the man intently as he listened to him speak. You were both wondering where he was going with that, but while you felt your face burning red, you came up with a logical answer that effectively dodged what he was really asking. "I mean, yeah, of course, such significant amounts of stress on both the body and the mind would make anyone vulnerable in a way you wouldn't expect."

Rafe shifted in his seat, turning his gaze to you as Caesar nodded at your answer. "But with Y/N it was just so easy. She gave me a new perspective on everything, which I appreciate still so greatly. Just, yeah I don't think I could ever see myself sort of... opening up in that way with anyone else." Rafe added, thinking for just a moment before shaking his head with a slight laugh. "I didn't even care that the world was watching, because I knew she was listening, you know?"

A chorus of 'aw's came from the audience and you smiled at him, looking to Caesar quickly to gauge his reaction. His was fairly similar, hand clutched to his chest with a pout in his lip. "Well, there's your answer, folks. It's very real. That is just so sweet." He nods.

"Rafe is right," You chimed in, silence falling over the building. "But truly it is just such a harrowing, scary experience, and up until last year's games we had never seen tributes connecting in a way that we were given the opportunity to, in a similar way to Katniss and Peeta had, the tributes from twelve last year. I think that is a new experience for both the viewer and for us as tributes, and it sets a new standard for the games. I just count myself so lucky that I got chosen to be Rafe's partner, because otherwise we never would have met- or we at least wouldn't have gotten the chance to see each other as real people, with thoughts and feelings and families waiting at home."

When you finished speaking, the silence stuck for a few moments that felt like an eternity. "Well... Yes, I suppose you're right, Y/N." Caesar agreed, but you still felt in your gut that you had said something wrong as the audience murmured and whispered to each other. "I think this is a good time to move on, because Y/N, you just have such a way with words, and we all saw in the games that you have... just one of the most amazing minds we have ever seen in a tribute."

"Isn't it cool?" Rafe added, leaning in and looking between the two of you with a smile on his face. "Caesar, I told you she had a secret weapon!" The audience loved this, instantly coming back to life with laughs and cheers.

"Yes, you did! We definitely didn't expect that!" Caesar chuckles. "So, Y/N, let us in a little bit more- at what point did you realize that the arena was recycled?"

"Oh, immediately." You answered with a nod, folding your hands in your lap. "Honestly by the time I saw the cornucopia for the first time I confirmed it, it was kind of a relief."

He claps his hands together, clearly impressed. "That's incredible! You proved it over and over again. My favorite part was the bag- we were all so confused and I personally got a bit of a laugh when you were trying to point it out to Rafe and he just had this hilarious confused look on his face! From the first thirty seconds, you guys already had this dynamic that had everyone in Panem hooked on watching you. So please, Y/N, tell us what your secret is. How your brain works, if you will."

"Please, Y/N/N." Rafe agreed, mocking Caesar's intrigued posture as he gazes at you waiting for you to elaborate.

You laughed, gently smacking his shoulder. "I just... I don't know. I see something, learn something, whatever the context may be, and then I just know it. I assume it's the same for you, but I just hold on to all the extra stuff. I think I'm broken, or something. I didn't even know this was abnormal until Rafe pointed it out during our training- I just always thought I was smarter than my siblings." You joke, laughing slightly.

"Well, I can only imagine you would be hard to compete with academically with a mind like yours." Caesar chuckled. "So, tell us, what's next for Panem's favourite couple- as I understand you now are."

You and Rafe made eye contact briefly. You hadn't talked about it, despite having hardly left each others sides since you returned. "I don't know." You shrug. "I suppose whatever you guys tell us to do."

"I think we'll go home, see our families, relax a bit and then we'll be back and ready for the victory tour in a few months." Rafe cut in. Had you said something wrong again?

"And we can't wait- we will miss having you guys on our screens everyday, that is for sure." Caesar smiled, standing up which made up your signal to do the same.

"We look forward too seeing you again soon." Rafe smiled, shaking Caesar's hand as you stood up, quickly adjusting your dress in the meantime.

"Thank you so much for joining me tonight, and congratulations again on your win. Enjoy your time at home." Caesar turned to you, giving you a quick hug before you held Rafe's arm and walked offstage, waving to the audience for hopefully the last time in a while.

As you recalled the memory of the last time you saw Rafe in person, you find yourself getting nervous at the idea of seeing him again. It had been a long six months- and you had exchanged an endless string of handwritten letters.

Life for you in the Victor's Village was pleasant, refreshing, even- since it had felt like forever since you had known any kind of peace. It's in a quiet area of town, giving you lots of space to enjoy real fresh air in a way that felt safe. Unfortunately, your vivid nightmares couldn't be quelled by the cool breeze or your sisters sleeping peacefully next to you or the room across the hall.

Rafe had found out that yes, you did sign your name with a heart normally. At least, you did in the many letters he had received from you. It had been the longest six months of his life, but at the same time, a whirlwind of everything happening all at once. Regardless, he spent the entire time walking on eggshells around his father.

When Rafe was reunited with his family, his sister had thrown herself at him with such force he stumbled back when he caught her in his arms, holding her tight with a hand over the back of her head. "I never thought I would see you again..." She mumbled, chin wobbling against his shoulder.

"I missed you so much, Wheeze, you have no idea." He whispered back, gently stroking the back of her hair. He put her down gently, but she refused to let go of his waist as he acknowledged the rest of his family. Sarah, stoic, standing alongside their dad with a matching expression. She, somehow, had a smile behind her eyes that Rafe was all too familiar with. Sarah was happy to see him, though she would never admit it in Ward's presence.

"Rafe." Ward smiled, suddenly, shockingly, only until Rafe realized they had cameras on them as his father walked up and smacked a hand onto his shoulder, guiding him away. District One was proud to have another Victor to add to the growing roster, and they would always celebrate accordingly. Somehow, Rafe didn't feel special.

"Hey, Dad," Rafe replied, smiling nervously as his dad gave his shoulder a squeeze. He knew he was in trouble- big trouble, and maybe staying in the capitol wouldn't have been so bad. He hoped you were facing a more genuine welcome in Five.

"Are you excited to see your girlfriend today?" Sarah asks, bringing him back to reality as she leaned against the entryway to their home gym. To Rafe, their whole house felt cold now. The mansion was decorated mostly in white, with marble flooring and high ceilings that made the home feel so much emptier than he remembered it. Most of the time, he stayed alone at the home he'd been granted in the victors village.

"Yeah. I don't think she's my girlfriend, though." He replies, hardly tearing his eyes away from the combat training equipment that still haunts him.

Sarah furrows her brow accompanying a confused laugh. "What? Only all of Panem sees you as the hottest couple, but you don't know?"

"We never got to talk about it. So, yeah, I don't know."

"Will you ask her?"

Rafe shrugs, getting up from the bench and throwing the towel over his shoulder. "Probably. She's the only good thing I can think about, these days."

"You better get on that. I heard from the news that there's an engagement announcement on the horizon!" Sarah calls, turning on her heel as she heads back down the hall.

Rafe sighs, grabbing his water bottle and heading out after her. He's wanted to talk about this, of course, but in the victor's interview you mentioned that anyone would be so vulnerable with all that stress- and he couldn't help but be a little hurt by that. Then again, you've sent him letter after letter since you had been apart, so the signals he's getting are mixed- to say the least.

As he changes into the clothes his dad picked out for him for the first day of the Victory Tour, he hopes that seeing you again will bring only good memories. Not that there are many to choose from- but something in his gut is telling him that you will be the cure to his nightmares, or at the very least, someone to talk to about everything, even if it's just for a few months a year. Forever.

You're standing at the train station, surrounded by your family and an array of cameras, everyone anxiously awaiting the two of you being reunited. It's unknown to you if he will even get off the train, part of you hopes that he doesn't so your sisters don't get the chance to bug him. "He'll be happy to see you, hey?" Your mom interrupts your thoughts, nudging you gently with her elbow.

"Maybe." You shrug, pulling at the loose strings on the hem of your dress. "I don't know, I don't want to go. I'd rather stay home, Mom."

"I know, sweetheart... And we'll miss you." She sighs, kissing the side of your head and pulling you close with an arm around your shoulders. "But maybe it'll be nice to talk to him. He must understand you better than we can, these days."

"I don't know about that." You say softly, gazing down the tracks at the sound of the train quickly approaching. You take a deep breath, turning to hug your sisters so you have time. You were on a very tight schedule already, Opal was making sure of that. The train couldn't leave a minute late- even though you're sure that you and Rafe may be precious cargo, considering you're the only ones on it, spare for your teams, and the only reason the train is making this journey at all.

"I'll bet he jumps out of the train and tackles you to the ground because he missed you so, so, soooo much!" Your youngest sister giggles, clinging tightly to your arm.

You decide not to acknowledge it, eyes locked on the silver metal as it pulls up in front of you. "Don't say anything to him, you best leave him alone." Your dad reminds her, peeling her from your arm and into his side instead.

The door slides open, and just as you're lifting your one bag you're met with Rafe. Seeing him for the first time in person for months is shocking. He looks tired- you guess he's been having nightmares too. "Y/N.." He says, almost breathlessly as he leans against the door of the train.

"Hi." You whisper, giving him the best smile you can muster. Truly, you are happy to see him, but you do know he has to put on a show of the two of you being reunited. He jumps down, taking three large strides toward you before pulling you close and burying his face in your hair. "I'm so happy to see you."

"Me too." He mumbles, letting you go after a moment.

"Welcome to District Five, I guess." You laugh nervously, gesturing around you.

"Thank you, I've never been here before," Rafe explains, rather unnecessarily. "The ride was beautiful."

Opal is trying to usher you from behind the camera to move onto the train, and Rafe's hand is hanging at his side, fingers brushing gently over your arm. You get the message, just about to finally wave off your family for a second time. "Wait, hold on." Your dad cuts you off, stopping you both in your tracks.

"Thank you, Son." He nods, holding out his hand to Rafe. You can see his chin wobble, but you can also see that he's trying to keep a brave face for the cameras. Your family had been warned to not speak to him, to just say goodbye and let you walk onto the train since your reunion would be telecasted live- but he just couldn't let Rafe get away without him knowing how much he appreciated him saving you.

Rafe takes his hand and shakes it, returning the nod. "I would have died before taking her from you." They would have a less formal opportunity to meet towards the end of the tour when you revisited Five for a big celebration in both of your honour. You were already dreading it. Anyway, now, they only really had time for pleasantries. Not even that, if they were to follow Opal's schedule.

Cameras are quickly cut, and you wave goodbye now as you're actually forced onto the train. "Gosh, you two, we have places to be. Seriously." Opal says sternly, walking on behind you along with your stylist's team.

It's only a little while until you were talking again, like you had never been apart- and like everything was normal. Until, as the sun set over the mountains in District Eleven, you both got quiet, looking out the array of windows in the very last car.

"I'm glad to see you normally sign your name with a heart."

"Huh?"

"Uh, in the cave. You put your name on the wall, with a little heart beside it. I remember wondering if you normally write your name like that, and you do."

"Oh, yeah. When I'm signing something, I guess." You agree with a slight shrug. After a few moments of comfortable silence, both of you staring out the window over the tracks, you continue. "We're going to get in trouble. About what you said to my dad."

"I meant it," Rafe replies, not missing a single beat.

"Did Snow come to see you too?" You ask.

"Yeah." He nods. "I don't really care though, what can he do to me that he hasn't already done, you know?"

"He'd go after your sisters."

"He mentioned something about that. He won't, though. He's just trying to scare us into smiling for the cameras."

"I don't know..." You sigh. "I'd rather not risk it. Play it safe."

"You'll be doing that for the rest of your life, and he'll only demand more and more." Rafe shakes his head at you, reaching out and taking your hand. "With whatever is happening in the districts, he wouldn't run the risk of hurting our families. Your family, in particular. Panem loves your family, you gave them security by speaking so highly of them in the games, and they bought their own by spending all that money to send both of us something from home. He couldn't touch them without the whole country losing their minds."

"What? What's happening in the districts?" All you had seen on TV was reruns of your interviews and highlight reels of your own games. You tried not to watch much TV.

Rafe's eyes flicker with confusion as he scans your face. After a moment he realizes that of course, you wouldn't know. He only knows because of his dad- the news was so heavily censored in the outlying districts that there's no doubt you wouldn't have heard about the uprisings. "I-uh... My dad told me some stuff. There's been a couple of uprisings, nothing serious, but still. He wants us to keep them happy." He decidedly leaves out the fact that people in farther districts, outside of your own, are really not your biggest fans.

"Oh... Well, I'll try my best. Do you know what they were about?"

"No, uh, I don't know much about it. Sorry." Rafe mumbles, dropping your hand to push himself up from the couch. "I should probably get some sleep. You too."

Looking at how dark it is outside now, he's probably right. You have a long couple of weeks ahead, starting tomorrow. Starting it off with a full night's sleep would no doubt be beneficial- and who knows what time Opal will be waking you up in the morning.

You stretch out your arms as you stand up, yawning as you follow Rafe out the door and toward your cabin where your things are waiting for you.

It's not long after a quick shower that you pass out in bed, already tired and lulled to sleep by the steady movement of the train. And it's not long after that until you're standing on the silver pedestal that typically haunts your dreams yet again.

You look around, trying desperately to put together the pieces of where you are. You can't. You can, everything looks the same, but there's a feeling of panic in your gut that tells you you don't know a thing as the timer ticks down in front of you, the sound echoing throughout the arena.

Your head snaps to the left when you hear someone yelling for you. Your sister. She looks pale, you can practically see her shaking from where you're standing. She's yelling at you still, but you can't make out what she's saying as you realize that it isn't just her. Your whole family is there, and no sign of Rafe.

How are you supposed to do this without him?

The timer reaches zero, and the alarm blades signaling the games have begun. You're quick to sprint for your youngest sister, your first goal being getting her away. As you reach her you look back toward the cornucopia, blood already sprayed across the side of the glistening metal and bodies on the ground. Exactly the way it was last time.

"We have to get you out of here. We have to go south, we have to-" You're cut off by her freezing, stumbling back, and falling into the grass.

You call for her in a panic, looking back over your shoulder. You have nothing. There's nothing you can do to help as she chokes on blood from the knife now embedded in her chest.

It was you. You're standing there, a sick smile on your face with dropped shoulders- you had thrown it. Just how Rafe had taught you.

You wake up to the sound of your own screaming, sitting up quickly and kicking off your blanket. Your hair is stuck to your forehead as you scramble to place your surroundings. It wasn't real. It felt so real.

"Y/N?" You look up to the door in a panic as Rafe pushes the door open, brows furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"

His presence starts to calm you almost instantly. "Yeah, just a dream." You say breathlessly. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

"I couldn't sleep anyway." He insists, stepping in and closing the door. "Can I stay?"

You just nod, sliding over to make room for him.

Rafe pads across the floor, climbing in bed next to you and laying down, getting comfortable as you lay facing each other. Your heart is still racing. You still see your sister suffering at your own hand.

Without saying a word, Rafe reaches up, hesitating for a moment before brushing your hair back from your forehead. "I get nightmares too." He whispers, settling his hand on your cheek, gently brushing over your skin with his thumb.

"I'm sorry." You whisper back, eyes still open as you try and look at him in the dark.

He knows you're not apologizing as if it's your fault, more so saying you wish that neither of you were plagued with the memories of what you had been through. "Me too." He whispers, finally closing his eyes. Maybe now, with you here, he'll feel safe enough to get a full night of sleep without being interrupted by the screams of the kids that he killed.

You wake up with another jolt when the door flies open, slamming against the wall. "Oh, thank god. Rafe! What are you doing in here? Get up, hurry. We've spent far too much time searching the train for you." You blink a few times, rubbing your eyes as you process the harsh awakening by his escort, Zara.

"I'm up..." Rafe grumbles from beside you, taking a deep breath in with his head pressed against your back and an arm over your waist.

"God, you scared me. Now come on, we're already late." She says, standing and holding the door, waiting for him to get moving.

He sighs in response, and you feel a rush of cold air as he leaves you, stretching as he gets up and follows Zara out of the room. The train has stopped moving, you notice this quickly as you get up yourself. It's safe to assume Opal is waiting for you as well.

Walking out onto the stage of District Twelve is humbling, to say the very least. They are among the poorest of Panem's districts, even District Five seems like the Capitol compared to this. The pedestals in front of us display images of the four tributes behind where their families stand. It is all too real as you stand there in front of a large crowd in yet another uncomfortable dress.

Rafe holds your hand as you walk out, scanning over the crowd too. Even his already fake smile begins to fade at the sight and he looks pale. He's clutching your speech cards in his other hand, and you clock how it's slightly shaking from nerves as you are directed to begin speaking and he raises the cards.

"We are united as Panem is united. Our love has opened our eyes to the greatness of our country." You can tell in his voice he's trying to maintain his charismatic charm, but it's failing him. He can't tear his eyes away from the tributes' families, recognizing the faces on the screens behind them. One of the girls stands out, and he shakes away her voice in his head begging him to spare her life with her leg caught in the trap he asked you to set. He adjusts his focus to the mountains in the distance before he continues. "Love illuminates the truth-"

"You're standing where Katniss and Peeta should be!" He's interrupted by someone shouting from the crowd. It's easy to pick out the voice in the sea of people. A boy, a few years older than you with dark hair and a strong build. He's worked his whole life, no doubt. There's a blonde girl next to him- Prim. Katniss's sister, who she had volunteered for last year.

Rafe is frozen, staring at them for a moment before looking back to Zara, who gestures for him to continue. He's squeezing your hand now, tighter. "That's her sister." You whisper to him before he gets the chance to speak again. "May I?"

He looks down at you, silently asking if you're sure. Secretly, Rafe is relieved. You nod to him again and he hands you the cards. You don't need them, so you place them down on the pedestal in front of you.

"I understand the tremendous loss your community has faced at the hands of these games. And I am sorry." Rafe taps your arm, watching you now as you speak. You look up at him briefly and he nods to you. "We are sorry." You correct, reading from him that that is what he wanted.

"We can't fix the past, but I can tell you that without Spruce, Fletcher, Trilly, and Cerise we wouldn't be standing here today. We are forever in debt to them, and to you, for something that we didn't want to take in the first place." You pause, clearing your throat as you feel a tightness in your chest. "I never knew Katniss or Peeta, but watching them at home inspired me, and remember wondering when I watched Katniss volunteer for little Prim if I would do the same for my sisters, and as much as I love them I realized that I don't know if I ever could. And then, at the end, when she and Peeta both chose to die rather than live without each other, rather than pumping out another victor from the games- I was in awe. Of their bravery, and of their sacrifice. I thought I could never do that. They were braver than me."

You stare around the silent crowd, aiming to memorize every face. "Then I met Rafe, and I finally understood them. We would have done the same, but we were given a greater opportunity. I don't know why it was us and not them, and what we did to deserve our lives again, but I am truly sorry that it wasn't them." You spit out, choking over every word.

"It's because he's one of them!" The same boy shouts, pointing at Rafe and you notice peacekeepers shoving their way through the crowd toward him.

Rafe swallows the lump in his throat, keeping a straight face as he looks out at the boy.

"We are sorry that you lost loved ones." You say again, looking up at him briefly.

Before you can continue, Rafe is moving you aside to speak again. "I will donate half of my winnings to the families of our fallen tributes, as well as the families of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. It is the very least I can do, and I know that it won't bring them back, but I am sorry."

Rafe sees the peacekeepers quickly approaching and he wraps one arm around you, holding the other out towards them. "Hey, hey! Don't touch her, we'll go." He says, letting the peacekeepers guide you back off of the stage and out of view as chaos breaks out in the crowd.

"Y/N Y/L/N are you crazy?" Opal is there quickly, looking like she is ready to smack you if she didn't know better.

"What? What did I do?" You ask, panic evident in your voice as you hear shots firing outside.

"She just said what she thought they wanted to hear." Rafe defends you, but even he knows you messed up. In the eyes of the President, anyways.

"Yes, but that is the exact opposite of what Snow wants to hear! And you! Offering them his money? Did you think that was smart?"

"I- I don't know, I didn't know what to do and lord knows I don't need it! They can have it all for all I care." Rafe sighs, shaking his head dismissively.

"Rafe! You were given explicit instructions to keep the peace! Your father is going to be furious, you realize that right?" Zara intervenes.

"Instructions to what, sell this 'against all odds love story'? They want us together so they can brainwash Panem into thinking that privileged districts and the stupid Capitol can get along with the others, and that we're all a big happy family, but its all bullshit. I don't want to be a part of that and I never asked to be." Rafe shouts at her, and Opal gasps as you look away.

"I'll- uhm, yeah. Right. Opal, can you come with me back to the train? I want to leave." You mumble.

She glares at Rafe as she places a hand on your back, leading you toward the exit with peacekeepers following to escort you out of the building.

Heartbreak wasn't exactly on your bingo card for the first day of the victory tour. At least you got your answers, though. Rafe wants nothing to do with you, and now you can go about the rest of your life being forced to pretend you're in love. Great.

The tour continues as scheduled. Every day, occasionally with a day of travel time in between, you find yourself standing on a stage, a smile glued to your face, reading from a script with your hand wrapped around one belonging to a boy who couldn't care less about you. It's torturous.

The day finally comes, after cycling painfully through all the other districts that you make it to the first of two big parties, you're finally home.

"Y/N, Honey, welcome home." Your mom greets you at the door with a hug.

"I missed you." You mumble, pulling her into a hug. She shuts the door behind you as you step away, looking outside for just a moment.

"Where's Rafe?"

"He's staying down the road." You mumble, avoiding eye contact with her and stalking up to your room.

You feel guilty about being grateful for the many empty houses in the victor's village, allowing him his own place to stay instead of staying with you.

You have a few hours of peace before Opal will come with your stylist to prep you and your family for the party and address that's happening tonight, and the one thing on your agenda before then is a good, long nap.

A good, long nap, however, was not something on your sister's agenda, and it was only a matter of minutes before she was barging into your room.

"Y/N! How come Rafe isn't here?" She asks aptly, throwing herself onto your bed next to you.

"He's busy." You grumble, pulling the blankets tighter around yourself.

"Oh, like you? So busy right now you can't say hi to your favourite sister?"

"You're not my favourite."

"Rude." She makes herself at home in your bed, curling up next to you. For the first three months you were home, she didn't leave your side. She had slept in your bed every night, uncomfortable both with the move and her new room away from the one you had previously shared, and also with the idea of losing you again. "Did you kiss him?" She giggles once she's settled in, whispering despite the first time you kissed Rafe being broadcast on national television for the whole country to see.

"No." You whisper back, feeling tears prick at your eyes. "He hates me."

"What? How? I need more details than that, I'm sure he doesn't hate you."

"It was all fake. To get people to like us, to make us win and now to keep Snow from coming after our families." You say quietly, finding it difficult to admit your naivety to even yourself. "He never meant any of it."

Your sister is shocked, jaw slack with your explanation. She's only sixteen, but you can see the gears turning in her head. She loves a romance book, and growing up in a house where your parent's hands were rarely disconnected has built her into somewhat of a relationship expert. Or so she thinks, at least. "No. No, that's not true."

"It is, he said it."

"Exactly like that? What were his exact words?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"I don't remember."

"You're lying. There's not a thing anyone has ever said to you that you've forgotten." She insists. "But, fine, I guess it doesn't matter because I know it's not true. I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not watching. He's so in love with you it's absurd. Trust me."

You sigh, pulling the blanket away from your face to look up at her. "Don't say that."

"Why? I'm right."

You sniffle, wiping your eyes on the sheet before explaining. "He said we're being forced together to prove something to the public, and he never wanted to be a part of that."

"I knew you were lying." Your sister smiles, pushing your hair back from your face. "But that means nothing. Less than nothing! I wasn't there, but he probably meant that he doesn't want to be together just to be a public spectacle, or to push some agenda that's not his own. That says nothing about how he truly feels about you."

"I don't know..." You reply, skeptical of her thought process. "You should have seen him. He was so angry-"

"At you?"

"Well, no-"

"Then it wasn't about you." She assures you, tucking herself into the blanket. "We'll have a nap, and then you'll talk to him tonight."

"I don't think that's a good idea." You protest.

"It is. Now shh, I'm napping." She hums, eyes already closed as she drapes her arm over your side.

The exhaustion took over and you did end up falling asleep, your sisters breath on your face calming you enough to get some well-needed rest.

You're woken up abruptly, thrown into a show dress that is at least comfortable enough to breathe in, and after being smothered in makeup and hair fried, you're pushed out of the door and into a car.

This address will be hard. You know Jack's family, and to see them standing on the pedestal across from you, behind the crowd, leaves you sick just at the thought of it. Maisie's as well, though you were far from responsible for her death. Again, the idea of why it was you and not them crosses your mind. At this point, you doubt it will ever stop.

Standing backstage, waiting for your queue, Rafe approaches you hesitantly. He knows you're angry, but over the last couple of weeks, you haven't given him a moment to explain. He wishes he could just explain.

"Do you want me to take the lead on this one?" He asks, adjusting the collar of his shirt as he takes his spot next to you, suit tailored to match your dress.

"No. I've got it." You reply coldly, eyes locked on the door ahead of you.

Rafe sighs, reaching out to grab your hand, as was your routine now. You can hear the introductions on stage ahead of you, the audience quieting down. At least this time, the district is mostly celebrating a local win, rather than mourning the senseless deaths of four of their children. This time, it's only three.

You take his hand, building up the energy to smile. You're happy, and you're happy together. Convincing your home district will be harder because, for the rest of your life, you have to keep up this show.

"Can we talk later?" Rafe whispered, leaning down and your skin tingled with the contact of his breath.

"Okay." You say, tone hardly audible as the doors open for you. Let the show begin.

You both smile and wave your way onto the stage, for the first time being met with cheers rather than blank stares. It's refreshing until you see Jack's parents adorning their little stage at the back. You wish they looked angrier, like they believed you were responsible. For some reason, you feel like they don't.

You don't realize people are waiting for you to speak until Rafe does for you, once again ignoring the queue cards.

"District Five, thank you for welcoming me into your community. I have never been here before, but when I say it is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, I mean it." He smiles, clearing his throat while the people clap. "I also want to say thank you, because without the sacrifice of your people, I wouldn't be standing here today. That means the world to me, more than I can ever express."

You chew on your lip, scanning across the back and finally seeing your own family. Their presence brings you a comfort you didn't know you needed so badly. "And to Y/N's family, thank you, truly, for raising your daughter into the incredible girl that she is. Without her, there is no chance I could have survived. She saved me. I can never repay you for what you have given me." You watch as your dad pulls your mom close with an arm around her shoulder, hugging her. She looks like she's going to cry, your dad does too.

You try not to laugh as your sister stands with her arms crossed, shaking her head at you, a smug smile on her face. "I told you." You read her lips, and you shake your head back at her.

"Okay, okay, thank you, Rafe." You chuckle, taking the mic from him. "I would just like to say, I am so lucky to be back, and thank you to all of you for being such amazing, supportive people my whole life. It takes a village, they say, and I know I was enough of handful for the whole village to be sick of." You shrug, pulling some laughs from the audience. "I also want to say, to Maisie, Jack, and Caylen's families, I am truly sorry for your loss, but they fought hard. I hope you are proud of who they were. And Mr and Mrs Kyle, I hope you know I never wanted to hurt Jack. I'm so sorry I ever did." You finish, taking a step back to signal that you were done.

Rafe drops your hand to gently rub your back as your eyes are once again trained on his parents. They're crying, of course, as are you, but as his mom nods at you, you feel an incredible weight lifted off your shoulders. One death you felt so personally responsible for, and their family was kind enough to forgive you. Rafe hasn't been so lucky, you've seen it first hand. As you guessed, he is sick about it. Somehow, seeing Jack's family offer you that moment of forgiveness makes him feel better, too, knowing that you won't be suffering the way he is forever.

"Remember, this is your day. Everyone is here to celebrate you, dear." Opal reminds you, gently smoothing the front of your dress back at your home, getting changed for the party. "I am so proud of you."

You smile, for some reason finding yourself fighting off tears. "Thank you, for everything. I know I wasn't always pleasant to be around."

"No one expected you to be." She assures you, planting a kiss on your cheek. "My beautiful victor..."

You look up as there's a knock on the door to your room. "Rafe is here, can we let him in?" One of your stylists assistants says through the wood and Opal answers before you get the chance.

"Yes, let him in." You give her a look and she chuckles, placing her hands on your shoulders. "He's been dying to talk to you, dear. We'll give you a few minutes, and we'll be right outside."

You sigh, nodding as the door gets pushed open. "Rafe! Dear, you look so handsome." Opal smiles at him, patting his shoulder as her and your stylist shuffle out, letting Rafe in and closing the door behind themselves.

Of course, you would be matching his outfit. By now you anticipated it, but Rafe's suits never failed to impress you. It was almost entirely white, with gold cuffs and collars, and somehow, the shoes were a gold leather as well. All matched perfectly to the accents on your dress, and you wonder if his suit alone cost more than the house you grew up in. It's likely.

"You look beautiful." He breaks the silence, smiling at you nervously.

"Thanks.. You too. Handsome. I mean, white suits you."

He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've missed you." He says, looking at you intensely to gauge your reaction. "Look, if... I did something I'm sorry. I was hoping we could talk, I want to fix things."

"If you did something." You scoff, nodding. You can't help but laugh a little bit.

"Okay, I did something. That's obvious, then. Okay." Rafe says, wracking his brain to figure out exactly where he went wrong. He has a good idea, because you ghosted him immediately after his fight with Zara and Opal in Twelve, but they had both forgiven him, understanding that he wasn't upset with them personally. "How do I fix it?"

"Oh, you want to fix it? That's rich. Truly."

"Y/N, I don't understand. You have to level with me, please." He begs, brow furrowed with upset now.

"You wouldn't want the Capitol to think we're fighting, right? You had a change of heart?" You ask rhetorically, grabbing a drink from the cart they moved into your room.

"Please, just spell it out for me. I can't go on like this, I almost lost you once. I'm not doing it again."

You sigh, the desperation in his voice forcing you to be more empathetic. "Okay, Rafe. Fine. You told them that you wanted nothing to do with this relationship. Right in front of me. I don't understand why you couldn't grasp that that hurt me, but if it wasn't clear, I really care about you."

Rafe looks down, staring at the carpet as he listens, nodding as he connects the dots. "Oh- oh! Oh, no, I didn't mean that. You have to know I didn't mean that, Y/N, come on!"

"Then why would you say it?" Your tears are threatening to return now as your voice shakes.

"Okay, I mean, I meant it, but that has nothing to do with you."

"Nothing to do with me? It has everything to do with me!"

"No, it doesn't." Rafe insists, stepping closer to you now. You can't bring yourself to back away. You've missed having him close. "I meant I don't want to be with you just so they can have a new front page couple. I meant I want to be with you because I want to be with you. Because I love you, not because they want me to love you."

You freeze, thinking over what he said. His I love you echoing in your mind like you're standing in a wind tunnel. "I... What?"

"Y/N," Rafe chuckles, reaching up now and holding your face in his large hands. "You are the smartest person I have ever met in my life, but sometimes, you are so dumb."

You can't help but giggle at that, shaking your head slightly. Rafe looks at you like you're holding his world in your hands. "Do you mean it?" You ask after a few moments.

"I've never meant anything more." You can feel his breath on your skin for the second time in one day, and you don't think you can go without it for another. You're sure your heart stops beating for a moment as he thumbs over your bottom lip, and just as you're sure you could throw up from how pretty he looks up close, you're pulling on the front of his jacket to close the gap between you.

It works, beautifully, and despite your confidence in the moment, he's very gentle. You've kissed before, sure, but you were both pumped so full of adrenaline that you couldn't stop laughing long enough to enjoy it- and that's looking past the fact that he was likely moments from death; thank god for the anti-venom the peacekeepers brought on board.

You hold tight onto his jacket, likely to keep your knees from buckling under you as his lips pass over yours, over and over again. "I love you too." You mumble into his skin, and you can feel him smiling against you.

"Kids? It's awfully quiet in there! Not to interrupt but we are on a deadline here!" Opal calls through the door, knocking on it gently with a gloved hand.

At the intrusion you practically jump apart, sighing a breath of relief when she doesn't open the door. "Okay, coming! Just one second." You reply, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice as you gather your things.

You don't know why you're desperate to avoid suspicion, but you're pulling the door open before either of you say anything else to each other. You both know you're okay, and that's what matters.

"Oh! Good, you're ready to go? Let's get moving." Opal nods at you as you pass her, cheeks burning. "Oh my, absolutely not!" She gasps, and you turn to see as Rafe walks out and she's producing a small linen from her bag and wiping off his mouth for him.

"I can do it..." Rafe mumbles, grabbing it from her to remove the rest of your lipstick from around his mouth as you both feel your faces turning red.

Unfortunately, you were only allowed time for one night at home before you moved on to the last uncovered district in your tour, District One.

"Are you excited to be home?" You ask Rafe, once again curled up in the back train car looking at the view. You've got a blanket draped over both of you, your legs falling over his lap.

"I really liked your brother. He's cool." Rafe dodges the question tactfully, and it's not lost on you that he doesn't want to talk about his home. "And your sister was hilarious."

"Yeah," You scoff, shaking your head. "I don't know who gave her Posca, but they shouldn't have. She was drunk out of her mind."

"Isn't she fifteen?"

"Sixteen actually, her birthday was last month." You laugh, dropping your head back onto the armrest behind you. "Be honest though, if you were given that opportunity at sixteen wouldn't you take it?"

Rafe shrugs, running his hand up and down your thigh. "Probably not, my dad would throw a tantrum."

"Is he strict?"

"Extremely."

"Oh. Still? I mean, one, you're eighteen- you're not a kid anymore, and two, shouldn't he just be happy you're alive? Even if that means you're drinking underage?"

"You would think." Rafe sighs, patting your leg gently. "Our reputation is his number one priority. Not his kids."

"I see." You nod softly. "That must be hard for you."

"Well, it's all I've ever known. So it's not that bad. I just worry about my sisters."

"I would too." You agree. "But, they have you. That makes all the difference."

"I try to. He wants them to volunteer, though. The only thing better for his business than one kid in the games is two, and the entertainment factor in that is valuable." Without any cameras around to record your every move, for one of the first times ever, Rafe can speak more candidly to you about it. And it is such a relief.

"That is just... so unfathomable to me." You reply. "Not to disrespect him, or anything, I mean all the respect for who he is and what he does, but I just can't imagine why he wouldn't prioritize your lives more. Especially after your mom..." You trail off here, realizing that's a door only he should open. You had seen a profile of him on the news, as a matter of fact your whole family sat down to watch it together after you got home. You don't know details of what happened, but they mentioned that she passed when he was ten. It broke your heart.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to..." You try and correct yourself, feeling him tense up under you as he stares out the window across from you.

"It's okay." Rafe insists, relaxing himself again to continue tracing patterns on your leg. "You're right. It is kind of backwards. I never got that before, but after going through what we did... I wouldn't ever want my sisters to get pushed through the same turnstile. You know?"

"Of course." You nod softly, grabbing his hand off your leg and holding it.

"Anyway, my mom never wanted us to volunteer. She stood out that way, people looked down on her because of it. Then she got sick and... yeah." Rafe continues and you squeeze his hand.

"I'm sorry, truly." You say, tone gentle.

"It happens." Rafe shrugs. "I admit, I was disappointed when Sarah didn't get picked with me. Especially with the team aspect, and I'm surprised that she didn't, but now I'm so glad she wasn't. Not to say she wouldn't have been a strong competitor. If she gets picked next year I guarantee she will win, actually." He says, smiling fondly with a shake of his head. "I've tried talking her out of volunteering, but she hasn't budged. She wants to please Ward, and I get that. I just hope she has the strength that I didn't."

"That's hard. I mean, at least I don't have to convince my sisters not to volunteer. They wouldn't do it if we begged them to, not that we ever would. Obviously." You chuckle, and Rafe does too. "Maybe... Would you mind if I talked to her? I have a way with little sisters."

"By all means." Rafe nods. "Good luck, though."

"I have a question." You say, after a moment of silence between the two of you, the train rattling over the tracks below you with an almost unsettling smoothness.

"Shoot."

"Since so many people volunteer, doesn't that take away the purpose of volunteering? Do they put all the volunteers into a bowl and draw names anyway? How do they pick?"

Rafe laughs, dropping your hand to reach out and ruffle your hair. "You will see."

It isn't long before you start pulling into One. It looks like a mini Capitol, but with more mansions and less giant buildings, it was extravagant nonetheless. Your face was practically glued to the window the whole drive in, as Rafe pointed out who lived where, and any landmarks you passed. It was fascinating, and you wished you were on speaking terms when you arrived in Five. There would have been lots to share.

You can't help but note that his family wasn't there to greet the train, at least you don't think they were- there was a crowd of strangers there waiting excitedly, along with more security to escort you and your teams away from the station.

Everyone there seemed to be a fan, particularly of Rafe's, and this was a comforting change of pace.

Rafe watches you with a fond smile as you stop, crouching down to talk to a little girl who wiggled past security and pulled on the bottom of your dress.

"This is for you, Miss Y/N." She says, so quietly you can hardly hear her over the sound of shuttering cameras and shouting in your direction.

You take the small flower from her and smell it. "It's beautiful, thank you, hun." You smile, taking it and tucking it behind your ear. "What's your name?"

"Clara."

"Clara, that's such a lovely name. Thank you for coming to say hi."

"Can I give you a hug?"

You nod, opening your arms to the little girl who practically falls into your lap, hugging you right around your neck. "When I grow up I'm going to be just like you. I'm gonna win." She says as you let her go, and your heart drops in your stomach.

Your smile falters and you nod at her a little. "Stay safe, okay?" You settle on, gently pushing her hair out of her eyes and standing up as Rafe places his hand on your shoulder, signalling it was really time to go.

You ease the girl back to her waiting parents, before standing upright and joining Rafe, waving to people as you follow him to the car, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling you're left with after that interaction.

The speech in District One was easier, similar to District Two, where people seemed happy to see you- more careless of the lives of young people they had lost. To them, it was an honour to go, even if you never returned home. That's where you first laid eyes on Rafe's sisters, and you could see immediately the difference he was telling you about.

Sarah looked much more like him, and Wheezie like their father, you could only guess that their mother had the dirty blonde hair and blue eyes she passed onto her oldest children.

At the party, it wasn't long before you saw her again, despite the large property and the sea of guests. Pretty much the moment you walked in, Ward was on the two of you with the girls in tow.

"Y/N! It is so good to meet you." He smiles, reaching out to shake your hand which you quickly oblige.

"You as well, Mr. Cameron."

"Please, call me Ward. All my friends do." He grins, nodding to the two girls with him. "These are my daughters, Sarah and Louise."

You try and introduce yourself, but you hardly get past a smile before he's ushering the group of you along. "There are loads of people who have been looking forward to meeting you. Come with me."

You just smile and nod, Rafe staring blankly at his dad as he leads the way.

You meet lots of people, and despite your average height you feel like they're looking down on you. No doubt you're seen as somewhat of a freeloader- carried through the games by Rafe's strength and training, but despite this, Ward introduces you to every last person as Rafe's girlfriend. Not that you mind, you had to assume that's what you were. He didn't seem bothered by it, so neither would you.

"I'm off to grab a drink, care to join?" Sarah offers, linking her arm with yours after what must have been the twenty-fifth new person in the last hour.

"I'd like that." You agree, giving a slight wave to Rafe who nods in approval before you're gone.

"It's a lot. I'm sorry." Sarah says, smile on her face as she guides you through the crowd.

"No, it's nice. I like meeting new people."

"No you don't." Sarah cuts you off, and you can tell it's not with bitter intentions.

"Not really, no." You cave and agree, laughing quietly.

"Rafe told me that. He said you didn't talk the first few days he knew you."

"That's not true." You laugh, correcting her quickly. "Not entirely. I was in shock, I guess."

Sarah shrugs, dropping your arm as you reach the bar. Before either of you say anything the bartender, an avox clad in the standard red uniform, places two drinks in front of you.

"Thank you." You smile, lifting the glass. They just nod and quickly move on as Sarah grabs her drink as well.

You sneak off into a somewhat quiet corner, where you can sit and talk without too many people overhearing. "Rafe speaks very highly of you, I was looking forward to meeting you." You offer as you both sit down at an empty couch.

"Now that," Sarah laughs, coughing slightly on her drink. "Is a shock."

"What?" You laugh. "No way, he loves you."

"No." Sarah shakes her head, gesturing across the room to where she's spotted her family. "He loves Wheezie. I'm just around."

You look over to where she pointed, seeing Rafe standing with his sister as they discreetly jab each other in the side while Ward is talking to yet another "important" friend. Rafe is trying to hide his smile, keep it professional, but he's cracking.

"He loves you too. Just as much." You insist. "Are you open to my theory?" You ask, looking at her as she returns her gaze to you, raising a questioning brow.

"Please." She tilts her glass toward you, urging you to continue.

"I think you guys are a lot alike. And that scares him because he doesn't want you to be like him." You say confidently, polishing off the statement with a sip of the champagne in your hand.

"That..." Sarah takes a drink before continuing. "Is not an entirely bad theory."

"Are you going to volunteer?" You ask, deciding to get right to it. Sarah doesn't seem like the type to dance around what she wants to say, she's confident in every statement she makes. She truly does remind you of Rafe when you first met him.

"Did Rafe ask you to talk me out of it?"

"No. I offered." You reply honestly. "But really I'm just curious. He does tend to be kind of biased these days."

"I see." Sarah nods, thinking on it for a moment. "Tell him I haven't decided yet."

"I have two sisters, both your age and Wheezie's, but I also have an older brother. I see myself in both of you." You explain. "I think you should do what feels right to you. Not to Rafe and me, or to Ward, or to anyone, really. But if you did ask me, I would tell you I would volunteer again somehow if it meant sparing my sisters. I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

Sarah listens to you intently. Whether her reaction shows it or not, you can tell she's really thinking about it. That's all you could ask for. "All the fame and the money it could bring your family isn't worth Wheezie's life, so why would it be worth yours?" You add.

"Would you give it up now if it meant you would have never met my brother?" She follows up with a simple question, but it stumps you.

"I don't know." You answer honestly, watching him again across the room. "But he was the only good thing to come out of it."

The air is warm in the Capitol, and you're not sure whether to attribute that to the humidity of polluted and stuffed air, or the several fire features decorating the President's property lawn where you're attending yet another party in your honour. It feels far from welcoming.

You can't bring yourself to drink, despite how tempting it is to drown out the evening in bottles of whatever alcohol they're handing out on seemingly endless trays of crystal glasses. 

You're clinging to Rafe's arm, accepting compliments from people who look like they've never known any kind of trauma in their lives. The way the Capitol elite feel entitled to every detail of your life makes you nauseous.

"Thank you everyone for coming." The President's voice is booming suddenly over speakers you can't see, and everyone's attention is drawn to where he's standing on the balcony overlooking the property. "It is my honour to host our most recent victors here with us tonight, Rafe Cameron and Y/N Y/L/N!" He stops to allow applause as you smile awkwardly and nod to those around you, waiting anxiously for him to continue. You just want to get this over with. 

"Your love story has been an inspiration to us all, and I'd like to raise a toast to your success and to your happiness." People around you congratulate you, and you lean your head onto Rafe's shoulder, squeezing his arm.

"President Snow would like to see you both in his office." A peacekeeper says, appearing out of nowhere and gently escorting you into the building.

"What do you think this is about?" You whisper as you reach a blocked-off hallway.

"I don't know." Rafe mumbles back. He has a good idea though, to him toast sounded more like a threat than a celebration. "Just... let me handle it. Okay?"

You just nod, stopping behind the peacekeeper at a big wooden door. He nods, gesturing that you enter.

"Have a seat." Snow offers, and Rafe pulls out your chair for you, deciding that he would stand. "Thank you for coming."

"We were in the area." Rafe replies impatiently. "What can we do for you?"

"I wanted to discuss our agreement one more time, since clearly, the two of you were left a little confused." Snow says, resting his hands on the desk that sits between you. 

"The money was a show of good faith." Rafe replies, resting his hand on your shoulder. 

"To you, maybe, but to them, it is a sign that you are on their side." The President corrects. "You are not one of them. Not anymore. If they believe that you are, that they have people with power on their side, the uprisings will continue and the death toll will be catastrophic. I have a feeling that both Districts One and Five will not recover."

You bite your tongue, keeping your eyes locked on the rose sitting in front of you on the desk. "I think there is no use in giving the people of Panem false hope, because you do not have the power you think you do. You are not invincible. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." You nod softly, anxious to leave.

"Go enjoy the party. After all, it's all for you." Snow dismisses you, and neither of you are in a position to argue.

Leaving the Capitol again was a relief, especially with the promise that a train would be made available to either of you as you wished to travel exclusively between your home Districts. Not that you would particularly want to travel anywhere else, anyway. 

Rafe had a preference for coming to visit you, despite your home being much smaller than his. And much more crowded, but he didn't mind. Having a home full of sounds felt much more welcoming to him, even if he was only there for a weekend here and there. He had sisters to look after as well.

In all those months, he came down twice a month, and you looked forward to it every time. Everything was so normal, besides the interviews you did every so often, just to show everyone how happy you were thanks to the "generosity" of the Capitol, and that's a story you're more than pleased to stick with if it means keeping your families safe.

"It isn't far, right? Because I'm too out of shape for a long hike." Rafe jokes, letting you pull him by the hand through a wooded area not far from your house.

"Oh please, you could do it in your sleep." You laugh, shaking your head. "But no, if you must spoil the surprise, it's not far."

Rafe follows you silently, smiling as he watches you beat your way through a slightly overgrown path. The image flickers in his mind of you in your windbreaker, hair tied back around itself to keep it away from your eyes as you run through the bushes in the arena.

"Here, look." You interrupt his thought process with a jolt, the sunlight blinding him as you push past a final branch and hold it out of his way. "Behold, the pride and joy of District Five." You smile, gesturing out over the cliffside.

"Oh, wow." 

"Isn't it pretty?" You ask, dropping his hand to walk closer to the edge overlooking the large dam. "All the electricity in all of Panem comes from here."

"I didn't expect it to be so... scenic." Rafe says, joining you closer to the edge as you sit down.

"Yeah, it's pretty." You agree, crossing your legs. "My dad worked in there for years, he just retired. My brother works there now."

"I can imagine." Rafe says, tearing his eyes away from the depth of the ravine in front of him to look at you. You look so at home here, he can tell by how you're hunched over so casually tossing pebbles off the cliff that must be a thousand feet deep. Even then, you're not scared. "Do you come here a lot?" 

"Is that a pickup line?" You giggle, leaning back on your palms as you look over at him.

"Well, no, but would it work?" He smirks, placing his hand over yours as he matches your position.

"Only because it's you." You laugh, shaking your head.

"That was the correct answer." Rafe chuckles, looking back down at the giant damn that's filtering water through, powering his family's mansion back home. He thinks of all the hours your dad put in, sometimes sixteen-hour days he recalls him sharing, that he was working in the power plant to keep the lights on at Rafe's kitchen table where he sat with his dad and his sisters rarely uttering a word. The same hours your brother is working now.

"How do you feel about this mentor thing?" You ask out of nowhere. "We start soon."

"I don't know. It'll be weird to be working against you." Rafe replies.

"Don't think of it like that. Besides, what was it you told me, that you have a whole team of them? You probably can just sit back and watch them work." You say, trying to raise his spirits a bit. "That gives us more time to visit."

"I feel like 'visit' is a strong word." Rafe laughs. "Hopefully it'll be more than that." He says, moving over to wrap his arm tightly around your waist, kissing your cheek.

"That would be nice." You agree with a sigh. "I don't know, I just don't know what kind of advice to give. What, find someone you trust? I think we just got lucky."

"You'll be the best mentor." Rafe insists. "I wish I had you."

"I wish we hadn't needed one. I don't want to see kids come through year after year and watch them die. I wish I could make it stop, it all seems so pointless."

"It's about control. They'll never give that up." Rafe shakes his head. "So don't think for a second it's your fault."

"I know... It's just so complicated."

"I'm glad it brought me to you, though." 

You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Hey!" You're startled by a voice behind you, both of you standing up quickly. "You have to come back." Your brother says, chest heaving from his exertion of running all the way up the hillside.

Rafe relaxes from where he placed himself in front of you at the sound, letting you step in front of him. "What happened?" You ask, seeing the look on his face.

"There's been an announcement." He answers, laboured breathing starting to return to normal. "About the games."

The two of you follow him in silence all the way back, anxiety in both of you spiking after your brother wouldn't answer any more questions. When you walk into the house, you're met with a paused TV, your parents on the couch, and your sister with tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes. "What happened?" You ask again, hoping to get some answers.

Rafe pulls you close to himself after shutting the front door, leading you into the living room. "Here, um, have a seat, kids." Your mom says, hardly audible as you sit down.

She wipes her eyes as your dad presses play on the television, and it's a rewound clip of the news. Rafe wraps a shaky arm around you on the couch as Caesar Flickerman starts speaking.

"We have a unique announcement today regarding the upcoming, highly anticipated, Seventy-Sixth annual Hunger Games." He starts, and you get tunnel vision as you stare at the screen. "This is a twist no one saw coming on the heels of last year's Quarter-Quell, but President Snow has decided there will be a permanent change in the rules. From now on, any victor remaining under the age of eighteen will once again be eligible for the reaping."

taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy, @dee127, @r1vrsefx, @gillybear17, @flonkertn, @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @thelomlisrafecameron

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve - Part 3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

Eddie hasn't moved from his spot on the Harrington's living room floor since El placed Steve back in his hands two hours ago except to switch his weight from side to side, depending on which buttcheek is currently numb. The mass exodus from the Byers-Hopper house to the Harringtons had taken less than 15 minutes and there has not been peace since, hence the remaining-on-the-floorness of it all for Eddie.

People stop by his stop in the living room to talk to Steve, looming over Eddie in their uncertainty. He stopped offering for people to take Steve after the third rejection because Eddie gets it; he's still the most chill about this (except Argyle, but Argyle is currently high, and Eddie is exceptionally sober and perhaps resenting that fact a bit) but he gets it. The situation is fucking freaky and maybe the thought of holding their transformed babysitter slash older brother figure slash hero might be a bit harrowing.

Of course, there's always an exception, so when Max lowers herself to the living room floor next to him, cane set down between them, and says, "Give him here." Eddie obeys, instructing her to hold her hands out so he can place Steve in them upright and facing her. Max's bones had healed alright, but she'd never get her vision back.

"Am I looking at his face?" She asks, gripping him around the waist with two hands like he's a messy hamburger.

Eddie can't actually tell from this angle if she's looking at his face but it's got to be close enough, so he says, "Yeah."

"Hey Steve," Max starts. "Everyone else is too much of a wuss to hold you but don't worry. They'll get over it. Not going to lie to you, though, this is pretty weird, but, like, mostly because I expected your body to be squishy, like a stuffed toy or those babydolls Holly drags around and forces us to take care of when we all hang out at the Wheeler's house. You know, the ones that are like soft with the plastic head, hands, and feet? That's what I expected." She runs one thumb up and down on his torso before tacking on, "ugh, this feels like a polo. Eddie, is he wearing a polo?"

"Yeah. I think he's in the outfit he was wearing when whatever happened happened. The polo was tucked into his jeans but Robin untucked it to check if there were scars on his lil' porcelain tummy."

"Are there?"

"Yeah. Painted on, Robin says. It's pretty accurate."

"Like, chest hair and all?"

"I... don't know? You'll have to ask Robin. She was the one holding him like two inches from her face."

Max's attention goes back to Steve. "I bet your tiny polo looks cute, simply because it's tiny. Only way a polo could be cute, Steve. I still can't believe you dress this way because you like it. And worse, I can't believe you actually pull off the look."

Eddie looks on, amused, as Max rambles from there. Which is an experience. Max isn't quiet by any means, but she's not a talk to fill the silence type, which is what this seems like. The topics are mundane, like how summer school is going, and about her plans to try and teach El how to skateboard using only verbal directions, and debating the pros and cons of trying to convince her mom to let her get a seeing-eye dog. Then, they make a turn Eddie didn't expect.

"I think I'm going to be mostly on babysitting duty instead of active research and rescue. You know, on account of the blindness and all. So, like, I hope you're going be okay just hanging out with me and listening to Kate Bush for hours."

He should not be feeling a twist in his gut of jealousy at the fact Max wants to take Porcelain Steve from him, and yet. "You gonna look after him, Max?"

She shrugs, turns her face towards Eddie, "I figured we'd all take turns babysitting. Might get boring for him otherwise. He'd drop everything to watch us, if this had happened to us. He has done that. We have to do the same for him. Plus, Steve likes to check in on us, don't you Steve? What better way than to give you, like, a day with everyone in rotation."

"Always the savior, never the saved, huh?" Eddie is trying to joke but Max's face twists into a frown and her arms lower for the first time, lower so Steve's little porcelain face stares up at the ceiling.

"No. Not always."

"Oh?"

"I saved him, once. From Billy. It was my fault he was even in danger," Max says, voice sad.

"I doubt it was your fault-"

"It was my brother trying to beat him to death," Max snaps and it shuts Eddie up quick. "And the only reason he was in the house, beating Steve to death, was because I couldn't follow the simple instruction of 'stay away from the window'. Steve could probably have gotten Billy to leave if I had. But I didn't listen, and Billy got in, and then he was threatening Lucas. He'd said 'you're dead, Sinclair' and then Steve had to be super lame but super cool at the same time by saying 'no, you are' and decking Billy in the face with, like, the full force of his body."

"That is a very lame thing to say."

"Right? Anyway, he was winning that fight until Billy cracked him over the head with a plate. Then it just went downhill so fast for Steve, and I was so sure I was about to watch my stepbrother murder someone. I-I don't even know what came over me, really. I'd never stood up to Billy before. I just knew I had to do something. There were these syringes filled with something that put you to sleep and I grabbed it and then I stabbed Billy with one and then threatening him with Steve's nailbat to never touch any of my friends again."

"Holy shit, Red. Metal as hell!"

She gives a small smile at that. "Well, the boys were basically useless so." She gives a shrug that suggests that sentence should have ended with what can you do?

"True. I've seen you girls in action. Scary and deadly."

Max looks down, then, back to Steve. "Alright, Steve. This is enough floor time for me. I'll yack your ears off later."

She holds Steve back out to Eddie, and he returns Steve to the place in his lap. She gathers her cane and pulls herself from the floor, calling out to see where El is, then presumably going off to find her.

"You really do have a tit-for-tat thing going on with these kids, don't ya?" Eddie chuckles, falling back into the quiet.

His mind does go back to Max and her story. Saving Steve from Billy. He's heard that story but never that part. Steve had given him a watered-down version that left out the fact Billy had threatened Lucas, and that Max had come to his rescue. He wonders if Steve even knows that part.

Had they told him? In Steve's version he's getting his ass beat, and then he's coming to in the back of Billy's car with Max at the wheel. It seems out of character for Steve to not take the time to brag about the kids.

Given the events of spring break of last year, and Max's complicated feelings towards Billy, maybe Steve does know the full story and it was left out intentionally. A thing left up to Max to tell or not, to have to relive. She's been better, doesn't bottle up the hard things anymore, even though it's not Eddie she talks to.

It's Steve.

Eddie feels a bit worse about his jealousy earlier. Of course, Max wants to spend time with Steve even if he can't talk back. He's been the stable male figure in her life for years, just like he's been for Dustin.

He looks up, really taking in the people around him. All the people that have gathered because they care about Steve. All the kids, their peers, Joyce, and Hopper, and some guy Eddie's never even heard of before named Murray.

Does Steve even know how much he means to everyone here?

He's going to ask Steve just that but Robin shouts from the dining area at the same time he opens his mouth, so he snaps his jaw shut and focuses in on that.

"Absolutely not! Those assholes dealt with StarCourt by burning it to the ground and that's it! What do you think they'll try and do to Steve!?" Robin's back is to Eddie, so he can't see her face, but he can see Nancy's, who she seems to be yelling at. Nancy looks determined.

"I'm not saying we go asking the shady government for help immediately! I just brought it up as an option for if we hit a dead end, or can't figure this out, or-" Nancy argues back, and Robin cuts her off.

"Shut up! We'll figure it out! We have before."

Nancy's face softens, looks sadder. "I know, Robin. I do. But how long do we try ourselves? How many days, weeks, months, do we just keep trying ourselves while Steve is stuck? We don't even have a starting point for fixing this, the least we can do is plan a time to ask for help."

"Nancy's right," Hopper says, even if he sounds upsetting about admitting it out loud. "We can trust Owens at least. He helped us."

"No, I'm with Freckles there. You cannot trust anyone in the government, Jim. How many times do you need to learn that lesson?" Murray says in a condescending tone (though Eddie hasn't heard any other tone from him, so maybe that's just his voice?).

Eddie finally stands from the floor. This feels like an argument he should join.

[monstersandmaw]

Male drider pirate captain x gn human (mild nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

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Surprise! A story out of the blue! Hope you like it.

Content: a human who faces daily discrimination for being one of the only humans in a relatively isolated society of non-humans, non-explicit/detailed mention of unwanted sexual/physical contact (it’s brief, but it’s in there - paragraph beginning ‘Still, they couldn’t be any worse than the naga...’), a reader who was orphaned at a young age, a dread pirate captain who’s actually a total softie, a motley crew of pirates who are also all secret sweethearts, and a tiefling friend who wants the best for you. And a briefly spicy ending. Enjoy? Wordcount: 8710

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For all its pretty beaches and steady flow of gold and goods, Cutthroat Cove was hardly the kind of place that people aspired to reach, and it wasn’t the kind of place people lingered once they washed up there, humans least of all.

To get off the island, you had to find a pirate ship willing to take you, and the price of passage was usually dearer than it first appeared. Most of the crews didn’t like humans aboard either, which was another odd stacked against you.

“To the Empress!” A shout went up from the furthest corner of the dingy tavern, and tankards were raised in a jeering chorus of howls and inhuman noises. You glanced up from where you’d been drying off the wooden mugs that Harrow had just finished washing, and you watched as the crew of the Blackbird, flush with fresh plunder, began a familiar toast. “May she continue shitting out shiny gold coins for us to keep plucking out of her fat little merchants’ hands!”

Their laughter filled the small, low-ceilinged common room and made your ears buzz. There must have been a siren among them, you thought distantly as you shook your head to clear it. No one else seemed affected, but a nearby patron — a triton leaning heavily on the wooden bar — leered toothily at you and flared the fins on the side of their head in a mocking sneer.

As you turned away to diffuse the situation, your elbow caught a bottle of rum on the edge of the counter. It teetered and would have smashed had Harrow not grabbed it with his prehensile tail and shunted it back to safety. He shot you a warning look and rolled his dark eyes affectionately. A creased dimple appeared in his cheek and the tiefling smirked a fanged smile at you before throwing a wet dishcloth in your face. “Watch it, clumsy,” he snorted playfully. “Honestly. What are you like?”

“Thanks,” you mumbled and tried not to watch too closely as his purple tail uncoiled slowly from the bottle. Perhaps it came from being raised on a mostly non-human pirate ship, or perhaps you’d just been made differently, but your fellow humans had never done much for you, and in fact, the less human someone looked, the more likely you were to find yourself tripping over your feet around them.

With another sigh, you turned to see to a goblin with blood red hair who had just leaned over the bar to yell an order at you above the clamour in the room, a gold ring glinting in her nose, when the door flew open and a small harpy boy flapped inside, with his feathers all ruffled and his chest heaving from a wild flight up the hill to the tavern.

“The Widow’s Web docked down on Rum Quay fifteen minutes ago!” the boy panted, wide eyed and sweaty faced. “And they’re coming ashore!”

For a moment, the entire, packed tavern went completely still. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Someone set down their tankard with a loud clunk but for a good ten seconds, that was the only sound in the whole room.

“The Widow’s Web?” someone finally hissed. “She never docks anywhere. What the fuck is she doing here?”

“Maybe they need to resupply?”

“They don’t resupply ashore,” someone else scoffed. “They just take what they need off the Imperial Navy and keep on sailing!”

“Maybe one of them is sick?”

“Or they’re looking for new crew?”

“I heard the captain wraps people up in his webs to eat later…” came a nearby, dark muttering.

“Or maybe —”

“— Maybe they just want a good drink for once, and find Her Imperial Majesty’s rations perennially disappointing,” came a deep, smooth voice from the open doorway behind the harpy boy.

The poor lad squeaked and puffed up in surprise, floundering out of the doorway in a twittering spray of mousy feathers and gangly, avian legs, and everyone stared at the figure who had melted from the darkness beyond to fill the doorway completely.

It was impossible not to stare. You’d seen driders before, but you’d never seen one like him.

He moved on seven dark legs that were armoured with a natural carapace like a crab, with pointed spikes at the joints that glinted in the low light, and the eighth was a prosthetic, replaced below the articulated ‘knee’ joint of his right front leg with a shining, steel limb that had been sharpened to a point to match his other limbs, and which clinked softly when he walked. He had to duck almost double to squeeze through the tavern door that had been built wide and tall enough for even a draft centaur to get through.

As he leaned down, his straight, white hair fell forwards around his face like a shroud, momentarily concealing his slate-grey skin that was tinged with purple. He had four eyes, all completely black, and dark mandibles at the corners of his mouth, and as he entered the tavern, he took off his cocked hat and hooked it casually over the upward turning spikes on his left foreleg.

His spider’s body was huge and pendulous and black, covered in a downy fur that shifted like moonlight and spread up his human back, vanishing out of sight beneath a heavy, black coat with silver buttons and emblazoned on the back with the silver web of his ship’s emblem, the Widow’s Web.

Someone dropped a glass in the silence of his arrival, and you startled a little at the sound. Beside you, you heard Harrow inhale slowly. “Holy shit,” he hissed, and his dark, cloven hooves made a soft clopping against the flagstones as he sidled up to you. He was shorter than you, and you glanced down to find him looking up at you with wide, worried eyes. “That’s… That’s him…”

“Capitan Steelsling…” you whispered. “I thought he and the Widow’s Web were just… a myth? You know?” you added, glancing between Harrow and the pirate captain.

Behind Steelsling, a truly colossal, silk-white bison minotaur dipped her horns beneath the lintel and surveyed the room. She had red eyes and a pink nose, and was almost as legendary as her captain, and together, they made their way towards an empty table near the bar.

“Good luck, mate!” Harrow elbowed you in the ribs and ducked away with a mumbled lie about checking the stock.

You could hardly hear anything through the fear that had started a pounding at the back of your skull. You were going to have to go over there.

Still, they couldn’t be any worse than the naga who’d grabbed you with their tail and coiled around you tightly enough to make your ribs creak last week, only releasing you when the laughter of their companions had faded and you’d nearly passed out. Or the gnoll who’d tripped you into her lap and laughed about you being a soft little human while her claws had picked through your shirt. Or the siren who’d made you take your top off and dance a jig on the table with their hypnotic voice, to the rabid amusement of a packed bar. You’d endured a thousand humiliations in your life at Cutthroat Cove, and you were certain that you could weather whatever this dread pirate could dream up for you too.

Squaring your shoulders, you set the damp cloth down on the bar, wiped your hands on your trousers, and strode across the room towards the newcomers, with the eyes of the entire tavern on you.

The captain watched you approach with an unnerving intensity in his four, jet black eyes, but his minotaur first mate seemed entirely bored and unimpressed by the entire establishment. You included. Clearly you posed no threat to her or her captain, so she ignored you for the time being.

You drew to a halt in front of their table and looked up into the captain’s inhuman face. He was sharply handsome, with the hard, cut-glass plains of his cheeks and jawline thrown into start relief in the low light of the bar, and the thick, black, curved talons at the ends of his mandibles glinted in the lamplight like pieces of obsidian.

He tilted his head in a manner that might have been either patronising or curious, you couldn’t quite tell, and blinked his black, almond-shaped eyes slowly. The two pairs moved slightly out of time with each other, the smaller, lower outer pair starting first, followed by the larger inner pair. Holding his gaze for long though was like trying to hold an oil slick in your hands.

“What can I get for you?” you asked, cursing the way your voice cracked a little.

Conversation began to pick up hesitantly around you, and in the far corner, someone got out a tin whistle and began to play a well-known and popular song. The captain smiled when he heard it, his mandibles chittering briefly, and he leaned over to his first mate and grinned, “Remember when Keel played this and Harrik fell overboard trying to impress him?”

She snorted suddenly, her wild, white mane of curls bouncing and her large, fluffy ears flicking back and forth. “How could I forget that?” she chortled. “He looked like a wet rat when we hauled him back on deck. Couldn’t look Keel in the eye for a week!”

You stood stock-still while they reminisced, wary and patient and silent.

The captain turned sharply back to you and twitched his head a little. “My apologies,” he purred. “We are still waiting for a few more of our crew, but I know what they’ll have to drink at any rate. Perhaps you could bring a couple of pitchers of your finest ale over, and six tankards?”

You nodded and paused just long enough to see if they were going to add anything else to their order.

The first mate leaned forwards towards you, resting an elbow on the thick tabletop. It groaned under her muscular weight. “What’s in the kitchen tonight?” she asked. Her voice was rough and deep, but her tone was gentle enough.

“Roast pork,” you said quickly. “And boiled vegetables.”

The captain nodded. “We’ll wait for the others to order food, I think. If that’s alright with you?”

You blinked. “What?” you said before you’d thought about it. “I mean, of course. I’ll be right back with the ale. Excuse me.”

And with that, you bolted back to the bar, sweaty and a little shaky. They hadn’t been at all what you’d been expecting, and they weren’t like the usual patrons of the Salted Kipper.

Harrow had emerged by the time you returned, and he shot you a look. “Well?” he asked.

“Well what?” you snapped, distracted.

“Well what’s he like? I heard from Maggie that Steelsling ripped a human’s head clean off their shoulders just for looking at him too long, and one time, he used that legendary ‘steel’ web of his to garrote the commander of Port Liberty, but the thread was so fine the man didn’t know it had happened til he was bleeding out on the marble floor. And his first mate is hardly any better. I heard —”

“You shouldn’t listen to what people say,” you said with a frown as you fished the enormous pitchers out of the cupboard under the bar and turned to fill one from the barrel on the wall behind you. “You know how much bullshit gets peddled through here in a single night — how much sailors love to exaggerate.” In truth, you didn’t want Steelsling to overhear Harrow’s words and think you were gossiping about him.

“Yeah, but… no smoke without a fire, right?”

You just shook your head and concentrated on filling the pitcher without creating too much of a foaming head on the ale.

With the two pitchers set on a wide, wooden tray, along with the six empty tankards, you set off for their table again. En route, someone with sharp claws grabbed a fistful of your arse and you had to step over the swaying, serrated tail of a lizardfolk at the table next to the drider captain’s. She cackled a laugh at you when you nearly spilled the pitchers because of it. One slid a terrifying couple of inches along the tray as it tipped, and you wobbled in a desperate attempt to stop it sliding all the way off.

You cursed as you staggered, completely off balance, but something solid caught you at the hip and buttressed you up. Cold relief sloshed through you as you saved the pitchers from toppling off to make an ungodly mess all over the floor, only to look up and find that the drider captain himself had jutted out one of his huge, armoured legs to steady you. It was the steel prosthetic of his right foreleg, you realised, and you could feel its coldness seeping through your clothes the longer you stayed pressed against it.

All the blood drained from your face and you felt your jaw go slack. “I’m so sorry,” you blurted, and you almost leapt away from the contact to set the tray down, hoping to disappear as quickly as possible.

“It’s no trouble,” he said in his oddly polite, lyrical voice. You’d expected something coarse and harsh from the legendary sea captain, but he was refined and softly-spoken. “Does that happen often?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Uh…” you swallowed, stepping back with the tray held in front of you a bit like a shield. “I mean… I’m pretty much the only human on the island now, so where else are they going to get their fun, you know?”

You’d said it with a false lightness to your voice, hoping to make him smile and say ‘fair enough’, but his expression darkened and his eyes glittered dangerously.

“It’s fine,” you babbled. “Really. It’s harmless. They’re just blowing off steam, you know?”

That also didn’t help.

He glared around the room and you got the vague impression that the people who had been staring, hoping for an impressed reaction from him, suddenly looked away in shame.

“Excuse me,” you said again, and fled.

The rest of his crew arrived not long after that, and they were an equally odd mix of people: another drider, though she was stocky and built like a tarantula, and her arms and torso were thickly muscled where Steelsling’s body was lean and wiry; a delicate cervitaur who looked about as unlikely to find a home on the sea as the Empress herself, with a white coat and white antlers and a dancing, graceful way of walking that wouldn’t have been out of place in a palace; a rugged, crab-like merfolk who was armoured to the nines in his own orange chitin and had pincers for hands and a sour look on his face as he squeezed his bulky carapace between the tables; a forest naga with a rainbow shimmer to her tail and dreads that fell to her waist; a tiny, waifish, hummingbird harpy whose iridescence matched the naga’s in vibrancy if not in hue; and finally… a human?

Yet again that evening, you tried not to stare, but it was so unusual to find a human among a crew of pirates in these parts that you weren’t the only one taken aback. People hissed and whispered behind their mugs, but no one tried anything with the other human in the room. They saved that for the one they knew was alone and largely unprotected.

As you worked the other tables that night, dodging wayward hands and sneaking trip hazards in a familiar dance, you caught glimpses of the way the crew of the Widow’s Web laughed and joked among themselves. They were clearly close as family, the realisation of which struck you to the core with something akin to genuine, physical pain. The other pirates who frequented the Salted Kipper were business partners and tight-knit groups, but there was always something festering away beneath the surface — some jealousy or scheming distrust — but the Widow’s Web crew touched each other frequently with a friendly nudge or a playful shove, and they laughed. They laughed until they cried and fell about on each other’s shoulders over something and nothing, and even Steelsling himself seemed amused. He kept a little back from the others though, as though he wasn’t quite a part of it, and he kept his four eyes roaming the room every so often too, as though keeping watch for trouble. Wherever he looked, people looked away, uncertain.

Frequently, his glinting gaze landed on you. When that happened, you ducked your head and busied yourself with another task, but you felt the weight of his four eyes on you as you crossed the room all the same.

If the scattered crumbs of gossip were to be believed, which they rarely were, that night was the first time in six years that the Widow’s Web had formally put to shore, and no one expected to see them again for another six at least.

And yet, a month later, the door opened and in strode the hulking form of the first mate, accompanied by her eight-legged captain and a few of their crew.

You served them ale, and he asked you how you were as you set the pitchers down. “Fine, thanks,” you mumbled, head down.

It seemed to irritate him that you were so deferential, and he sighed sharply.

“You?” you added, glancing up as you tacked the question on as an afterthought.

His mandibles twitched in what might have been an arachnid smile and his shoulders dropped a visible inch. “I’m well, thank you. We had a successful couple of encounters on the Whale Road Shore lately.”

“You went all the way to the Whale Road Shore?” you gasped, staring openly at him. “But that’s… that’s at least a two week sail from here, even with the winds in your favour? How did you make it there and back in so little time?” Distances, maps, and charts had always fascinated you, the way a caged bird dreams of open windows.

Across the table, the first mate chuckled, and with a jolt you remembered yourself, and your place, immediately.

“Forgive me,” you said quickly. “I didn’t mean to pry. Enjoy your evening.”

“Wait?” came Steelsling’s soft, rich baritone. He didn’t speak loudly or harshly, but the simple, politely uttered question stopped you in your tracks. “You weren’t prying, and I don't mind. We have a wind witch aboard. Makes things much easier and faster.”

“Oh,” you breathed. A wind witch? Was there no end to this crew’s mystery?

“They’ll be here any minute,” Steelsling said carefully, deliberately, pointedly. “If you want to meet them.”

“Oh, no… thank you,” you said, despite the way your heart ached to meet a real wind witch. It was a particular talent that only humans had, though other species had similar gifts with the weather. It might have been nice to talk to another human after so long. “No, that’s alright. I don’t want to intrude, and I… I should get back to work.”

The captain just nodded, but he didn’t speak to you directly again that night. The human on his crew — the wind witch — did show up a little while later, accompanied by the pretty cervitaur and the fiery-looking orange merfolk, and the crew lost themselves again in their food and drink and conversation. All but one of the crew, you realised after they’d been there an hour. The captain himself was sitting back, resting his humanoid upper body against the wall of the inn, his spider legs tucked up tightly around him, almost like a cage of spiked, black steel with one silver bar, and he had his arms crossed over his chest and a dark glower on his face. You tried not to look at him when you discovered him already watching you, and you traded a week’s worth of floor scrubbing with Harrow to avoid serving their table again.

Month after month, the crew of the Widow’s Web returned to the Salted Kipper, and month after month, the captain watched you.

He watched you dodge the other patrons, sloughing off their insults and jibes and clumsy, pawing attempts to get you into their lap, and each time, his expression grew darker and more severe. He stopped taking part in his table’s merriment, glowering in the corner like a monster from a fairytale while his crew carried on around him. Only his first mate would frown at him and try and get him to engage, but he never did for long. You started to think you’d insulted him by refusing the honour of a conversation with the wind witch, and he was concocting a truly venomous revenge for your rudeness.

Then, after six straight months of visits, they vanished.

No one saw the black and silver sails of the Widow’s Web for months, and gossip about them erupted.

Rumours circulated like gulls on the wind: they’d been sunk by the Empire; they’d been swallowed up by a kraken who’d been hunting Steelsling for years after taking his right leg off; there’d been a mutiny and they’d all killed each other in the process; they’d strayed off the edge of the world; they’d strayed off the edge of the world and then returned with some mysterious illness; the captain had eaten his crew one at a time while stranded in the doldrums… Each theory was more ridiculous than the next, but you came to miss the crew’s polite presence in the corner of the inn. The lowering eyes of the deadliest pirate in the known kingdoms had gone some way to lessening the way you were treated as a human among so many of what the Empire called the ‘monstrous species’ and the ‘beast folk’. Monstrosity was a relative thing, you’d found.

One morning, after preparing the inn for the day, you headed down alone to the harbour to stock up on supplies for the kitchen. The folk who ran the market were used to you, given that you’d been on the island since you’d washed up there at the age of eight, and they’d stopped trying to fleece you on each purchase you made for Silas, who ran the inn.

You’d just added a box of smoked salt into the groaning basket on your arm when a gasp went up from the nearby shoppers and you turned to see what had snagged their attention. The elegant and eerie prow of the Widow’s Web — a series of carved, black spiders crawling up a cylindrical spar — and the furled black sails of the legendary ship as it was towed into port drew the attention of everyone in the harbour-side market.

You’d never seen them outside of the inn, and you watched as the small, efficient crew scuttled around making last-minute preparations to the lines and the sails before docking, and there, leaning his weight casually against the taffrail with his white hair streaming out behind him like a banner, was Captain Steelsling himself. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him and you stared openly, drinking in the contrast between the curve of his dark spider’s body and the angular lines of his slim, armoured legs. They looked like they could puncture the hull of a warship like a harpoon, and his prosthetic caught the sun and flashed blindingly for an instant.

You watched in awe as he left the deck and scuttled up the rigging with enviable ease to talk briefly to the figure tucked away in the crows nest. That done, he fearlessly descended the rigging and joined the others on the main deck. Just as he turned to give an order to someone on his left though, he froze and you looked on with an odd mix of trepidation and delight as he noticed you.

For a long time, he stared at you. Then, finally, he inclined his head and went about the business of making port.

You had intended to be gone from the market by the time the lengthy process of bartering for better docking fees was over, but fate it seemed had other ideas. You were halfway through haggling with the knife-sharpener for a more reasonable price for her services when she looked up and she dropped the small paring knife she’d been using as a prop to try and frighten you into giving in and accepting her price.

“Captain Steelsling…” the skinny naga exclaimed, and then she hissed at you. “Get out of the way, you little bilge-rat. Don’t you know who this is? My apologies, Captain, my apologies. How can I help you?”

“I know who he is,” you said carefully, turning and smiling shyly at him. His dark mandibles hitched up on one side and he crossed his arms. His long, white hair was plaited back off his face in a series of intricate, interlaced designs, cascading down over his trademark black coat with its silver buttons, and he looked so dashing that your heart skipped a beat. His captain’s hat was nowhere to be seen and he carried no visible weapon, but the authority washing off him was enough to make people skirt around him with their eyes averted.

“Good to see you again, and in daylight this time,” he said, and the knife-sharpener sputtered something unintelligible behind you while he ignored her completely. “How are you?”

“Well, thank you,” you replied. “You’ve been gone a long time…”

A sad expression flickered across his face. “Yes,” he sighed, and his posture sagged. “A sad business, but it’s over now. I’m glad to be back. I’ve grown rather fond of a certain inn here in Cutthroat Cove after all.”

“You have?” you asked, astonished. “I thought you only came to the Kipper because your crew like it. You always look so miserable.”

The knife-sharpener gasped audibly at your bluntness and started to titter something about offering him whatever he wanted, free of charge.

“I didn’t come to talk to you, and I sharpen my own blades, thank you,” he snapped at her, and turned to look over his shoulder, away from the market square. “Will you walk with me? I have a hankering to stretch my legs after so long at sea.”

“Uh…” You would expected back at the inn soon, but there was little you could do if the king of pirates himself wanted a moment of your time. “Sure.”

He smiled again, and held out a hand. “Let me take that for you.”

Still a little stunned, you mutely handed the creaking basket to him. He took it like it weighed nothing at all and hooked it over his other arm so that it was in no danger of swinging and accidentally clocking you around the head. He was massive on his stilt-like legs, after all.

You walked in silence for a little way, along the waterfront towards the old Imperial fortress that had been taken over by the Raven Queen - the local pirate power in these waters. She, ultimately, deferred to Steelsling though, as most pirates did. And there you were, trotting along at his needle-like heels while everyone stared.

“Why would you think I’m miserable when I’m at the tavern?” he asked after a while.

“What? Oh… I didn't mean to offend you,” you said quickly. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed at that, and you got the feeling you’d said the wrong thing. Instead of pressing the issue though, he paused at a bend in the fortification walkway and looked directly at you. “Why do you stay here?” he asked.

You frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“If you’re so unhappy here — treated so poorly — why do you stay?”

You scoffed a little laugh and turned to look out at the bright blue sea.

A strong wind was whipping the peaks of the waves to foam and the gulls dipped and soared on the currents, buffeted this way and that and seeming to love every minute of it. Further out, near the cliffs off Needle Point, gannets speared straight down from the clear sky with barely a splash as they disappeared into the waves, chasing the fish that glittered and flashed beneath the surface.

Salt air filled your nose as you inhaled and you shook your head. “Don’t have much choice, I guess. I can’t afford passage on a ship — not at the prices they charge a human — and… I have nowhere else to go anyway.”

“No family?” he asked carefully.

You shook your head. “No. My parents were killed when the Albatross was captured.”

You caught the soft inhale of shock from the drider captain and turned to look up at him. His solid, black eyes were wide and his mandibles had parted to reveal soft, almost human-like lips behind, and a row of sharp, white teeth. The soft, ombré shading of grey that spread up his jaw, fading from almost coal black around his mandibles to a heather grey around his eyes, was almost mesmerising enough to ignore the look of open horror on his face. “Your parents were on the Albatross?” he whispered at last.

You nodded. “My da was the cook. Ma was a gunner.”

His black eyebrows rose at that. “But you survived?”

“Got washed overboard,” you shrugged. “I was eight.” You fought down a tide of sickening memories and rested your forearms on the stone wall of the old fort.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “My first mate, Ellary, led the mutiny against the captain of the Bloodcrest after what he did to the Albatross. She killed him herself.”

“Good.” Somehow, that did bring a bitter kind of consolation, and you managed a smile. “Anyway,” you said. “When I washed up here, Silas took me in as a pot-washer and floor-scrubber at the Salted Kipper. It’s not so bad…” you said, but you didn’t sound convincing, even to your own ears.

Steelsling shot you a flat look. “I’ve seen the way they treat you there,” he growled. “I’d have cut off their hands if they tried to touch me like that.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t all shoot barbed wire out of our bodies, can we?” you said, speaking yet again without thinking first.

Instead of being insulted though, the captain laughed loudly and freely. “I suppose not,” he said when the sound faded naturally, like a retreating wave on the shore. “Listen, there’s an opening on my crew. It’s nothing exciting, but we’re a soul down now, since Tammas had to go back to his family on land, and I’d like to ask you to join us.”

You blinked at him. “Me?”

“Yes.”

“But… Why? I haven’t been at sea since I was eight. I’d be no use to you.”

“I know for a fact you can cook, and I bet you’re just as capable at mending and fixing things. Besides, I think you’d make a good fit in our family.”

Sure, you’d grown pretty handy in a number of areas over the years, but you were hardly a sailor. “You’d do better to ask around the market,” you said, fighting down a wave of anxious pressure in your chest. “I — Thank you, for the offer, but I should get going. They’ll be wondering where I am.”

You turned without another word and walked away before you’d even realised he still had your basket over his arm. Seconds later, he scuttled up behind you, his needle-like legs making scarcely a sound on the stone, save for the single steel pin of his prosthetic, and he darted in front of you, blocking the way with his body. Your breath caught as a moment of panic flared and dissolved almost immediately. He held the basket out to you but didn’t relinquish it once your fingers gripped the handle. “Think about it,” he said. “The Widow stays here for a week, but I shan’t push you.”

And with that, he let go and stepped to one side, and you fled back to the tavern with your heart pounding.

You dropped three tankards that night, tripped over two tails that weren’t even in your way, and nearly landed in a slime’s lap before Harrow pulled you to one side and asked if you were coming down with something.

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just… distracted.”

“What’s going on?”

With a sigh, you told him, and he gawped at you like you’d grown another head when you got to the part about being offered a spot on Steelsling’s crew.

True to his word, Captain Steelsling and his crew stayed away from the tavern until the very last night that the Widow was due to stay in port. When Ellary opened the door and stepped in, the usual hush descended on the common room, and Harrow shot you a look. ‘Do it’ he mouthed at you along the length of the bar, and you sucked in a huge breath for courage and held it til your lungs burned.

When you made no move and looked like you might possibly throw up instead, Harrow marched over to you and poked you right in the centre of your chest, none too gently. “Fucking do it,” he said. “I’m going to miss the hell out of you, but if you don’t take this chance, you’ll never get off this gods-forsaken lump of rock. Plus, he fucking likes you.” When you frowned, Harrow rolled his eyes. “The dread pirate Steelsling, who famously never comes ashore, takes one look at you and comes back here to this shitty tavern once a fucking month for six fucking months, apologises for being away for so long without telling you, threatens to personally skin anyone who lays a hand to you, and —”

“— wait, what?”

“Oh.” Harrow’s dark eyes widened guiltily. “You didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t know! What the fuck?”

Harrow shifted his weight. “I only learned about it when I overheard Lannicka grousing about how she wanted to teach you a lesson but didn’t want to wake up in a fucking web, dangling off a spar on her own ship…” He cleared his throat and glanced at the floor between his dark goat’s hooves. Behind him, his tail swished back and forth. “Turns out your captain overheard someone a few nights ago down at the docks laughing about getting you to spill ale all down your shirt, and he let it be known that the way people treated you was… ‘unacceptable’…”

“I wondered why people had backed off a bit this week,” you muttered. “I just thought they’d finally had enough fun and got bored with picking on the human.” You wanted to be angry with him for doing it behind your back, but it had made your work noticeably easier.

Harrow looked across the common room and his tapered ears pulled back suddenly, his multiple earrings flashing in the lamplight. “His first mate’s looking at you. She just pointed at you and beckoned you over.”

With a sigh, you turned your back on Harrow and looked at Ellary. She cocked her head to one side in a silent, expectant question.

“Go,” Harrow said. “I’ll miss the fuck out of you, but —”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” you laughed, already taking your apron off. You hugged him and he hugged you back. “Thank you for taking care of me,” you said. “You could have been like everyone else, but you weren’t, and I’ll always love you for that.”

He squeezed you more tightly. “Don’t forget about me, alright?”

“Never,” you promised, and set your apron on the counter top. “And thank Silas for me too,” you said. “He could have turned me away.”

“Still could have treated you better,” Harrow growled, canines showing.

You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now though, does it?” you said, and grabbed the small bag you'd packed earlier and stowed beneath the bar. “Take care, alright?”

He nodded. “You too.”

When Ellary saw the bag in your hand, she grinned and stood up. Beside her, the delicate cervitaur rose from the soft cushion they’d been seated on — or, more appropriately, draped across like a slightly wilted lily — and flicked an ear at you.

“You’re coming along, then,” Ellary said, clapping you on the shoulder hard enough to send you staggering. You reeled backwards and found yourself righted by the crab-folk merman, who laughed like an open drain.

“I hope your sea-legs are better than that, friend,” he guffawed, snapping his pincers like percussion instruments.

“Last time I used my sea legs, I was eight,” you said, embarrassed. “I’ll be lucky if I’m not throwing up over the sides before we leave port.”

“Ah, Anneke has a potion or concoction for everything, seasickness included. You’ll be fine. Come on,” he said, and he chivvied you out of the tavern amid a forest of astonished gazes from the patrons.

When you reached the harbour, with the small fishing boats gently bobbing and the larger ships creaking and swaying at their stone quays, you had begun to wonder what you’d got yourself into. Ellary had strode along on huge, near-silent hooves, her scarlet coat flapping open to reveal only the thick fur of her pelt and the vaguest impression of her physique underneath, and Macs, the crab-folk — who apparently never shut up unless Ellary threatened to put him in a cook pot — had talked himself hoarse about their plans for the coming weeks’ sailing, while Phlox, the cervitaur, had tittered at almost every joke Macs made. You snorted softly through your nose when you realised that the most fearsome and mythical pirate crew of the era were actually a bunch of kind-hearted dorks.

“Something funny, human?” Macs asked, glancing sidelong at you while you all headed along the stone dock towards the sleeping figure of the Widow’s Web where she rocked quietly in the darkness.

“You know what?” you said, “I was actually afraid of you lot when you first walked into the tavern.”

“Ha!” he barked, and elbowed you in the ribs so hard you actually tripped over your feet at last and went sprawling sideways onto the stones. Or at least, you would have done, had Ellary not anticipated it and grabbed you at the last minute and hauled you up again with her huge hands.

“For fuck’s sake,” she muttered. “Can’t even take you to collect a new crew member without you causing physical harm to someone, Macs,” she said, and then looked at you. “He’s our master gunner, believe it or not.”

You raised your eyebrows and he clacked his pincers together. “Ain’t no one able to make a shot like me, human,” he grinned. “You can bet your unarmoured hide on it.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’ll show you, soon as we clear the reef tomorrow,” he said, puffing his chest up enough that Phlox giggled again and he looked mightily pleased with himself.

“I live with a bunch of buffoons,” Ellary said dryly and ushered you up the gangplank ahead of her, probably so that if you tripped, she could catch you before you toppled head-first into the salty, sloshing muck of the harbour at high tide.

A flap of dark wings from the rigging above made you look up once you were aboard, and a black-feathered kenku dropped to the deck. In Ellary’s own voice, using what was clearly a carefully-curated selection of her own words, parroted back at her, they said, “About time you got here. Captain’s gonna start spitting webs in a minute.”

Ellary snorted a laugh and turned to introduce you to the kenku. “This is Specs,” she said, gesturing at the avian creature. “Lookout and navigation.”

“Pleasure,” you said, muttering your own name.

In Macs’ voice this time, Specs cackled, “Nice to have new blood aboard.”

“C’mon. I’ll show you where to put your stuff, and we’ll find our illustrious, brooding captain, shall we?” Ellary sighed.

Knocking on the carved, ebony door of the captain’s quarters a short while later, Ellary didn’t wait to be called in, barging her shoulder against the salt-warped wood and stepping in with the familiar ease of a lifelong friend.

Part of you had expected to find webs slung in the corners and the carcasses of dessicated animals dangling from the ceiling, but of course, it was just a simply but comfortably furnished cabin, with a large desk smothered in charts and navigational instruments. The captain himself was standing behind it, his body little more than a dark silhouette against the large window at the rear of the ship, and his silver hair dangling like a drifting ghost in the light breeze that wafted in with Ellary.

The minotaur shoved you into the room and saluted the captain without a word before leaving, closing the door behind her.

“You… You decided to come?” he faltered, sounding unsure of himself for the first time.

You nodded. “I do have a bone to pick with you though, Captain,” you added and he cocked his head.

“Oh?”

“What’s this I hear about you threatening to flay people on my behalf?”

He did have the good grace to look embarrassed about that, and dropped his onyx gaze to the floor. “I apologise,” he said. “I lost my temper with someone in the docks, and did nothing to stop the spread of the rumour once it started.”

You shrugged. “Figured that was how it had gone.”

“Did Ellary show you your quarters?” he asked, as much to change the subject as to find out the answer.

With a nod, you looked around his cabin. “Nicer than a mouldy mattress in the Kipper’s storeroom,” you said. “When do we sail?”

“With the tide,” he said. “I’d almost abandoned hope you were coming with us.”

“Why did you want me, really?” you asked with narrowed eyes.

He sighed and came around the desk to stand in front of you, his prosthetic making a soft ‘pinging’ noise on the wood as the wickedly sharp tip pulled free with each step. You wondered, not for the first time, how he’d lost the limb, but didn’t ask.

“I warmed to you the moment you spoke to me,” he said simply. “You were afraid, but you still came over, and you were… yourself. The others… they all know my — our— reputation, and that changes how they speak to me, how they act around my crew, but you remained yourself, and I admired that.”

Swallowing, you tried not to choke. Other than Harrow, no one had ever made you feel like you were worth more than a passing moment their time, but here was the most successful pirate captain in the known kingdoms, telling you he thought that who you were was valuable to his crew. To his family.

“Look, you must be tired,” he said, clearly reading your emotions and not wanting to overwhelm you. “Why don’t you settle in for the night? We’ll sail within the hour, but you don’t have to do anything. Of course, you’re welcome wherever you like on the ship, but no one will ask anything of you just yet.”

Blinking through your tears you nodded and choked out a vague ‘thank you’ before vanishing below.

It was three days before you felt like you could contribute anything useful, and, just as he’d promised, no one asked anything of you until then.

After three months as part of the crew, you knew you were never going to set foot on land again willingly, and you understood why they just kept sailing from prize to prize. It was bliss. Even in the worst of the weather, you felt safe. Anneke, the weather witch, kept the most violent of storms from touching the ship, and the crew knew their business, tightening and trimming the rigging and the sails til the ship fairly thrummed with the joy of being at sea.

Ellary, you came to learn over the course of many an evening, had a dry sense of humour that left you breathless before guffawing a great laugh that would have made you self-conscious before, and Macs was just as bad. He was a practical joker, but never in a way that made you feel small or embarrassed. You met the other elusive members of the crew as well — those who had not felt confident or comfortable in coming ashore — and you fell slowly in love with all of them in their own way. Minal, an aqrabuamelu with a scorpion’s body and a human’s torso, was the cheery chef of the ship, and Gráinne, a selkie with a voice like singing glass and a burn scar across her face, was the ship’s quartermaster. Others on the crew included another minotaur named Wilf, a huge but incredibly sweet gnoll with a habit of giggling at the most inappropriate of moments, and a twitchy werefox named Keel who still treated you with suspicion, even after three months.

But above all, you found yourself drawn back to the captain. He stood on the deck with the wind in his hair and a smile on his handsome, inhuman face, and he looked truly relaxed. His strange body absorbed the motion of the sea and the rocking of the ship, and he would just as happily spend the morning dangling from his webs amid the rigging, scouting the horizon with Specs, as on the solid deck below, but oddly enough, when he seemed most happy, he was with you.

He taught you to read the charts properly and to map the course of the sun, to plot the stars and read the ocean currents and the patterns of the birds. He introduced you to the colony of orca merfolk who hunted just off the shore and provided information on the movements of the Imperial navy. He ate with the crew on the deck on warm nights, laughing shyly and encouraging them to play their instruments and dance and sing. Keel was a talented violinist, and Harrik, the gnoll, would always watch him with wide, dark, bashful eyes. It was unbearably sweet.

One night, as you leaned back on your hands and tilted your face to the stars while the others continued their revels, you caught a huge sigh from the captain, and glanced up just as he looked away from you and rose to stalk away towards the stern of the ship.

With a little frown, you noticed the way Ellary shook her head too, and when you met her gaze she rolled her red eyes and said under her breath so that no one else would hear above Keel’s lively gig, “Go after him, for pity’s sake.”

You nodded, and slipped away from the others. Climbing the stairs to the deck above the captain’s quarters, where you weren’t really supposed to be, you found him staring out over the ship’s wake, leaning his forearms on the taffrail and resting his great spider body on the boards of the ship’s deck. He looked small and sad and deflated in a way you’d never known, and it sent a frisson of worry through you.

“Captain?” you asked.

He startled a little despite the noise your boots had made on the stairs, and he twitched around to look at you. His breath caught audibly in the moonlight and you watched him swallow. “Yes?”

“Are you alright, Captain?”

His large eyes turned especially glassy for a second and he looked away. “Yes,” he lied.

“Captain, you —”

“It’s Ruven.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Ruven.”

“Oh,” you breathed, wondering how you’d gone so long without learning it. Then again, everyone called him ‘captain’ with the same affection they called you ‘human’. “Can I join you, Ruven?”

Slowly, and with an unbearable sadness in his eyes, he looked back over his shoulder at you. He was wearing only an undyed linen shirt, and it flapped loosely around his lean torso in the breeze. It made you want to touch, to draw it up to expose the musculature and chitinous plating underneath, to explore his body with your hands. “Yes,” he said quietly.

You approached on his right side and watched as he drew his long legs in a little closer to his body, as if to welcome you further into his space. You leaned your weight carefully against his steel prosthetic, knowing it could take it, and he let out a shaky breath.

He towered over you but you’d never felt more at ease with someone, and he nestled a little further down to accommodate your height. You smiled at him. “Thank you, Ruven,” you said, trying out his name again and enjoying the sound of it on your tongue.

“For what?”

You shrugged and stared out at the dark sea, a little overwhelmed. Little flashes of phosphorescence danced on the ship’s wake, like a heartbeat in the depths. “For giving me a family again,” you said with a glance back at the crew who were capering about on the deck below. “For making me feel loved.”

“You are loved,” he said without hesitation. He exhaled your name and leaned down to take your fingers in his dark grey hands. “You are loved,” he said again with sincerity burning in his black eyes. “Never doubt that.”

You smiled up at him, and gently tugged one hand free of his, then reached up to cup his sharp face in your palm. “I don’t. Not now.” You ran the pad of your thumb along his right mandible and he shuddered bodily, eyes rolling shut with a rasping breath. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered.

A second or two later, a large, slow tear rolled from one eye, down his cheek to splash onto the deck between you.

“Ruven?”

“No one has ever said that to me,” he croaked, nudging his cheek further into your palm without opening his eyes again. “Terrible, monstrous, ruthless… but never beautiful.”

“Always beautiful,” you said, and he picked you up.

He held you to his chest, supported by the knees of his forelegs, and hugged you. His hands began to wander and you gasped, arching into his touch.

“Take me below,” you whispered and he smiled. “I’m yours.”

He didn’t linger, scuttling silently down the gangway to his cabin and closing the door behind him.

He laid you down on his large, soft bed and took you apart with slow kisses and lingering touches until you were moaning his name and shaking with a pleasure you never dared dream would be yours.

“Come over me,” you gasped as he kissed you where you were most sensitive, enjoying the taste and feel of you. “Please, I need —”

“Don’t encourage me,” he laughed. “I’m so close, and I’m making such a mess…”

You looked up at that and saw that he was dripping clear fluid from his abdomen onto the floor beside the bed.

“I’ve never made such a mess,” he laughed again.

“Please…”

He shifted his legs, looming over you again, and he rubbed his sensitive core over your legs, enjoying the slide of your bodies together at last. In three strokes, he came undone and cried out, arching his human spine to bring his spider’s body close to you, and he came with a yell in a wave over your lower body, his legs twitching and his body convulsing.

When he was utterly spent, he lay down beside you on his back and you curled up next to his cool, human torso, tracing the lines of chitin plating where his abdomen blended into the soft, moonlight fur of his spider’s body. He twitched occasionally but otherwise lay still and stared at you with his black eyes.

“I love you,” he said, apropos nothing.

You kissed him and let his mandibles rake tenderly over your cheeks while he kissed you back. “I love you too, Captain,” you smiled and he groaned into the kiss. “I love you too.”

__

Thanks for reading this story, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging it (as well as leaving a like) if you enjoyed it, as that will help others find it.

Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

[rems-writing]

Until we meet again, my love

Pairing: Anubis!Seonghwa x MoonKnight!reader

Summary: Marc and the reader have been shot to death by Arthur Harrow as they are trying to stop him from releasing Ammit from her ushabti prison and wreaking havoc. As the twins fall to their death, they are separated as they land in the Duat. Taweret, the goddess of childbirth, is currently calming Marc and Steven down as they have found each other and are trying to escape the Duat. They both woke up in what appears to be a mental hospital but... what of his twin? Where are they? And why are they not with Marc and Steven?

Warning(s): Implications of sex but nothing actually happened, simp!Seonghwa, gn!reader

Genre: Fluff with an angsty beginning, some spicy moments, and a fluffly ending

Nets: @blossomnet @mirohs-aurora-society

Context: Anubis is the ancient Egyptian god of the dead long before Osiris came about. During his funerary practices, he would ensure lost souls that they would be cared for and respected as they move on and live in the Field of Reeds.

Once again, thank you to @ja3hwa and @acupoftaewithsomesuga for helping me decide which god goes with which member

"WHERE'S MY TWIN?!" Marc yelled out in a panic.

"As much as I would love to ask many questions, Ms. Taweret, where is Marc's twin? We really need to find them!" Steven agreed nervously.

"I'm not sure, gentlemen. And I am so sorry. Rest assured; we will find them so all of you can move on." Taweret said in a soothing voice. The hippo goddess, albeit calm on the outside, was panicking along with them. She was supposed to welcome and guide all three of them across the Duat and into the Field of Reeds.

'Oh dear. I need to find them fast.'

Little did she know that another god slipped out from the shadows and snatched the other Spector out of selfishness...

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

You groaned as you woke up first and stretched before sitting up in bed. Your eyes were bleary so you rubbed the sleepiness out of them before blinking rapidly.

Wait...

Your room never looked like this.

Pristine white walls surrounded the room and you noticed a pc sitting atop a desk. It was black and chrome silver and there were figurines everywhere, along with Lego sets. You narrowed your eyes and leaned in a bit before retracting yourself.

The Lego set had pyramids and the Lego figurines looked eerily a lot like the henchmen/followers that Arthur recruited. You gulped nervously as you saw the Lego figurine version of Arthur with his stupid cane and his stupid smirk. More Lego figurines popped up in your vision and you felt a shiver go down your spine.

There were four Lego figurines that depicted Marc, Steven, Marc's wife Layla, and you.

Finally, you looked behind the figurines and your eyes widened.

Two tall Lego action figures were battling it out. One looked like Ammit once she was released from her ushabti prison. Even in Lego form, she looked terrifying. The other looked like Khonshu, that fuck ass old bird Egyptian god of the moon.

Just what was going on?

You felt cold and you covered your nude self with a blanket.

Wait a minute...

WHY WERE YOU NAKED?!

That's when you saw it. And you wanted to throw up.

Clothes were strewn all over the floor, alongside opened condom packets. Your eyes then looked downwards to see a human arm wrapped around your waist.

From the looks of it, that arm was holding you tight. You felt pain on your neck and you realized that whoever you slept with, they left a lot of hickies on your neck. Your lower body was also aching and you lifted the covers slightly to see the grip marks on your thighs.

If you truly did have sex with someone, they must've went hard on you.

You tried to wiggle your way out of this person's hold yet to no avail. They were holding onto you so tight that you felt like you were being glued to the bed. Finally, you freed yourself from your captor's grasp and went still as the person groaned sleepily and turned to the other side.

'HOLY SHIT! HE HAS SCRATCHES ON HIS BACK! I SEROUSLY NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE!'

You quickly but quietly snuck out of bed and tiptoed your way over to the first door that you saw. When you opened it, it revealed a closet.

'Huh. Not what I was looking for but I suppose I could get dressed before I dip. After all, I don't need Marc and Steven seeing me naked.'

As you entered the closet, you couldn't help but be fascinated by the amount of clothes this person had.

At least this person had good fashion sense.

You were about to settle on a random set of clothing when you came across a familiar suit. You pulled it out momentarily and almost screamed.

It was your ceremonial suit that Khonshu provided.

You threw it against the wall and it landed with a soft thud onto the floor.

Just what was going on??

Panicking, you threw on a white tank top and white shorts before running stealthily into the bathroom. You turned on the faucet and splashed your face a bunch of times with cold water. As you grabbed a towel and dabbed your face dry, you looked up into the mirror to see your reflection.

You almost let out a scream.

Instead of a haphazardly dressed woman with bed hair and hickies all over her neck while the shower was behind her, you see a woman with lifeless eyes and an outfit that looked similar to Marc's. You then saw two bright red spots on the chest area of your outfit, alongside with a body of water surrounding you.

'No. NO. NO! I'm not dead! I shouldn't be! We were so close to taking down Harrow! Wait... did he shoot us?!'

You rubbed your eyes and counted to three before opening them. You saw the reflection that you expected to see, but you weren't alone.

Standing behind you was a tall man dressed in black sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His upper half was bare. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you towards him so your back was touching his chest. His head was buried in the crook of your neck and you felt his plush lips kiss your neck softly. You froze when you felt the tip of his long tongue drag upwards before kissing behind your ear.

"Come back to bed, my love."

Hell no.

You shoved his arms away from you and you turned around so you could face him instead.

That was a mistake.

His face was the prettiest face you've ever seen on a man. Plush lips formed into a pout, a prominent pointed nose, brown eyes that looked warm and inviting, a long slender neck that was littered with a lot more hickies, a small waist, and long arms that fit his lean muscular body.

You didn't know if you were ensnared by his beauty or experiencing gender envy.

You were so distracted by him that you failed to notice the faint outline of a jackal's head surrounding him.

"Are you ok? Looks like last night took a toll on you. Maybe I'll be gentler next time."

"Last night?! I just got here! What are you talking about?"

"Huh. For someone who doesn't drink a lot, you sure don't remember a whole lot."

As he stepped closer to you, you backed up slowly and reached behind you to try and open the bathroom door. Of course it had to be jammed. As you wiggled the doorknob, you felt a hand caress your cheek lightly. Wearily, you looked up to see the handsome man tilt his head slightly out of curiosity.

"Do you remember my name? You were definitely screaming it a lot."

"The fuck? No I don't! And quite frankly, I don't want to remember it."

You didn't miss the way his eyes turned from playful to upset yet you chose to ignore it. You wiggled the doorknob again while he kept speaking. His voice was soft but instead of it being teasing, it was saddened.

"My name is Seonghwa."

"Yeah hi nice to meet you, Seonghwa. Listen. I need to go."

"Go where? Are you in a rush to go to work? I can drop you off."

Ha. If only it were that simple for you. You shook your head.

"Look. If I don't leave now, I might be too late. Thanks for letting me... sleep over... or whatever. Ok bye!"

You finally pried the bathroom door open and you sprinted to the final door. You were so anxious to leave that you didn't hear him yell cautiously.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you!"

When you opened the door and stepped out, you froze.

Nothing but sand dunes and eerie winds were present. As you looked around, you noticed something different in the dimly lit sky. Huge balls of bright purple light shot down from the sky and landed in various parts of the sand dunes. Your eyes widened in realization.

Arthur was still alive and sending people down here using Ammit's power.

"No. NO! This isn't happening!"

You needed to get out of there. You need to be reunited with Marc and figure out how to escape this place. You were so caught up in your own head that you didn't notice the man, who claims to be Seonghwa, grabbed your arm and pull you back inside the room. He closed the door and locked it. You were about to protest when he held a finger up.

He was annoyed. But wasn't he holding you captive though?

"Had I moved a bit later, the sands would have eaten you alive, leaving you to be lost forever in the Duat."

The Duat?

Oh shit.

You really were dead then.

"The Duat is the Egyptian Underworld. But doesn't Osiris rule this place?"

A loud and bitter laugh escaped his pretty lips and you felt yourself blush out of embarrassment. Clearly, this wasn't Osiris's avatar. So who was he?

"Even the human I fell in love with only remembers that fool's name."

Wait a second...

The gears finally clicked in your head and you felt yourself kneel and your head bow in shame.

"I'm so sorry, Anubis! I forgot that you were the original personification of death. Please forgive me. Do not send me out into the sand dunes. Please!"

Seonghwa, or Anubis as you have stated, sighed quietly as he looked at your trembling form kneeling before him. While a part of him was happy that someone remembered his name and still trembled in fear right in front of his presence, he never wanted you to tremble in fear because of him. He swallowed his pride and knelt down to your level before grabbing your shoulders and making you rise to your feet. Your head was still bowed down in shame and his heart clenched painfully at the sight.

Clearly, you had no intention of forgetting who he was. You were so wrapped up in your fear and anxiety of this place that he couldn't help but hug you. Lifting your head up so you could see him, he brought you into a warm hug. His strong arms wrapped around your shaking body and he shushed you gently whenever he heard you mutter apologies.

"Oh, my love. It's ok. I'm just glad you remember my name. Don't cry."

He kissed the side of your head while you laid on his shoulder. He kept you in his embrace until you stopped shaking. He pulled away momentarily and wiped away the remaining tears that were on your face.

"Normally, I don't do this with most of the lost souls that end up in the Duat. However, you are someone special to me. I don't know if you recall, but this isn't the first time that we met."

"H-Huh?"

Seonghwa smiled sadly. He tenderly kissed your forehead before continuing to speak.

"Let me change into something a bit more appropriate before I explain."

He pulled away and walked into his closet to change quickly before coming back out in a different outfit.

He was now wearing a black tank top and blue jeans. They were adjusted so the waistband of his underwear was peeking out from the top. He raked his fingers through his messy black hair so it wouldn't look as bad as when he rolled out of bed and found you in the bathroom.

Even the waviness of his long black hair was pretty!

He pulled you once more into the bathroom and hoisted you up onto the counter before standing in between your legs and assessing any wounds you might have carried.

You were dead though so why would he...

"I'm aware that you're dead. However, I still pride myself in making sure that you look presentable even if you're dead."

His response was sassy and playful once more, yet it didn't stop you from feeling even more embarrassed. You hid your face in the crook of his neck and your ears perked up at the sound of his light and melodious laughter.

"It's ok. You probably didn't mean to say it out loud."

He bent down and brought out some gauze and a few medical supplies, along with some herbs and a mortar & pestle. The gauze made you skittish and Seonghwa noticed this.

"Come here, my love."

He brought you into a tender kiss, his lips molding with yours slowly and sensually. He set down the supplies and held your waist with a firm yet gentle grip. He snaked his arms around your waist and hummed in content as your shaky hands found his shoulders and settled on top of there. Just when he was about to shove his tongue down your throat, you pulled away. The both of you caught your breath and both of your lips were swollen.

Even though you enjoyed being in his arms, you were on a time crunch and you couldn't afford to waste it more. Seonghwa noticed this as well yet he couldn't help himself.

"Are you ok, my love?"

His voice was soft and caring as his eyes raked over your form. You stopped shaking but he had to make sure.

"Yeah. I'm ok. Thank you."

A pretty smile graced his face as he got to work in taking care of you. You watched as his hands raked over your body. It wasn't sexual but you definitely felt flustered under his touch. He took a wet rag and carefully dabbed it over the grip marks and bruises left on your thighs and hips. It felt warm to the touch and you watched in awe as the marks and bruises suddenly disappeared. Almost as if it was dirt smudged on your body!

He then moved on to the hickies on your neck. With each hicky being wiped away from your skin, he left a tender kiss in that same spot. Since he left a lot, the feeling of being flustered intensified since his soft lips raked over your skin. Again. It wasn't sexual but you highly doubted that he treated all lost souls like this when he tended to them after finding them drifting hopelessly in the Duat. Once he was done, he lifted his head and kissed both of your cheeks.

"How are you feeling, my love?"

"I'm great I mean I'm hot I mean I'm fine I mean uh..."

Seonghwa giggled at your rambling and kissed you quickly to shut you up.

"This last part... you might need to take off this tank top."

You knew what was coming. Rather than argue, you slowly lifted your tank top just enough for him to gasp quietly as his eyes fell on the two holes that were in your chest.

"Ammit's followers did this to you?"

You saw the angry look on his face as his eyes went from brown to a menacing black. The outline of the jackal's head shone brightly as a growl emitted from his throat and one of his hands gripped the countertop so hard that you were afraid of the godly strength he would use if he broke off a piece of it.

"Seonghwa, calm down. Please."

Your plea falls deaf on his ears and you panicked. Shoving your tank top down, you surged forward and grabbed his face before kissing him quickly. His body relaxed as you pulled away and connected your forehead with his. You saw a tear roll down his face and you quickly wiped it away.

"Technically, only one follower did. His name is Arthur Harrow. He used to be under Khonshu's grasp, but now he follows in Ammit's footsteps."

"That doesn't make it any better, Y/N."

"I know, but still. I'm here with you now."

"It's only temporary since you have to go back to the world of the living and stop this mad man."

"Whether it be temporary or permanent, I am here with you."

"You're right. If I had it my way, I would never let you go. I already did the first time."

"Speaking of which, when did we actually have our first encounter?"

As Seonghwa signaled for you to lift your tank top once more so he can take care of the bullet wounds in your chest, he spoke.

"It was when you and your brother died under Khonshu's statue after defeating those mercenaries."

A wince left your mouth and Seonghwa quickly apologized, thinking he hurt you. You shook your head.

"You didn't hurt me with the tweezers. You unintentionally brought up a painful memory."

"It was never my intention to bring you pain, my love."

"I know, but still. You were just recalling the first time we met."

"You were so young. I couldn't bring myself to drag you to the Duat at such a young age, knowing that there was more in store for you. Begrudgingly, I let Khonshu take a hold of you. I even forced him to promise to take care of you and your brother. Being a younger god, he obeyed me."

You wanted to make light of this situation so you decided to roast the moon god.

"Khonshu? Young? His godly form is withered and the bird skull is old."

Seonghwa's heart melted when you lightly giggled as you poked fun at the moon god. After removing the bullets, he placed some herbs in the mortar & pestle before pouring water in and grinding them up.

"Contrary to what you might think, he is actually younger than me. It's my human disguise throwing you off. My original god form is quite... something."

He stepped back momentarily to reveal his godly form for a brief moment before resorting back to his human disguise.

"Well then... that's definitely something. I think I like this better. Sorry."

You smiled sheepishly and Seonghwa waved it off, not offended at all.

"It's ok. A lot of people find it better if I approach them like this."

You felt a pang of jealousy course through your body as you thought about how many lost souls encountered him before moving onwards into the Field of Reeds. Seonghwa must have noticed and he smirked lightly before setting the mortar & pestle down and leaning in to leave light kisses on your jaw.

"Is my pretty baby jealous?"

His voice deepened and became more sensual as his lips roamed across your skin. You shook your head and Seonghwa chuckled smoothly before lifting his head to stare at you with sincerity and love in his eyes.

"Relax, my love. There is nothing to be jealous of. I only want you."

You felt at ease knowing that he had eyes for you only. Satisfied with your contentment, Seonghwa got back to work. The ground up herbs mixed with the water turned into an aromatic paste. He grabbed some with two fingers and applied it gently over the bullet wounds. You watched as he finished tending to your wounds and a grateful smile fell onto your face.

"The paste dries up quickly so you can put your tank top back on now."

You touched the spots that were covered in paste. True to his word, the paste did dry up quickly. As you put the tank top back on, you found him staring at you.

"So... what now?"

"Normally, I'd guide you into the Field of Reeds after tending to you. However, knowing that you need to get back out there and defeat this Harrow guy and Ammit, I will make sure you get back to the land of the living. By now, Osiris must've let Marc and Steven go and Taweret rescued them from the sand dunes. They should be here in a few minutes."

"I wish I could stay with you. You've been the kindest god I've ever come across. I'm sorry."

"It's ok, my love. I'm sorry I grabbed you out of selfish impulse."

You hugged him tightly and Seonghwa returned the hug gratefully. A knock sounded on the door and Seonghwa let you go before walking to the door and opening it. The hippo goddess looked back and forth between the two of you before speaking.

"Did you two..."

"No no. It was just an illusion to trick them. They looked past it."

"Ok good. Because if Marc was behind me, he'd probably would have tried to punch you."

"I'm fully aware of how protective he is."

"Well then... we've no time to lose. Come on, Y/N."

You looked at Seonghwa one last time before kissing his cheek and going with Taweret to board the boat that Marc and Steven were on. The boat soon took off and Seonghwa waved goodbye before closing the door behind him. He clutched his chest and a sob broke out of him.

"Until we meet again, my love..."

He waved his hand and the illusion of the nice bedroom was taken down, revealing the cobwebbed emptiness of the mummification room he forever resides in.

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

It had been some time since you and Marc were resurrected and took down Harrow before using him as a vessel to trap Ammit in. As promised, Khonshu let you go. You two were no longer bound to him so you got to live freely as regular human beings.

Which leads us to Marc arguing over the outfit you're wearing right now.

"Absolutely not! You're not going out like that!"

"Marc, come on! It's not that bad!"

"You're wearing a crop top. It's showing too much. Go change!"

Layla heard the commotion and giggled slightly at the Spector twins arguing.

"Marc, could you please tone it down a bit? It's a blind date! If it goes wrong, at least Y/N only wore this one time." Layla teasingly convinced Marc. Marc was about to protest when he felt Steven front.

"Layla's right, mate. I mean I don't like it either but if they like it, then I cannot argue." Steven's voice rang out. After Marc fronted again, the older twin sighed.

"Fine. But one time only!" He relented, feeling defeated. He smiled when he saw you squeal happily and felt his heart burst with adoration towards Layla smiling at you.

You saluted jokingly and hugged him before going with Layla so she could drop you off at the designated date spot.

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

DURING THE BATTLE BETWEEN THE MOON KNIGHTS AND AMMIT

"Are you sure, Anubis? Once you leave the Duat, your memories will be left behind here and you will become a new man in the land of the living."

Seonghwa sighed as he listened to Taweret.

"I'm fully aware. I'm ready though. I want to be with Y/N, even if it's not in my own body."

The hippo goddess sighed and brought the ancient god into a hug.

"Ok. If you say so. In the body of a different man, with a clear mind and an open clean heart, welcome to Earth."

Seonghwa smiled blissfully as he heard the last words of Taweret before stepping out into the light.

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

PRESENT TIME

"Hey. Sorry I'm late. Parking was horrible and traffic was twice as bad."

You looked up and saw the man you were supposed to meet. You almost folded.

He had long silver hair, bleached eyebrows, and glasses perched on the tip of his prominent nose. He had full lips, a nice jawline, and brown eyes that were warm, inviting, and a bit familiar.

He wore a suit that clung to his dorito like body well. It shaped his broad shoulders to look even broader. His waist was small and his hands were huge and adorned with many silver rings. As he sat down across from you, he spoke in that deep voice you loved already.

"I hope you didn't wait long."

You shook your head.

"You made it on time actually."

You stuck out your hand for a handshake.

"I'm Y/N Spector. Pleased to meet you."

The man smiled as he took your hand and shook it. His smile reached all the way to his eyes so they formed crescents.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Song Mingi."