#I've been telling myself that for 5 chapters now

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 6 - 29

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Contents: themes of someone else's self-harm, past attempted murder

~

Vera had to admit that between Gavin recovering from his captivity in Crayton, Edrissa’s attempt on his life, and the rest of the family’s anxious wind down from the hell that had been the past month, she hadn’t felt like she’d been getting any rest at all. And that wasn’t even mentioning the utter ass she had made of herself last night when she had seen Isaac’s scars and gaped like a dickhead – even grabbing his arm and pulling up his sleeve, baring the new cuts for everyone in the room to see. It didn’t take a fucking genius to know that Isaac didn’t want her to do that. She couldn’t even be mad at him for hiding the cuts all this time, because she had proven his fears right by reacting in the exact way he feared she would: like a fucking dickhead.

Still, she had known. In the back of her mind, in some small, frightened, cowardly corner of her heart, she had known all along. She hated herself for letting him suffer in silence and having the goddamn stones to tell him to his face what she suspected, and that she was here for him, and that she was sorry he was hurting so badly. He was her best friend in the entire world, and she had let him suffer in silence for an entire month, maybe longer, thinking he was completely alone.

There was nothing to do about that now, though. And she still hadn’t given enough thought to what she was going to do about the fact that Edrissa had tried to kill Gavin a few days ago.

“Fuck,” she spat, eyes fixed on the ground in front of her as it disappeared under each footstep.

Gray made a soft, inquisitive sound. “If I ask what’s going on, will that make it better, or worse?” They chuckled and cast a gentle smile at her.

She heaved a sigh and shook her head. “Neither,” she huffed. “It’s just…” She tossed her head and forced herself to look around at the surrounding forest, at the blaze of gold and orange leaves among the dusty green pine trees as she and Gray made their way into town. At least the trees gave her something else to think about. “…I sort of thought things would get easier once we got here. But things have felt like kind of a shitshow since we arrived.”

Gray nodded sagely. “Except for Gavin being missing and possibly dead,” they said in the wryest imaginable tone.

Vera snorted. “Yeah, that’s true. Except for that. Unfortunately for Edrissa.”

Gray winced. “Yes… that came as a surprise to all of us, I think.”

“What, her trying to kill Gavin? Or her still wanting him dead at all?”

“Both,” Gray said. “I have to admit, both of those were a surprise to me.”

“We don’t have to talk about Edrissa,” Vera grumbled.

Gray was quiet for a long moment. The leaves crunching under both their feet seemed impossibly loud in the silence. Then they said, “We will have to talk about it eventually. And… I feel that talking about it to you will be more… constructive than talking to Isaac.”

Vera let out a snort. “Yeah, I’ll give you that.”

When she didn’t continue, Gray lifted an eyebrow at her. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she huffed. “Yeah. It’s… a problem.”

“I’m assuming she hasn’t mentioned anything about trying to murder Gavin again to you,” Gray said delicately.

“Like she would if she was planning on it,” Vera grumbled back. Louder, she said, “No. Nothing. But, she’s been less… jumpy. And she’s met with Sam, which is good I think.”

“They’ve always been a bit of a stabilizing presence for her,” Gray said with a smile. “Although, I’m glad they’re staying with us and she’s staying with you.”

“Yeah,” Vera responded. As they left the forest behind, gravel crunching under her boots instead of leaves, the vague echo of voices replacing the velvety whoosh of wind through the trees, she found her voice lowering in volume. Her eyes darted between the buildings of the tiny main street of Laporte. Even though she had been in town a few times at this point, it still felt so foreign to think of this place as her new home. A few people looked up as the two of them approached. They smiled and waved. Awkwardly, Vera waved back.

“Howdy, Gray!” one of the townsfolk said.

Vera’s throat tightened. As much as she disliked the idea of people knowing who they were, she knew Isaac must hate it.

Her thoughts went to Gavin. He must know what it’s like to have everyone around you know exactly who you are.

Fuck, it’s gonna be rough, learning to live here.

“Hey there, Sabine,” Gray said back, warmly.

Vera glanced up at them, at the relaxed line of their shoulders, the easy curve of their smile. She wondered how much of that was a veneer meant to calm, to exude comfort and alleviate threat. She had never known Gray to not be good with people, never known them to not be the kind, beating heart of their family. They were the family, for as long as it had existed. It had started with Gray. It had always been Gray.

How many lives have they saved, just by being calm, being kind?

Are they saving our lives now?

Vera tossed her hair over her shoulder and followed them closely as they headed for the post office. That was the whole point of this walk, anyway; that, and the two of them discussing Edrissa and whether or not she was going to try and murder Gavin right under their noses again.

Fuck, running from death was so fucking exhausting. She was so, so ready to be done.

Gray led her to the post office building and pushed the door open. She followed them in and looked around. The building was large, far larger than the post office needed to be. While the building seemed to be some sort of gathering space with a few empty tables and chairs pushed against the walls, the post office took up only a small corner. There was no desk, no attendant, just a few shelves mounted on one wall in the corner, with bins on each shelf that had writing on them in black marker. Vera’s lips trembled as she read the names on some of the bins.

Kiernan Byrne

Barnes family

Rosa Garcia

Meredith Hughes

Vera Novak

Tori Nasser

Gavin Uriah

Kali Sind—

“Kali!”

Vera jumped, but there was a smile in Gray’s voice as he greeted the woman who entered the post office. She barely came up to Gray’s chest, but she reached up and squeezed their shoulder when she reached them. There was a hard, weathered look to her, from the crow’s feet on her suntanned face to the worn flannel tied around her waist, but there was an unfailing kindness in her eyes that had Vera’s shoulders relaxing immediately. She recognized in this unfamiliar woman the same familiar warmth that Gray shared wherever they went.

“Good to see you, Gray,” Kali said, and there was an unmistakable twang in her accent.

“This is Vera,” Gray said, gesturing at Vera. Kali wiped her hands on her jeans and shook Vera’s hand once. The grip was firm, but Vera felt in the woman’s rough grasp that her fingers could probably crush Vera’s hand with barely any effort.

Kali released Vera’s hand, giving her a smile. “Good to meet you,” she said, no-nonsense like she was stating a simple fact. “I’ve been meeting your family over the past week and I’ve gotten about half of them.” She chuckled and barked out a laugh. “We usually don’t have this many arrive at once. It feels like you’ve about doubled the size of the town!”

Vera blinked. “No way. You have… You have to have a lot more than—”

“I know, I know,” Kali said, laughing to herself. “But ten at once… lord, it does feel good to have so many new people to meet.”

Vera shuffled her feet and glanced between Gray and Kali. “Well that’s… good,” she said lamely.

Kali seemed totally unbothered by Vera’s lack of ability to come up with anything better to say. Without missing a beat, but without Vera feeling the slightest bit like she was the reason why the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, Kali turned to Gray and said, “I was hoping to run into you.”

Vera’s mouth went dry. She glanced at Gray and spotted, for a fraction of a second, a confirmation of what she feared: tightness in Gray’s mouth, the slightest delay in their next breath. “Oh?” they said.

“Oh, relax, nothin’ bad,” Kali said gently. And suddenly – amazingly – Vera believed her. “Was just wondering if you had any outgoing mail and wanted to remind you that we don’t exactly have, ah, mail service.” Again she let out that loud laugh, and Vera found herself smiling, too. “I don’t think I ever actually told y’all that if you want to send something out, you just drop it in the bin here and it gets sent out every two weeks with the same guy who brings the mail in.” Kali gestured to another basket nearer to the door, one that was labeled: outgoing mail.

Gray smiled and nodded. “I didn’t know that, thank you. Actually, I—”

The door to the post office opened, and someone Vera didn’t recognize walked in. Still, from Gray’s reaction – the flare of nostrils, the sharp intake of breath, the clench of one hand into a fist – Vera suddenly wished she had a weapon on her for this walk into town.

This woman – whoever she was – had dark hair pulled back into a braid, and dark eyes that belied a steely, merciless coldness that made Vera’s stomach churn. She was older than Vera, probably closer to Gray’s age, but she strode into the building with the muscular tension of a cat stalking its prey. Her mouth was creased in an expression of permanent contempt. And for some brief, inexplicable reason, Vera longed to slap that smirk right off her face.

“Afternoon,” Gray said, and fully turned their back on her.

Vera blinked, baffled.

The woman snorted and sauntered aimlessly into the post office, not seeming to look at anything.

“You need something?” Kali said, the warmth in her voice not faltering.

“Oh, yeah, Kali, but it can wait,” the woman said. “You seem like you’re in the middle of something.”

The condescension in the woman’s tone made Vera’s teeth itch. She cracked her neck and threw a glance at Gray. They were studiously looking at the floor, out the window, at their cuticles, anywhere but at the woman who seemed utterly committed to wandering the corner of the building dedicated to the post office. The rest of the building stood open, unused, but she didn’t seem interested in that. She stalked around the three of them like she was… doing it on purpose.

“Well,” Gray said through thin lips. “Thank you so much for your time, Kali. We won’t keep you. Thank you so much for filling us in. I’m sure we’ll see you around.”

Kali’s mouth turned down at one corner. “I understand, Gray,” she said, gently, as if something was passing between them that Vera did not understand. She reached out and squeezed their forearm. They laid their large, delicately fingered hand over her tiny one, and turned to go.

“Sorry,” Vera spat, her gaze flicking among the three of them in turn. “But what the fuck is going on?”

The woman snorted and rolled her eyes. She made her way over to the wall of mail bins and reached into one, pawing around in it before her hand emerged again, empty. “Aw,” she pouted.

Vera blinked. The woman had reached into the bin with Rosa Garcia written on the side in big, black letters.

“Wait,” Vera breathed.

The woman turned, clearly trying – and failing – to hide an impish grin. “There it is,” she sighed.

Vera shook her head and blinked again, shook her head again. “Sorry, I… wait. No.”

“Vera,” Gray said, “This is, ah. This is Rosa. The… the Rosa. And, before you ask, and I have asked…” Gray ground their teeth and threw a look of pure hate at the woman who stood at her mail basket wearing a childish, self-satisfied grin. “…we are not allowed to kill her.”

Continued here

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[imwritesometimes]

in one week it will officially be one year since I finished a fic edited it & posted it hahaha 😵‍💫😖😞😑

[greyias]

Writer asks: ✨🎀💝💌

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

Oh, that would probably be Lapsus Linguae, which I get why it didn't quite catch on (it's a bit long for a short fic, is basically oc x oc pairing so quite niche, and has a M-rating because of a random scene in the middle with a totally different pairing than the oc/oc content) -- but it still makes me laugh.

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

I will say, when I get enough distance from a written piece, it can still sneak up on me and give me unexpected feels, so I guess it not only holds up to a re-read, but can hold its emotional resonance.

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

I probably shouldn't have been, but for some reason I was absolutely convinced that people were really not going to like Girl Talk? (The reaction to which was the exact opposite). I think the brain weasels got me on that one.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

So I took a break from it for a little bit (because I got distracted), but I am having a ridiculous amount of fun with the Outlander!Theron AU, and kind of have to keep sitting on my hands so I don't start posting prematurely (the first chapter has been written for 5+ years now). I think I described to someone that it's the Bad Decision AU where no one is their best self, especially Theron, who makes promises in one chapter, and then immediately breaks it by the end of the next chapter, with predictable consequences:

Theron's quick temper finally got the better of him, and the desire to diffuse the situation evaporating and he snapped. "You were about to be killed, and I wasn't just going to stand there and let that happen!"

"You couldn't let that happen? Just like you couldn't let me read my own messages and let me go to the Terminus?"

"That was different!"

"How?"

Just like with his decision to go to the Terminus in her place, he hadn't really thought that far ahead in how to navigate this conversation. Like every ill-considered step he'd taken in life, it was a thoughtful, reckless impulse that somehow made even more of a chaotic mess of things.

"Well, it worked didn't it?" It was the wrong thing to say, and yet he forged on as if his temper had set his mouth on autopilot. "You're still alive -- that's what matters!"

She stared at him as if he'd sprouted a second head. "How can you say that? After everything I told you about what he did when I--he... how can you think giving that monster an inch of control is a good idea?"

[reiderwriter]

♦️There Are No Words Left to Speak ♦️

Chapter 5 of That's What You Get

Prev Chap || Next Chap

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Fem Reader

Summary: In a panic, you spill your guts to Penelope and receive some much needed advice before your "date" with Reid.

Warnings: None!!

A/N: This one is 4k words long because I absolutely could not help myself 😭 I've has a lot of messages and asks about this series lately, and it's been really encouraging to see! If you like this chapter, please comment or reblog and let me know or come chat with me in my inbox! Happy Reading!!

You can find my masterlist here and the series masterlist here.

"Penelope, I fucked up and I need your advice," you screamed into the room as soon as the door slammed open, startling the other woman as she threw her phone up in surprise. 

"Jesus, Y/N, you're lucky I didn't reach for the all too full can of pepper spray I store in here, oh my god."

"I'm sorry, Pen, I'm just, I'm kinda freaking out, and I need your help."

"Are we going to need wine, or are we going to need ice cream and a chick flick? What kind of problem are we talking here?" she asked from her place at the desk. 

"I married Spencer in Vegas." You said and then clamped your hand over your mouth as you finally let the pressure of the weekends mess seep out of you now that you'd shared your secret. 

"Oh my god, both, we'll do both. We need both, let's go, let's go now."

–X– 

Penelope drove the two of you home, immediately moving into a mothering role as soon as the words left your mouth, and she could see your impending implosion. You were grateful that she didn’t ask you any further questions as you made your way back to her apartment, just turning on the radio to a channel playing 90s pop hits and simply letting you calm down through the fun music. 

When you finally got through her door, she let you get comfortable and then immediately came back with all the things she promised. 

“Okay, I know you’re more a rose girl, but all I have is this really nice white that Derek got me for my last birthday and half a bottle of tequila, and I think it’s better for the both of us if we don’t open the tequila. Also, I have chocolate, cookie dough ice cream, and tissues, and When Harry Met Sally on DVD, I'm ready to be plugged in and played as soon as you say the word.” 

“Penelope, we do not tell you how brilliant you are as often as we should.” 

“While that is true, I’m trying my best not to immediately cave and ask you to spill, so can we please sing my praises after you explain what you mean by saying you married Spencer.” 

“God, Penelope, I don’t know what happened,” you let your head hang in your hands and she immediately moved to sit closer to you, rubbing a hand over your back and getting the tissues ready. 

“We went out drinking, and my mom got in my head earlier in that call I took, and I don’t remember anything and then I woke up and we were in bed together and-” you rambled out, lifting your head up as you tried to explain, but she cut you off quickly there.

“You were in bed together? Did you… you know, bump uglies with Spencer? Do the old in n’ out? Sorry, I’m making this worse, I’ll shut up now,” she said, but you laughed at her enthusiasm, and you felt more of the weekend’s tension leave your body. You knew that you had made the right decision coming to Penelope with this. She always knew how to make you feel better. 

“I don’t know, but it looks like it. TMI but-”

“Hold on, I don’t think I want to know what the Good Doctor is like in bed.” She visibly shuddered, and you let out another shaky laugh. 

“Well considering I remember none of it, you’d be hard pressed to get those details from me. I did wake up handcuffed to the bed, though.” 

“Shut the front door, no you did not!” Penelope’s jaw dropped. “Oh god, I’m almost morbidly curious, but I don’t want to open that can of worms. Sorry, please continue.” 

You took a swig of the wine she poured you and relaxed a bit further into her couch, pulling your legs up under you to find a more comfortable position as you told the rest of your story to Penelope, gaining more confidence with each of her reactions to what you told her. 

“So, now we just need to track down our two witnesses and get the marriage quietly annulled, and we can forget it ever happened.” You could hear the frown in your voice before you realised you were making that kind of expression, and from Penelope’s reaction, you could see that she’d noticed too. 

“Oh.. oh, I know that look. You don’t want the annulment, do you?” 

“Yes! I mean, no! Look, I really don’t know how to answer that right now, it’s just…” you trailed off, and Penelope silently filled your wine glass again, not saying anything and letting you come around at your own pace. 

“Earlier today, after we told Rossi, and before I came running to you, he… he kissed my forehead, and he called me Mrs. Reid, and I really liked it. And I didn’t think about it before, but Reid is nice, and he is good, and he is obviously really smart, and, god  he’d be a great dad, and he took care of me yesterday and today… Penelope, I think I have a crush on my husband.” You gasped out, feeling the weight of your revelation as it hit you straight in the gut. 

“But we talked about it and we’re getting an annulment and now it’s like I fucked up before I really got the chance to let it go anywhere, and what if it’s a mistake? What if I made the world’s greatest fuck up and married a great man in Vegas and then threw it all away a week later?” you raked your hand through your hair quickly, trying to ignore the tears forming quickly in your eyes. 

“Oh my god, sweetie, it’s going to be okay… You’re going to have to trust me when I tell you that it’s going to be okay…” she patted you on the back and you let the tears fall down a bit, quickly dabbing them away with the now balled up tissue in your hand. 

“I don’t know if I can, Pen…” you tried to smile up at her, but you could feel your lips wobbling and you let your head hang again before you could let out a choked sob. 

“No, nonononoonono, listen to me… Okay, promise you won’t hate me after I say this?” She said, squishing your cheeks between her hands as she made you look up into her eyes. 

“I pwomise,” you sniffed out, voice muffled by her strong grip. She let you go then, content that she had your attention. 

“I know for a fact that the boy is as infatuated with you as you are with him because… because I saw you two.” She stopped there to watch your reaction, but you froze, so she continued.

“You… you called me from wherever you guys were out in Vegas, mumbled some words over the phone and then sent me a picture of a brochure with an address on it, and then when I turned up it was a wedding chapel and you were getting married.” She winced out those last words, and you gasped at the confession. 

“You were one of the witnesses! Penelope!” You pointed an accusatory finger at her, but it was half-hearted. You knew that you were stubborn enough while sober. You certainly wouldn’t have been persuaded out of something you obviously wanted while blackout drunk. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but you guys were just too cute! He was giving you all these small kisses on your forehead and on your cheeks, and you looked like innocent kids giddy and high on love, and I didn’t want to bring you back down to earth. You looked so happy, and I do not make it a habit to get in the way of my friends’ happiness.” 

“Penelope, why didn’t you say anything?” You groan out, sounding a bit like a petulant teenager who has just discovered her mom threw out a shirt she hadn’t worn in years. 

“I wanted to, but I was told not to…” she winced away. “And before you ask, I won’t tell you who else was there! Just know it was someone else who also loves both of you and would’ve pulled you two out of there. No questions asked if they thought you were making a stupid decision!” 

You let the revelations sink in, one by one. Penelope was there. Reid couldn’t keep his lips off of you. The other witness thought you two were good together. It almost didn’t surprise you when you started giggling, finding humour in the situation at least. 

“Oh my god, Penelope, I got married in Vegas to my coworker. And I think I’m in love with him now.” You were in a fit of giggles now, and Penelope hesitantly joined in at first. 

“Yeah, I suppose it is funny when you put it that way.” 

“God, what am I going to do? How am I going to face him from now on?” You pulled yourself together again and faced Penelope again, hoping that she would have actual answers for your very rhetorical question. 

“Well, at least we have a couple of days off now. You don’t have to see him again until we go to work.” 

“No, we have a date tomorrow,” you said matter-of-factly. “Appointment, really, he’s reading some books on alcohol induced memory loss tonight, and then I’m going over to his place to see if any of it can help us fill in the blanks.” 

“Oh god, you’re going to talk books with Reid. That’s practically as romantic as it gets for him. No wonder he wifed you up.” You playfully kicked her leg, and she laughed again. “Okay, so no avoidance, okay. Maybe you could put the moves on him? Try to recreate that scene with the handcuffs. Who knows what might happen.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you then, and you did your best not to once again be overcome by a fit of giggles.

“Okay, enough of my romantic problems. I was promised When Harry Met Sally and that ice cream has probably melted, so let’s get to it.” 

–X–

You braced yourself at the apartment door as you psyched yourself up to knock. As promised, you’d been greeted in the morning by a text from Spencer with his address and a proposed time to meet. He’d suggested 5pm, and you’d agreed, but here you were 20 minutes early, probably looking overdressed and over eager to spend time with your coworker/ husband/ soon to be former husband, maybe. 

You’d left Penelope’s apartment that morning, having had an impromptu sleepover, happy that you’d at least confirmed your own feelings. You’d taken a taxi to collect your car, then spent the rest of your time at home overthinking and overpreparing. 

You’d put on a dress and some make-up, and you were almost regretting the decision now you were on his doorstep, wondering what he’d think. You worked one of the toughest jobs in the world together, and you knew that he’d seen you completely black and blue after going blow for blow with unsubs in the past. Would he think this sudden effort was weird? You tried not to pace, knowing that your footsteps in the hall would alert him to your presence, but you couldn’t bring yourself to knock just yet. 

You checked your phone again. 4:45. You couldn’t spend another fifteen minutes out here overthinking, so you finally just pushed ahead and knocked. Almost as if he had been waiting on the other side of the door this entire time, Reid answered immediately, not even letting you get a third rap in before he was there standing in front of you. 

“Hi,” you said, standing there awkwardly with your hand still up, ready to knock again. 

“Hey,” he replied, smiling at you. 

You felt his eyes trail down your body, taking in your appearance. The dress you’d chosen wasn’t particularly special, just a mid-length tiered dress with bow straps. The weather was getting chillier so you’d layered it over a plain turtleneck, enjoying the added bonus of not having to conceal down your neck to mask the love bites he’d lavished upon you only a few nights prior. 

You looked at him as well, and you were pleasantly surprised by his casual wear. He was more dressed down than he was in the office, but not by much. He was still wearing slacks, and a button down shirt as well, but he’d thrown a beaten up CalTech sweater over the top of them, and he looked so cosy you wanted to bury your head in his chest. He was wearing his glasses, and you were so thankful for that, as you forgot how well they suited him, fitting him perfectly. 

“You’re early.” He said, finally breaking the silence between the two of you, drawing you out of the trance he’d kept you in while you took in the sight of him. 

“Yeah, I guess I just overestimated how long it was going to take to get here. Is that okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s great, totally fine. Come in.” He moved his body to the side slightly so you could enter the door, but kept his outer arm pressed against the door so you had to duck under it, brushing past him as you went. The small contact made your entire body buzz, your heartrate picking up as you willed yourself to act natural. 

“The food should be here any minute.” He smiled as he followed you back into his apartment. “I wanted it to arrive before you got here so I could surprise you.” You turned around to face him, and you could hear the bashfulness in his voice as he made the admission. 

“Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you smiled up at him. “What did you order?” 

“I remembered you mentioned that Korean streetfood place a while back that does those spicy rice cakes and kimbap rolls, so I got us some of that. Is that okay?” 

“Sounds perfect.” You were touched that he even remembered the conversation when you yourself couldn’t even think of when it might have happened. He turned and walked further into the apartment, and you followed him this time, finally looking around and taking it all in. 

The walls were obviously lined with bookshelves, and there were books laying around in piles everywhere. The walls were painted a dark colour, which made the space feel calming, almost more intimate, and sunlight was streaming in from the open window on the back wall. 

“Sorry, it’s not much. Take a seat wherever, and I’ll grab those books I was talking about.” 

You took a seat on the couch and watched him trail around the room, picking up books from several shelves and stacks. 

“Okay, this is all of them. So the main takeaway is that it usually takes two weeks to fully recover memories from alcohol induced blackouts.” He explained, bringing you a stack at least eight books high. 

“Spencer, did you read all of these last night?” You asked. 

“Yeah, I said I would, I thought it would help.” 

“Spencer,” you took his hand into yours as he set the books on the floor and flopped down to the couch beside you. “I really appreciate you putting in all this effort to help us, but you could’ve just come home and relaxed, you know. Our case was long and tough, and now all of this, you deserve a break.” You stroked your thumb over the back of his hand, trying to make the gesture calm and reassuring. 

“I know, I wanted to do this. I want to remember what happened between us,” he whispered the words softly, not needing to fill the space with much sound as you’d crept closer and closer together since he’d returned. 

“So, uh, two weeks then, is that it, we just have to wait for the memories to return?” you asked quietly, letting go of the small moment you’d shared to get back to the task at hand. 

“It seemed so, but there are some other more general tips we could implement that could help us piece together what happened. We might at least be able to figure out who our witnesses were.” 

You felt almost guilty then, but you kept your mouth shut. You’d decided the night before that you wouldn’t tell Reid about Penelope. At least not yet. You wanted the time first to see if he could possibly feel the same way about you before you worked up the courage to let him in on what you had learnt. 

“Yeah, I’m open to try anything. Within reason, that is.” 

“Great! I was thinking at first that maybe we could do a cognitive interview, but as we only have each other to work with, I thought that might make some of our answers more biased and not garner effective results. But we could still try to jog our memories by working out some of the same emotions, doing some things we could have done that night, and seeing if any of it rings a bell?” 

“Some of the things we did that night?” 

“Yeah,” he repled. 

“Like… like make out or get handcuffed to a bed?” You enjoyed watching the flush creep up his neck, and his eyes go wide as he struggled to backtrack on that one. 

“No, no! I mean, unless you want to, or you think it would help?” It was your turn to be left speechless, your mouth suddenly not complying with your brain as you begged yourself to respond somehow. All you could muster was a glance down at his lips that lingered a bit too long, your body slowly creeping forward. 

He noticed and moved closer towards you as well, letting his hand grasp your waist as you got caught in his atmosphere. 

“It’s worth a try, right? To regain our memories.” He supplied you with the words, letting you stay silent as your lips grew closer and closer together, seconds away from taking your breath away forever. 

A loud rap at the door and a shout of “delivery” had the two of you suddenly bouncing away from each other, Reid scrambling to the door to collect the food, while you stood up awkwardly and tried to pretend there was something really interesting on his bookshelf that had caught your attention all of a sudden. 

For the Nth time in so many days, you found yourself trying to convince your heart to beat a little quieter, and you managed to get yourself under control as he returned with the food.

“I’m sorry, I lost track of time…” he trailed off as you nodded, joining him back at the couch as he began unpacking the food. 

“It’s totally fine, we should eat anyways, trust me when I say this stuff doesn’t taste even half as good cold.” You smiled at him, but it didn’t go quite to your eyes. You really wanted to kiss him, and you were really doing your best to control your disappointment, not wanting to show off how desperate for him you were. 

“Well, you’re in luck, because you now get to witness one of my only flaws,” he said, fishing out two sets of chopsticks from the delivery bag. “I am absolutely terrible with chopsticks.” 

You giggled at him and grabbed the pair he offered you, letting out a dramatic fake gasp. “And you only tell me after we get married? That’s it, I want a divorce,” you laugh, and the two of you settle down into a comfortable silence as you begin your meal. 

–X– 

Two hours later, and you’re still no closer to locking lips with the man than you were earlier. You’d had a nice time talking with him over the food, both of you sitting like kids on the floor as you ate over his coffee table. He’d told you about a Korean film festival he’d attended a few years back, one of many international film festivals he’d been to, and you sat and listened, in awe of the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something that excited him. You hoped that one day, he’d talk about you in that same way. 

You helped him clean up and settled back onto the couch, where he’d mentioned having a copy of one of the films that had since been subtitled, and you ended up in another movie marathon.

The movie was good, but his presence next to you was even better. He’d stretched out his arms on the couch behind you, letting you snuggle up into his side as you pulled your legs up and under you, screwing yourself up in a comfortable little ball, burrowing into him for warmth. He was a fire beside you, and you wished you were bold enough to push further into him, to drag your hands across his skin and feel even more of him, continuing the exploration from earlier. But you weren’t, and, honestly, you were tired, so you let yourself sit peacefully beside him, touching but not much, as you were lulled to sleep by the sounds of the TV. 

It was pitch black outside when you finally cracked your eyes open again, but he was still there next to you on the couch. The movie had been turned off, and so had the TV, and there was a blanket now wrapped around your legs, so he had obviously moved, but he had also come back to you. You shifted your head up to look at him and smiled. He’d picked up another book from who knows what shelf and was reading slowly so as not to wake you with the movements of his hand as he traced down the page. Your head had moved from his chest to his lap, and he held the book off to the side in one hand, his other resting protectively over your waist. He was so engrossed by his book that he hadn’t even realised you’d moved and that you were awake until you spoke to him. 

“Spencer? What time is it?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep. 

“It’s 11:30. You fell asleep during the movie and you looked like you could use the sleep.” 

“Wow, what a way to tell a girl she doesn’t look so good,” you laughed at him as he pouted down at you. 

“I didn’t mean that. Y/N, you look beautiful today. You look beautiful everyday.” 

You lifted yourself up from his lap, one hand braced on either side of his legs on the couch as you bought yourself eye-to-eye with him, your chests close enough to touch if you took a big breath in. Instead, yours were shallow as you looked up at him through heavy eyes. 

“Thank you, Spencer.” You whispered, silently begging him to close the space between the two of you. But he didn’t, instead, clearing his throat and putting his book down, breaking your eye contact. 

“I should be getting home now. It’s pretty late.” You said, standing up from the couch. He followed you up and around as you started collecting your things and organising the space you’d occupied. 

“Y/N it’s late, and you’re tired. I can’t let you drive home like that. An estimated 30% of road accidents occur due to sleep deficiency, you know.” 

“It’s fine, I don’t want to get a taxi and just leave my car here and then have to come back in the morning. I’ll be fine driving,” you said, but he softly took the keys out of your hands as you grabbed them from your bag. 

“Stay here tonight.” He said, less of a suggestion than an already established fact. You looked up at him and knew there was no changing his mind, but he continued anyway. 

“I have a spare toothbrush and some old clothes you can probably use as pajamas, and it’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before. Maybe…maybe waking up next to each other again will help jog our memories, too. We only have until the end of the week, right?” 

He looked at you expectantly, and you let out a little sigh and nodded your head, letting him guide you away to the bedroom and back into sleeping in his arms. 

--×--

🏷 @w-windy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil @shqwqrma @shits8gigs

[lemonisntreal]

Some sketches because it's been months since I drew these idiots oops☝️🥰

HI THERE. It's been a minute, sorry about that lol. I took a tiny out-of-nowhere and sorta involuntary break from the fandom because I lost interest for a second, but I'm slowlyyyy making my way back. With art, and some news about Tone Deaf for the people who are still wondering about that.

Also I see there's some asks in my box, I'll get to that eventually, I see you ;-; dw

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

As stated, I momentarily lost a bit of interest with this movie- partially because I've recently been ensnared in a new fixation that will not be named right now, but yeah. I'm digging my heels in rn, because the last thing I wanna do is abandon this project. But, also, I've clearly bitten off more than I can chew with this being a comic lmao. In over my head and going through all 5 stages of grief and currently on acceptance.

The story got bigger. Like, a LOT bigger. Too big to capture every thought in a drawing and panel it and put it out as a perfectly polished comic without seriously burning myself out. It really doesn't help that my art style evolves by the second too apparently, so I've reached a middle-ground:

Tone Deaf is going to be a fic with some comic-like segments in it. An illustrated fanfic bc I still love showing and not telling a little too much.

This'll help me not only get stuff out faster, but also to help me fill in the gaps I didn't know how to draw with just text. So I can focus on just drawing the juicy shit. This also means it'll all be collected over on Ao3 in a neat little package, and I honestly prefer that over having a bunch of posts of pages that might be hard to find. So yeah, that's the plan.

Another bonus is that the frames can now be a lot more polished and nice looking [in glorious color] rather than hastily mashed together due to my bad habit of going overboard on singular frames without realizing it.

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

Tldr; Tone Deaf is technically still gonna be a comic, it's just now gonna be supplemented with word-based fic mixed in because I made the project way too fucking big [the first Act has like 20 chapters I'm going to literally die]. Also it's gonna be on Ao3 and I'll probably be posting all the art here alongside any updates I make so huzzah! Help me :>

[phantomarine]

Hey what were you trying to say in your “it gets good at page 1001” post

Was it more of a comment directed at yourself ( self degradation), is it satire about perfectionism,

Is it supposed to be inspirational for Beginners webcomic creators, or we’re you just in a bad mood?

More of a warning against self-sabotage, because I see it so much. Sometimes it's tied to perfectionism, sometimes it's the opposite - people surrendering to imperfection when they don't really have to.

Creator chat incoming. I'll put it under the deelybob for anyone who wants to read it 👇

I've been in the webcomic sphere for several years now and I've seen so many people introduce their comic with 'I know it's very long and not easy to read, and I won't be going back and changing anything about what I've already made - but please critique it so I can make the rest of the pages better and attract a bigger audience from now on.'

And that's a hard thing to respond to. If a reader can't get through all those existing pages without being confused or bored, then how can they get to the good stuff that lies past them?

So much of gaining an audience is about actively making it easy to 'fall into' a work. Without that easy entry point, it's always going to be an uphill battle to build an audience, no matter how good the later chapters get. There are outliers, but most webcomics won't be those outliers, especially with thousands of them available nowadays. Some people love the grind, but most people will jump to a new tab and try to find something less frustrating.

And webcomic creation is particularly cursed by its very nature. Creators are hesitant to go back and edit pages, even once they've figured out more details about their craft or story structure. It's mostly because of the seeming permanence of it all - the art takes ages and the words feel unchangeable if even one other person has read them. To go back and edit is to publicly admit your failings, right? That's how it feels. What do you MEAN you didn't get it right the first time? You were supposed to do it live, and do it PERFECTLY!

But ideally it shouldn't be any different than prose writing, which is ALL ABOUT finding the story in those edits. And because your story is digital, you can go back and change things whenever you feel like it. A webcomic is fluid.

And if you're thinking 'I should just redraw my whole first chapter' - NO! Hell no, old art can be a part of the appeal! It's far more about finding little tricks to convey your story/characters more clearly. I have read some first chapters with janky art that made me fall completely in love with the story and cast. It's not about the art - as with all things comic-related, it's about conveyance.

Examples I've seen and some I've used myself: A single extra page with a meaningful interaction can solidify the theme of a character's arc. One additional 5-to-10-page scene can help add visual context for an offscreen event where there was none before. Adding a map can tell people where the characters currently are. Changing a character design can help if they get often confused with another character. Redoing your lettering to make it more legible is a huge one too.

In the end, I just don't want people to be afraid of small edits. When I got feedback about the bad clarity of my own work, I knew it would take some time to fix those problems. It wasn't fun to think about or to do, but I'm glad I did it in the end - because it would have limited my audience tremendously. With just a bit of extra effort, I opened a door that wasn't there before, and it now leads more people even more easily to 'the good stuff.'

tl;dr You started your webcomic for a reason, and you're learning more things about its characters, story, and craft every day. Don't be afraid to go back to old pages and inject some of that wisdom through editing. Even a little can go a long way.

***Caveat: If your goal is to just create chaotically, with no goal of gaining an audience, you are a wild and free little thing, and I am in awe of you. This whole rant doesn't apply to you, and you are stronger than me.

[sapphire-writes]

Ch. 5: Safe (finale)

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter

summary: The culmination of the haunting of Harrenhal. Secrets are revealed.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: ANGST, grief, possession, mentions and descriptions of death, suffocation, claustrophobia, car accident resulting in death, home invasion, ghosts, spooky things, fighting, blood, spiders

note: some things are revealed, and some are left for you to rattle around with and ponder! Happy Halloween my loves! 🎃 👻

banner made by the fantastic @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange! thank you again for making this for me, I've appreciated it so much!

The drive home is filled with comfortable silence. The rain has changed from a torrential downpour to a light drizzle; steam rising off the blacktop curling toward the sky like smoke. The back of the car is full of shopping bags. It was hard to choose only one doll, and Aemond was insistent that Jaehaera should have one of her choosing; thus resulting in the purchase of one of each. 

It was past suppertime by the time you’d returned to the grounds, the sky turning a pale purple as the sun sank over the horizon. 

The house was quiet as you entered. Aemond hurried himself upstairs to check on Helaena and you made yourself busy in the kitchen. You found some leftovers and plated them before putting on the kettle. 

You turn at the sound of footsteps. Aemond’s eye is wide, and he nods as you acknowledge him. 

“Everything alright?” you ask, and he nods again more forcefully.

“Yes, she’s just with Maelor now in her room,” he tells you, “Jaehaera is in the nursery. Everything’s…alright.” He says it like he can’t believe it’s true.

“Sit,” you tell him, “You should eat.”

Aemond does as he’s told, sitting in a chair and rubbing his face. 

“I’m so relieved,” he admits, “I didn’t…I was a bit unsure…” Aemond sighs then, leaning back in his chair, “Well she hasn’t been keen to interact with him since….”

“Since Jaehaerys,” you finish his sentence for him.

“Yes,” he agrees, “Since Jaehaerys.”

How much do you push? You’re not even sure what this means now that you and Aemond have slept together. How much should you know? You place a plate in front of him, before sitting down at the table as well.

How much do you want to know?

“What happened to him?” you ask, nervous to broach the subject.

You’d read a bit online about what had happened, but there were little details made public. About anything to be honest. The Targaryens were quite secretive. 

“Helaena….” Aemond begins, “It was terrible. A home invasion. It happened right in front of her…” Aemond sighs, “I just want her to be safe. I’ve never been more scared than on that night. I thought I’d lost them all.”

Aemond rubs a hand over his face, closing his eyes.

“He thought he was hiding,” Aemond says softly, “Like a game. Helaena told him to go hide and he did. But…” Aemond swallows before continuing, “No one could find him. Long after the police had been there. Not until.”

Nausea rolls through you, discomfort sitting like a weight in your stomach. 

“Where was he?”

“He’d gotten into the attic somehow, locked himself in a chest,” Aemond says, wiping a tear escaping his eye, “The coroner said he’d most likely fallen asleep. That the lack of oxygen wasn’t…it wasn’t a painful way to go.”

You can’t help the small, pained gasp that leaves you and you rush to cover your mouth with your hand, tears welling in your eyes. Just picturing little Jaehaera, you can’t even imagine something like that happening to her. 

“And it was so soon after Alys,” he admits, “I wasn’t..I wasn’t myself. I don’t think I could have survived it. If Helaena…”

“Alys….she was pregnant, wasn’t she?” you ask, speaking very slowly.

Aemond gives you a curt nod, fingers tapping the table.

“She was,” he admits, “We weren’t….it wasn’t planned. But we were happy.”

You listen to him talk, focusing on the movement of his mouth. 

“Car accident,” he murmurs, answering your unspoken question.

You nod slightly as he raises his eyes to see your reaction. There is no need to press any further on the subject of Alys. You can tell he still cares for her, that the wound has not healed. 

“When I brought the children here…the first time…the girl before you, Floris,” he begins, and you nod for him to continue, “That’s when Alys first showed herself. I thought if she had Jaehaera to look after, she’d be content.”

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Moments of confusion begin to click in your mind, the realization chilling. 

“She was, for a while,” Aemond tells you, deeply sighing, “I didn’t realize she’d…take over Floris until she tried...well,” He pauses a moment, wetting his lips before glancing up at you, “I’m sure you can imagine what happened.”

“Oh,” you answer, cheeks warming, “And did you..”

“No!" he answers quickly, "Seven hells I was embarrassed,” Aemond says, his own cheeks turning pink, “I had no feelings for her, nor her any for me. The poor girl was humiliated when she realized what Alys had tried to make her do. Left the following morning with little more than a resignation note scribbled on a napkin.”

“What does she want?” you ask, referring to his dead wife.

“I just think…” Aemond trails off, his eyes lost in thought, “I think she’s lonely. I think most of the spirits trapped here are.”

“And yet you mean to sell.”

“What would you have me do?” Aemond asks, resting his hand over his mouth, his elbow against the table.

You hold his gaze, unsure of how to answer. 

Lights shine into the kitchen, along with the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires. Someone pulled in the driveway.

“Someone’s here,” Aemond murmurs, standing.

He goes to the front door and you stay behind, cleaning up the plates. 

Voices soon grow louder as you clear the table. Not quite yelling, but raising in volume. You’re able to catch just pieces of the conversation; Aemond and someone else.

“She’s owed it,” Daemon’s voice makes your blood run cold, “More than you.”

“Alys was my wife,” Aemond argues, “This is what she wanted. I’m respecting her wishes.”

“It’s rather convenient that all those documents were lost,” Daemon continues, “Harwin wanted this place to go to Rhaenyra. To the boys.”

“Then he should have made the arrangements before…”

“Yes,” Daemon says slowly, “I suppose he should have. However, it is rather curious. He returns to Harrenhal House to get his will squared away and then…” Daemon trails off.

“What are you implying?” Aemond asks cooly.

“I’m only being curious,” Daemon insists, a playful edge to his voice, “Though I’m sure you’ll get a pretty penny for this old place. Ghosts and all.”

Aemond doesn’t answer, and you hear Daemon bark out a sharp laugh.

“Come now, lēkianna (nephew), have a sense of humor.”

“I want you gone,” Aemond quips.

“Yes, well, we all want things, don’t we?” Daemon asks, the smile evident in his tone. 

You take another step and a floorboard creaks causing you to wince. 

“Ah. That’ll be your little friend,” Daemon muses, missing nothing, “But before I take my leave, Rhaenyra asked about Helaena.”

“She’s fine,” Aemond snaps, “I’m taking care of her.”

You back up into the kitchen at the sound of footsteps. Daemon appears not a moment later, a half smile on his face. He’s dressed in a black button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Aemond stands behind him in the doorway, watching closely. 

“Kettle on?” Daemon asks you, violet eyes narrowed. You give him a curt nod. “Be a dear, won’t you?”

You glance at Aemond, meeting his eyes. He looks exhausted but tilts his chin giving you the silent go-ahead. Turning from Daemon you grab a mug and prepare him a cup of tea. Daemon walks around the kitchen as you do so; you can feel his presence behind you. Aemond remains in the doorway his hands curled into anxious fists at his side. You try not to let your hands tremble as you offer the cup to Daemon, turning away from the counter. 

He takes it, offering a small smile in return as he sips from the steaming cup. 

“She’d be better off with Rhaenyra,” Daemon says, not ready to end the previous conversation, “Not like your crowd could keep anyone safe-”

Aemond lurches forward, smashing Daemon’s cup from his hand and sending it to the floor. It shatters and pieces of the mug explode against the kitchen floor. Daemon merely smiles, as though the display was nothing more than a child’s tantrum. 

“Do you deny it?” Daemon taunts, “Be angry all you want; I only speak the truth.”

“Out,” Aemond hisses.

Daemon smiles crookedly, fire in his violet eyes. They stare at each other, neither refusing to back down first. They’re quite similar, you’ve noticed. Perhaps they once got along.

“The deed to the house,” Daemon tells him, “Then I’ll go.”

“You’ll go now,” Aemond says, grabbing Daemon by the shirt, and dragging him towards the door. 

“Aemond!” you yell, as they push through the front door. 

Daemon laughs as he pushes him, holding his hands out in feigned surrender. You’re almost sure Daemon could stop him if he truly wanted to; the older man is built with more muscle, less lithe and lean than Aemond is. You follow close behind as they make it out the door and down the front steps.

“Stop it!”

The two men continue fighting; they tumble down into the front yard, the rain-soaked grass causing them to lose their footing. The air is misty, the rain falling gently, steadily. 

It’s a blur of fists and silver hair, Daemon’s fist connects with the side of Aemond’s head and red explodes into the air like drops of rain. His ring has cut Aemond’s temple, blood trickling down the side of his face, a brilliant scarlet against porcelain flesh. 

“Stop it!” you yell, but the men ignore you continuing their fighting.

Aemond grapples with Daemon, spitting at him as he manages to wriggle out of his grip. You watch as Aemond gets the upper hand, his fist connecting with Daemon’s face. There’s blood on his hands, blood on his rain-soaked shirt and he keeps punching him again, again, again.

“Aemond!” you yell, your voice raw.

His eyes snap up, looking at you standing in the rain watching him. Daemon laughs below him, a slow giggle that grows in volume. 

Aemond rises off the ground, running a hand over his slicked hair and walking toward you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I’m sorry---” You wrap your arms around him, holding his lean form against you, hand pressed to the back of his head. 

“It’s alright,” you tell him, “It’s alright.”

You stand there holding him as Daemon sits up, spitting a wad of blood and saliva into the ground as he stands. Rain soaks through your clothes, Aemond’s head heavy against your shoulder. 

“This isn’t over,” Daemon says begrudgingly, walking over to his car, “If you won’t sign it over, she’ll put in an offer herself. And Helaena….” Daemon clicks his tongue, “Give her my regards.”

Daemon runs a hand over his hair, opening the door to his car before starting the engine. The tires crunch against the gravel as he speeds off.

“You’re freezing,” Aemond says. You’d hardly noticed you’d started shivering, your teeth rattling against each other. Aemond’s body pressed against yours, the only warmth you feel. Aemond takes your hands in his, squeezing gently. “Go upstairs, make sure Helaena is still alright?”

You force a nod, unable to stop your shaking. Your eyes are locked on his face, at the drying blood on the right side. Raindrops gather around the congealing blood, pink tears rolling down his cheek and onto his neck.

“I’ll get cleaned up,” he says softly, “Let’s go inside.”

You head up the stairs, hurrying to Helaena’s room as Aemond returns to the kitchen. You give the door a gentle knock before opening without a response from within. Perhaps she’s sleeping.

The room is dark, moonlight streaming in through the windows. 

“Helaena!” you call, stepping forward but stopping yourself.

She stands on her balcony, her silver hair blowing softly behind her. The rain sprinkles into the room, pearly dew drops gathering on the hardwood floor like glass marbles. The gate of the railing is thrown wide open so that if she took a step forward she would plummet to the ground below. Your heart hammers in your chest, adrenaline warming you even though you’re soaked to the bone. 

“Shhh,” Helaena murmurs, pointing to the bassinet that balances on the railing. Maelor is sound asleep within it. A breeze rolls through and you shiver.

“Helaena,” you say more softly, struggling to keep your voice even.

“He’s sleeping,” she says, staring at Maelor, “Isn’t he lovely?”

You take a cautious step forward, your shoes squelching as you do so. 

“It’s cold, Hel,” you say, struggling to keep your voice light and even, “Why don’t you come inside?”

She ignores you, still gazing at her sleeping son. 

“He looks so much like him,” she muses, brushing some soft hair, “He sleeps better. Jaehaerys never slept this easy as a baby.” She smiles softly, the back of her fingers almost stroking his cheek, “So soft. Perfect. A little angel, don’t you think?”

You nod, unable to speak, your throat tight with fear. Helaena hums happily and Maelor softly coos in his sleep, his fists raised above his head. 

“He should stay like this,” Helaena murmurs, “Just safe, happy. He doesn't have a care in the world.” Her fingers dance along his face, not quite touching him, “There’s so much pain ahead of him. So much hurt. Scraped knees, broken bones. Loss. Heartbreak.” She laughs quietly, still swaying in the wind. “I can fix that.”

Fear stabs through you like a knife between your ribs. “Hel..”

“I can,” she says, eyes meeting yours, “Right now. Spare him any of that. Isn’t that what a mother should do? Protect her baby from harm?”

You swallow.

“I don’t want him to hurt,” she says, tears streaming down her face, “That’s all.”

“I know,” you tell her, “And you can try, and you can love him and hold him, and teach him, but…you can’t control the world.”

“But I can control this,” she insists, “Right now. I can choose.”

“Helaena,” you beg, “You don’t want this, not really. You want your baby to live. You want Maelor to have a life.”

Her lip wobbles, and tears spill down her cheeks soaking the fabric of her nightgown.

“But ... .but…I don’t wish this pain. Why?” she asks, looking at you suddenly, “Why can’t it stop?”

“That’s the price we pay,” you tell her, “That’s the deal you make with the world.”

“Rotten luck,” she says, laughing bitterly, “This family is cursed. We brought him into the world with a sword hanging above his head. It’s only a matter of time before…” Helaena winces, pressing her palm against her head, “My head….” she says, voice breaking softly, “It always hurts.”

“Maybe he’ll break it,” you insist, “Generational curses don’t have to go on forever. The cycle can end.”

“I suppose,” Helaena muses, giving you a wry smile, “You have lots of hope.”

“I don’t--”

“It’s good,” she interrupts, “Aemond does too. You’re good for him. He has eyes…though I don’t think he can see.” She turns and steps inside.

You take a hesitant step forward reaching to take Maelor, steadying the bassinet as it wobbles. Helaena allows it, walking past you into the room as you scoop the sleeping babe into your arms. 

“This feels familiar,” Helaena says, glancing back at the balcony. A breeze rolls through, making you shiver, but Helaena stands unmoving. “Like…it’s happened before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want a book,” Helaena muses, ignoring your question, walking toward the door, “I’d like a different story.” She leaves her bedroom door open as she turns down the hall in the direction of the library. 

You steady yourself, taking a deep breath before walking to the nursery. Jaehaera isn’t in her bed when you arrive. A chill rolls through you. You place Maelor in his crib, closing the nursery door. A giggle is heard then, echoing through the hall.

“Jaehaera?” you call, walking slowly down the hall.

The giggling continues, along with the sound of running feet. Suddenly, the hair on the back of your neck rises and you turn.

Alys is in front of you, her green eyes bright. Shock pours through you, fear running through your veins like ice water.

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly, “I didn’t…”

You take an unconscious step back, adrenaline spiking at the perceived threat. 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she says softly, “I just thought..” She trails off, “He’s been meaning to leave for some time. I tried to make him stay…even with Helaena..” Alys shakes her head, “I thought if we could have a baby. Our baby. I just wanted him to stay, that’s all.”

Tears began to well in your eyes. 

“He can’t go,” she tells you, “Not the way he wants to.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

Alys grimaces. 

“He can’t leave the way he wants,” she repeats, slowing her words.

What? “But Alys,” you tell her, “I don’t understand..please..”

“You know,” she tells you, backing up into the darkness until her glowing green eyes are all you can see—green flames in the darkness. “You’re clever. Help him see.”

Help him see.

Help him see what? But Alys has gone, evaporating into darkness.   

He can’t leave the way he wants to.

You walk down the hall, turning into the library. It appears to be empty and you crane your head around the darkened corners of the room, your mind spinning. 

He can’t leave the way he wants to.

“Helaena?” you call.

The way he wants to.

“Jaehaera?”

Aemond calls your name and you turn as he enters the library, his pace brisk.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand, “Grab the baby. And Jaehaera, we’re leaving.”

He pulls you forward, and you nearly lose your footing, his hand holding yours tightly.

“Now?” you ask, your tone concerned. 

“We’ll stay somewhere in town,” he says, “It’ll be fine for a little while, then I’ll call my mother and figure something out with the house.” His voice borders on hysterical, “We’ve got to get them out. We’ve gotta get out now. Before something happens.”

“Before what happens?” you question. He can’t leave the way he wants. “Aemond wait, stop--” 

“What?” he says pausing, “I’ll get Helaena and we’ll go. It’s you and me.” He places his hands on your cheeks. “We’ll all be alright.”

His eyes are wide and he’s breathing heavily. You place your hands on top of his.

“Something’s wrong,” you tell him, “Something’s not right, we can’t.”

“Why?” Aemond says, “We can, I promise you we can let… let's just go-”

“Aemond-”

“Didn’t I tell you?”

Your eyes snap towards the door at the sound of her voice. Helaena stands in the doorway, her hair and nightgown dry. Her eyes are softer, a small smile on her face. 

“He’s so hopeful,” she says softly, as Aemond watches her, “Even now.”

A chill rolls down your spine as she walks into the room. Even the way she walks is whimsical like she’s floating rather than walking. 

“Hel-” you begin, but your throat grows tight with emotion.

“Don’t,” she says softly, “It’s alright. I wasn’t sure before but…he knows. I think he’s known for some time.”

He knows I’m dead, she means. 

“He just doesn’t want to believe it.”

This feels familiar, she’d said when standing on her balcony.

It all makes sense. 

Dead from the beginning.

“I used to have so many dreams about this place,” she muses, looking up toward the ceiling, “So much suffering within these walls. Death lives within the foundation of this house. It is no wonder things are this way. When I came here….” she trails off, wetting her lips, “Everything was loud. So loud in my head. Louder than it had ever been before.”

“You died,” you tell her, piecing the story together, “When you…when you first came to Harrenhal.” Helaena smiles at you softly, her eyes sad. 

“It was too loud,” she says softly, “I was grieving. It all was too much.”

“Aemond said it wasn’t you…..the screaming that night in the hall…but it was, wasn’t it?”

She doesn’t answer, her eyes just continue to flicker between you and her younger brother.

“Helaena,” Aemond says, speaking softly, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve…I should’ve-”

“Shhhh valonqar,” she says, stepping forward, stroking his cheek, “There was nothing you could have done.”

“I didn’t want this,” Aemond insists, “I just wanted...I just wanted you to be safe.”

“I am,” Helaena insists, “I’m safe. It’s so quiet now.” She looks up at the night sky, smiling to herself. “My head isn’t as loud.” 

“How can that be?” Aemond asks.

“Alys meant well,” Helaena tells him, pursing her lips, “She only meant to keep you here.”

“Alys,” you realize aloud, “It was her?”

“Sometimes ... .she'd get in my head…meddle about,” Helaena says softly, “Sometimes….it’s easy to forget. Time isn’t really the same now. I would walk for hours, waking up so confused.” Her voice trails off before she turns to you. “You’ll look after them. All of them.”

You nod. Of course, you will. 

“Helaena….” you say softly, “But how…”

“I’d always been sensitive, even in life,” she says softly, “Kepa called me his dreamer. It followed me in death as well I suppose.” She meets your eyes. “I don’t know who used me to speak with you. Someone here. Another spirit is not ready to show itself. Or perhaps they just don’t want to.” She sighs

You nod, unable to speak.

“I don’t want to leave you here,” Aemond says, “I don’t…I can’t do this without you.”

“It’s alright,” Helaena says, touching his cheek, “I’m here.” She presses a hand to his chest, and he places his on top of hers. “I’m with you. Do you remember what mother always said to us?”

“The invisible string,” Aemond whispers.

“It follows the people we love, connects us,” Helaena says softly, “Whenever you think of me, you pull on that, and no matter where I am, I’ll know. I am not gone. It’s just different now. But I’ll always be with you.” She smiles, “Avy jorrāelan.”

Aemond smiles through his tears, a soft laugh breaking through. He kisses the back of his sister’s hand. 

“Avy jorrāelan,” he says softly, “So much, Helaena, so much.”

She presses her hand against his cheek.

“Kepus?” Jaehaera’s voice calls, “Miss Gevie?”

Helaena smiles softly at the sound of her daughter’s voice. Jaehaera enters the library, eyes widening at the sight. Helaena walks over to her, kneeling.

“It’s time for me to go,” she says softly.

“I don’t want you to,” Jaehara says, her voice small, “Alys said…she said we could all stay.”

“No,” Helaena says, voice soft but firm, “No, you, my sweet girl, must go.” She brushes some hair from Jaehaera’s face, tears welling in her eyes, “There is so much world for you to see. So much life for you to live.”

“But what about you?” Jaehaera asks, tears falling down her cheeks, “What about you muña?”

Helaena smiles through her tears, her voice breaking, “My journey ends here.”

“No!” Jaehaera insists, stomping her foot.

Helaena presses a hand to her heart, bringing the other to Jaehaera’s. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you inhale a ragged breath and Aemond takes your hand in his. You hadn’t realized you were crying as well until he wiped a tear from your cheek.

“I am always with you,” she says softly, “Do you hear me? Always.”

Jaehaera places her hand on top of Helaena’s nodding despite her tears. Helaena pulls her close, embracing her tightly, kissing the top of her head, and smoothing her hair. She whispers something you do not catch. 

Jaehaera kisses her mother’s cheek before hurrying over to you. She hugs your legs, holding on tightly. 

“Let Rhaenyra have the house,” Helaena tells Aemond, “Tell Daemon. If it is Harrenhal they truly want, give it to them. This family has seen enough fighting for a lifetime.”

Aemond lowers his head. 

Helaena turns suddenly, eyes bright.

“I hear him again,” she says smiling, “He likes to hide, but I always find him.” She turns back to you all one final time, “We’ll be okay Aemond. Alys and I, we’ll look after one another. Be happy.”

Aemond stifles a sob and Helaena is gone. Jaehaera clings to you, pressing further against you and the three of you sink to the floor, holding onto one another. 

A Few Weeks Later

Summerhall house is bright; the walls of the first floor are made entirely of windows that overlook the mountains and the Dornish Marches. The air is turning colder with the promise of autumn, but that hasn’t stopped Jaehaera from playing outdoors.

A soft meow makes you glance down as Morghul rubs against your calf. The black kitten meows once more before softly padding down the steps and into the grass. She appeared to Jaehaera soon after relocating to Summerhal, never straying far from her side.

A swing hangs from a large oak tree and she loves to play on it. Though now she rests below the trunk of the tree. You’ll check on her in a moment, once Maelor’s eyes flutter shut and you pass him into Aemond’s arms. 

You rise from your seat on the porch and walk down the steps. The grass is warm and soft under your bare feet. The afternoon sunlight bathes the yard in warm golden light.

“Everything alright?” you ask Jaehaera who simply smiles, showing you what she’d found.

“A spider,” she says, “I’m not afraid of them anymore.”

“No?”

“Muña wouldn’t want me to be afraid.”

You smile, watching as she releases the creature against the trunk of the tree, watching as it scurries away. 

“No,” you agree, placing a kiss on top of Jaehaera’s head, “I suppose she wouldn’t.”

Jaehaera returns to her swing and asks you to push her. You agree, letting her laughter wash over you. You understand Helaena more and more each day. You only want them to be happy, only want them to be safe and loved.

The world may be full of unknowns, but you and Aemond are not. Here, with you they are safe, they are loved.

This may be enough.

note: As always when I finish a series thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! For reading my work, for your lovely reblogs, and for your thoughtful comments, I cannot thank you enough for your love and support! This has been an absolute blast to write and share with you! Until next time besties, I love you all so much, and Happy Halloween! 🎃

ACP taglist: @aebi12 | @lokiofasgard12 | @darkenchantress | @echos-muses | @kaelatargaryen | @zenka69 | @heavenly1927 | @boofy1998 | @snh96 | @zillahvathek | @minttea07 | @promnightbinbaby | @marihoneywk | @duds31 |@aemondsdelight

bold means I could not tag!

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[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 5 - MONTH 4 - COMMUNITY

FIRST - PREV - NEXT

It took another month after my check-in, after starting the correct dosage, for my transformation to stabilize and stop hurting all the time. My bones have settled down, my tail is getting long enough to get in the way which is honestly more exciting than annoying, and I've even got little bitty claws pushing out of my fingers! The mechanisms for retracting and extending them haven't grown yet, though, so I just… am sharp now.

It's actually become kind of a bloody inconvenience, and I use the term 'bloody' very literally. The first few times I went to go scratch an itch, I'd end up drawing blood, and having to go clean myself up and put on a bandage. I thought about clipping my claws, but I have no idea if that's going to stunt their development or have consequences when I can finally retract them, and it's not something that seems worth bothering Dr. Erian about. The biggest problem is that sometimes I'll move my arms in my sleep, and there's no way of telling what'll be in the way. I've already had to conduct emergency repairs on three plushies, and my bedsheets are kind of a write-off.

I was a little afraid of the pain subsiding, if I'm being honest, because it means going back to work, which means existing in a public space with my half-human half-something-else face. It's still cold enough that I can wear a scarf and toque over the more off-putting features, but that won't last much longer and it's not something I can do indoors. I'm just going to have to face the truth…

I don't pass as human anymore.

My first day working in-person again, my supervisor walks into my office with the intention of welcoming me back, but what actually happens is he stands in the doorway dumbfounded before asking, "Now what in the world happened to your face??"

For all the time I had, I never actually managed to think of a clever lie, so I just tell him it's a side effect of some new meds I'm taking. Technically not a lie, if you ignore the word 'side'. Fortunately, he doesn't ask what's wrong with me. I'm not looking forward to having to tell someone who doesn't get it that Being Human counts as Something Wrong.

Work has been alright, though, if a bit dull. My coworkers mostly leave me to my own devices to get things done.

It's doing anything else that becomes an issue.

I get lots of stares in the grocery store or the mall. I'm not sure whether it's the inhuman face that does it, or the fact that I nearly always wear t-shirts and my fur is now growing up to my wrists. I think it's growing faster now that it's run up against peak arm hair territory. Either way, I basically don't dare set foot outside without my partner in tow. Nobody's tried anything yet, but I see them shying away from me, and just the other day a little kid called me a 'monster'. It's… still eating at me.

I never could take being the centre of attention.

It's not all doom and gloom, though. I don't know whether the tactile senses of my hands have changed or it's something psychological, but that thing cats do where they knead something with their claws? "Making biscuits" I've heard it called?

It feels soooo niiiice.

Last weekend I went to take an afternoon nap, and ended up spending a solid half hour just squishing my blahaj with my hands (or would that be 'paws' now?) All the stress from the previous week just… melted away. It was like an ASMR video for my sense of touch.

Is it bad that I'm really enjoying being a little more cat-brained?

I've also become RAVENOUSLY hungry. As in, "destroy an entire rotisserie chicken in one sitting" hungry. The meat cravings have kicked in, HARD, and I've basically lost my appetite for bread and pasta. You really don't realize how much human food is grain-based until you stop wanting to eat it…

All the big changes hitting at once are getting hard to withstand sometimes. There are nights when I go to bed absolutely euphoric about how it's finally happening, I'm finally embodying everything I'm supposed to be! But there are also nights when I cry myself to sleep because oh gods, what was I thinking, why am I doing this to myself, I look and feel like a godsdamned circus freak, and it really doesn't help to remember that white tigers are pretty much universally victims of inbreeding and abuse.

In a moment of weakness, I catch myself eyeing the remaining contents of the HRT bottle. I ran some numbers a little while back and figured out that at the recommended dose, this bottle is an entire 18-month treatment, give or take. Well, 12 months now, I guess, since I was accidentally taking a triple dose for the first three months. The fact that it's a diluted Fifteen Minute formula means that if I just brace myself and chug the entire rest of the bottle, that would finish out the treatment in one go, wouldn't it? It… probably wouldn't even hurt as much as doing Fifteen-Minute from the start, right?

My partner walks in on me holding it and staring at it, and asks what I'm doing, so I explain my thought process. They just silently put one hand on mine and use the other to gently remove the bottle from my grasp.

"But I -", I begin to protest.

"No."

"I keep getting stared at and -"

"No."

"That one little girl called me a monster!"

"No."

I start crying, and I can't help raising my voice. "If I just finish it all NOW then maybe -"

"NO."

They set the bottle down and pull me into a tight hug, pinning my upper arms to my sides. "I love you very much, and I don't want to see you hurt yourself. You went into this knowing it was gonna suck for a while, and right now it sucks, but it's not worth risking your life over."

I don't have a counter-argument. I just lower my face onto their shoulder and sob. "I just… I don't want to keep doing this alone anymore! I need… I need help! Support, guidance, SOMETHING!!" I cling to them, digging my fingers, my claws, into their back. "I don't want to be the only one…"

"You aren't.", they reassure me quietly. "Didn't you tell me yourself that there's a bunch of people doing this? We even saw a whole crowd of them at that seafood place."

"Y-yeah, but I don't know anybody local!"

"Then find them online. It's better than nothing, isn't it?"

"It's… It's just not the same…"

They pat me on the back. "Just… try. For me."

They let me cry into their shoulder for another several minutes before I let them go.

Back at my computer, I sit down and start searching for a humanity removal therapy support group. A Discord server, a Facebook group, a Tumblr sideblog, ANYTHING. Gods help me, I'm even looking to TWITTER for help. Even as a human I was a solitary creature, and tigers are about as solitary a creature as they come, so it takes a lot of effort to bring myself to reach out. I end up doing it right before I go to bed, just firing off a few quick messages to some figures in the community, then forcing myself not to look at social media the rest of the night. For all my growth, I'm still a bit terrified of being noticed.

By the time I wake up, some of them have gotten back to me. I… wasn't expecting it to be so fast.

It turns out there's a private group chat where a bunch of them hang out on the regular to talk about what they're going through. They sound open to the idea of bringing me in, but want to get to know me a little better first. I don't blame them for wanting to keep to themselves. I get to talking with one of them, a lamia-to-be, and through our conversations I get the distinct impression that, well, I'm not alone in feeling alone. Somehow I manage to convince her I'm worth knowing and having around, and she sends me an invite to the group chat server.

Time to face the mortifying ordeal of being known.

I go through all the typical new-to-the-server motions. I read the rules page - it's the usual "don't be a dick" type stuff, with some bonus content applicable to our unique situation, like not stereotyping based on species, and a reminder to not present your own experiences with humanity removal as universal fact. Then into the welcome channel to type up a quick introduction:

"Hey all, I'm Alexis, transfem (she/her), 38, 4 months white tiger HRT. Interests include gaming, tabletop RPGs, costuming, and witchcraft. Looking forward to getting to know everyone!"

A few people react with heart emojis and tiger emojis. Discord only has the standard orange tiger as an emoji, but, you know, close enough. One person reacts with a witch emoji, and it gives me a laugh.

There's a channel for serious questions about the transformation process, so I decide to hop in and fire off a quick one:

"Not that I mind this, but why am I so hungry for meat now? It hit around the 3 month mark and now I can eat an entire roast chicken in one go"

Over the course of the next hour or so, a few people weigh in. The consensus is that my body is entering a 'bulking up' phase, and needs a ton of protein to generate muscle. Just out of curiosity I go to do an online search to confirm something, and yeah, tigers are a lot more proportionally muscular than humans are. Someone else suggests taking calcium supplements to help with bone growth, unless I'm prepared to drink a LOT of milk. I am in fact prepared for that, but it couldn't hurt to drop by the pharmacy.

It also turns out that the server isn't just for people who have started their HRT, but for aspiring humanity-removers as well. There's even a channel specifically for advice navigating the whole process, including how to convince your medical provider that you're for real and you won't immediately regret it when the itching/soreness/bleeding kicks in.

One of the regular posters is a teenage girl with a corvid avatar who asks a lot of questions about what it's like to become nonhuman. Surprisingly, she's not trans like most of us are, but she is queer. It sounds like she's not in a stable situation, though - she asks at one point if anyone can think of a way to get the meds without her parents noticing.

The problem is, even if that's a possibility, someone would notice when she starts sprouting black feathers and a beak.

---

(guest cameo from @ariathelamia!)

[plussizefantasia]

Broken Together

BlackCat!reader x Bucky Barnes

Chapter 5/6 : <Prev/ Next>

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Talks of violence, suggestive language

A/N: okay so I fully planned to do a smut scene but then I chickened out because I've never written one before so.... sorry. ALSO: keep your eyes peeled for the kickoff post of my 300-follower (holy shit) celebration along with chapter 3 of the Fluttering Hearts series, both will be coming out before the end of the day!

You nod a solitary nod and reach for the door handle.

“I love you.”

 That stops you cold in your tracks.

“Don’t say that.”

“That’s not really the reaction I was looking for if I’m honest.”

“Well what did you want me to say James?”

“I don’t know, really anything but don’t say that. I tell you how I’m feeling and you know that I’m not good with that feeling shit and your reaction is to tell me not to say it?”

“Jesus Bucky, I can’t ever tell with you! Two minutes ago you were giving me the silent treatment and being all pissy and now you tell me you love me? What am I supposed to do with that?!”

“I- just… I spent the whole night worrying about you, you were back there in that room all alone with those bastards and I couldn’t get to you. I just had to listen through comms and hope and pray to whatever God there is that you come out the other side.”

“Bucky, I can take care of myself.”

“I know that, really I do. I have never ever doubted that you could handle yourself but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying when you go somewhere I can’t reach you. It’s bad enough I had to watch you hanging off that asshole all night. Watching him touch you in the way I’d wanted to all night.” Bucky’s hands tighten around the wheel. You watch as he swallows something caught in his throat.“I watched and stood there like an idiot while he held you close and made you laugh and did everything I’d been dreaming about. I couldn’t look away though, as much as I wanted to becuase even a glimpse of your smile is enough to make all that shit worth it. But then I hear you being threatened, I watch you walk away with the target and not even five minutes later he pulls a gun on you? It took everyhting in me not to run to you, not to burst in and protect you with all I have.”

“I don’t need your protection-”

“I know that! Goddamn it I know that! I know that your amazing, that’s the only thing that kept me from running in there, knowing how good you are. How good my girl is at her job, she doesn’t need me, but I really fucking wish she did.”

“You’re girl? I’m not your girl James I- you don’t even like me?” 

“What?! Why the hell do you think I don’t like you?”

You scoff, “You give me shit all the time. You call me Fury’s pet and you never fail to let everyone know just how much you don’t trust me.”

“I trust you, I trust you with my whole life, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” 

“You have a funny fuckign way of showing it.” You cross your arms over your chest, this whole night scratch that day has been a total fucking emotional rollercoaster, you almost died and now here you are. The man who you love to hate and hate to love is spouting all kinds of heartfult shit and you’re reeling, I mean… what are you supposed to say to that?!

Bucky takes your silence harshly, he tries to fill the space with as many words as he can. He knows that he’s not good at this shit. He isn’t James Barnes the ladies man from the forties anymore, he’s too broken for that. But he can tell your broken too, and maybe you can be broken together? 

“When I say that I love you, I mean it. I mean that I can’t stop thinking about you, when youre not next to me it’s like i can’t breathe. When I hear you laugh or see you smile my whole world lights up. God even when you’re yelling at me an throwing pillows and shit I can’t help but feel like a goddamn wire. I don’t know when I realized it was love, if it was months ago or minutes ago but I’m not taking it back. I don’t think I can ever take it back.” Bucky ends his rant with several big breaths. The whole time he was talking, his eyes never left the road, his hands never left the wheel. 

“James, I- God fuck. I’m not a good person. I don’t deserve good things. Anyone i’ve ever been close to has told me the same shit, i’m too broken to be good to anyone.”

“Yeah. You’re broken. You’re a smart-mouth little piece of shit who doesn’t lok after herself and can’t follow a sleep schedule for the life of her and I love you.” He finally looks into your eyes.

“I don’t need a perfect girl, I don’t want a perfect girl, someone to hang off my arm and laugh at my jokes and just stand there looking pretty? I’ve had that and it gets boring really fucking fast. But you? I could spend the rest of my life trying to figure you out and I really really want to.” 

“I’m not easy, and I don’t think I ever will be.”

“I like a challenge.”

“Well,-”

“Jesus, Stop trying to talk me out of this, I want you. I want you and all the messy shit that come’s with that.”

“I’m running out of reasons anyway.”

“What does that mean… for us I guess?” 

“It means that if you can get us back to the hotel within the next five minutes I’m gonna let you see the pretty little number I have on underneath this dress.”

Bucky slammed on the gas.

_____

It took the two of you four minutes to get to the hotel, the entire time people were honking at your car weaving through traffic. You’re really fucking surprised that the two of you didn’t get pulled over. 

Four minutes is a lot of time though, especially when your nervous as hell and have a penchant for self-sabatage. You don’t know how this is going to go. This is brand new territory for you and honestly your shitting bricks right now with how nervous you are.

It’s not like you’ve never been with anyone, but Bucky is the first guy that you’ll genuinely care what happens when it’s over. Most of the guys you’ve been with before have been the type to only want something physical from you, not that you were complaining, you had needs and they were willing to fuffil them. They just didn’t want to date you, and never once had any of them used the L-word. 

You’re still reeling from Bucky’s confession. You have no idea how long he’s felt this way but the more you think about it the more it makes sense. For as long as you’ve known the man he’s been difficult to read, he build walls as easily as you do and he uses them to block out 99.99% of people in his life. 

Now that you’re really thinking about it you’re astonished at how much he told you tonight. You guess having a gun pulled on the person you care about really makes you want to tell them everything you’d been holding back.

You’d be lying if you thought that there wasn’t something you also wanted to tell Bucky when you heard the safety click off. You don’t know if love is the right word, not yet but you do know that he means just about the world to you. The only person in your life who really seems to see you and understand what you’re thinking. You’ve always liked working with Barnes, it was easy, but now you think there might be something else to it. 

Bucky pulls into a parking spot right at the front of the building and within seconds he’s by your door opening it and offering you a hand to step out.

“Eager?”

“Very.”

He pulls you out of the car but doesn’t step back, he crowds you in every sense of the word. You see and smell and think nothing but him. This close you notice the little things that you hadn’t before, like the little piece of hair that keeps falling onto his forehead, escaping the gel holding the rest of his locks back. Or the way small scars he has, one above his eyebrow, a line to the right of his lip, a little triangle under his eyes. You could spend hours studying him, he doesn’t give you that long tough,

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, moving closer to your mouth. You don’t answer, just push yourself into him. You practically melt at the little groan that falls past his lips. 

His hands fall to your hips almost instintually, the grab ahold of you firmly not willing to let you move even an inch from his hold.

His mouth moves passionalty against yours, he takes his time really trying to get to feel you, to taste you. The pulls away only enough to get air into his lungs, resting his forehead agaisnt yours. God he could kiss you for a lifetime and even a bit longer than that.

“That was…” you start.

“Yeah.” The corners of his lips turn up into a genuine smile. You love his smile even if you don’t get to see it that often. 

“James?” 

“Yeah Kitty?” He giggles… this grown ass man giggles into you.

“Take me upstairs, these people don’t need a show.” You nod your head at the gathering of people outside, trying and failing to make it look like they weren’t just staring.

“Gladly.” 

[sunny44]

Unveiling the Truth

(Ruin it part.2)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x journalist!reader

Warnings: none I guess.

Summary: You and max were always teasing each other and over the years it turned into a huge sexual tension, until the fights of all the years and the accumulated lust turned into one long night of great sex.

Previous chapter | Next chapter

After that night Max and I never talked about it again. He went on pretending that nothing had happened and so did I but the fact that I was part of his betrayal is what haunts me every day.

Ok I don't like Kelly but I did something I wouldn't want to be done to me so I feel bad.

We were at the last race of the year and it was a weekend she was here which didn't help my guilt at all.

"Are you okay?" Pierre asks slipping his arm around my shoulders giving me a hug.

"Not much."

"Do you want to talk?"

"If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?" He agrees and I pull him into a corner. "Max and I had sex."

"WHAT?" He screams and I cover his mouth with my hand. "What?"

"That's exactly what you heard."

"How?"

"Do you really want me to explain how?"

"Ew that's not what I meant. I mean how did it happen?"

"It was after the third title celebration party, I took him back to the hotel and we fucked in my room."

"My God I've been trying to get you into bed for years and you never wanted to."

"Is that really what you're thinking about right now?"

"Of course, that lucky bastard."

"Pierre I'm serious, stop thinking about me naked on top of you and concentrate."

"Now that you've said that I won't be able to concentrate."

"Forget it." I walk away annoyed and he comes right behind me but Max sees us and I know he's imagining that we did the same thing he and I did at the hotel.

...

I was walking past Redbull at night with the paddock already empty when one of the engineers asked me to go into the garage and when I did he directed me to Max's drivers room where he was inside.

"What is it?"

"May I ask what you were doing with Pierre in the corner?"

"And why does that interest you?"

"Just answer the damn question." He says irritated.

"We were talking."

"The same way you and I talked that night?"

"Where's your girlfriend anyway?"

"That doesn't matter."

"It does matter since I know she's here this weekend."

"Forget Kelly okay? Can we talk about us?"

"There is no us, that was a mistake and you shouldn't be so calm about the fact that you cheated on your girlfriend and that I helped you do it."

"I'm only calm because I don't feel the same way about her as I do about you." At this I fell silent. "She doesn't make me feel angry and want to grab you and kiss you at the same time, she doesn't make me feel good after a bad race even if I only see you in those 5 minutes of interview and she doesn't understand me like you understand do."

"Max..."

"Just say you don't feel the same way about me and I’ll pretend the best night of my life never happened and leave you alone.”

"I don't know." He takes his hands away from my face. "I never thought of you as anything other than the guy I keep picking on."

"And I'll never be anything else to you?"

"Not until you sort out your situation with her." He sighs. "I won't allow myself to feel anything for you or try to have anything with you while you're committed."

"And after that?"

"After that we're going to have to talk, because like it or not you cheated on her and as much as I was the bitch who helped you do it and that I deserve it to happen to me too, I don't want to be the next on your list."

"You're never going to be just anyone on my list, you're not even on the list, you're completely superior to anyone I've ever been involved with in my life."

"Don't say that if you don’t really mean it."

"I was serious about everything I just said."

"Okay then go find me when you sort yourself out."

...

It had been a month since our conversation and Max hadn't said anything else so I understood that he had moved on with Kelly.

Charles and Pierre had invited me to go on a trip together and as I had nothing better to do I decided to go along.

I packed all my things and my cell phone started ringing and I saw that Pierre was calling so I didn't even answer it, I just locked my apartment and went down the elevator with my things, to my surprise when I got downstairs Max was with them and smiled when he saw me.

"I didn't know you were going."

"Yeah, last minute plans."

"We're going by jet." Pierre says kissing my forehead and hugging me from the side.

"What about our tickets?"

"They don't exist, I lied because I knew that if you knew max would be along you would have given up on going."

"Good that you know me." I say putting my bag in the trunk of the car and getting in the back seat.

The walk to the runway was complete silence on my part, I was annoyed that he had ignored me all this time and now he showed up here on a trip he knew I would be on.

The boys were excited and got on the plane before me and Max who grabbed my arm as soon as the two had left my sight.

"Can you let me go?"

"Can you stop being rude to me?"

"And why should I? It wasn't enough that you ignored me and went on this trip together to annoy me and now what? Kelly is going to show up there too."

"No because we broke up."

"What?"

"I broke up with her like I told you I would and I only ignored you because I was helping her moving her stuff out of my apartment. I had to hire a moving truck to take P's stuff to her place too.”

"You could have texted you saying that."

"I know and I'm sorry, it wasn't a quiet break up and I just needed time.”

"It's okay." He let go of my arm. "Let's go before they notice we're late."

Taglist: @44-ilton @babyvinnie @hockey-racing-fubol @xjval @xcinnamongirl @dudenhaaa27 @evans-dejong @chelseagirl98

Ps: this will have a part 3

[the-amber-raven]

I would never delete my fics

I got linked to a reddit thread today where people were being advised to download my mortifying ordeals/Buddie fics, since apparently "now that I'm a BuckTommy shipper", I might be "petty" and delete all my Buddie fics.

So. I'll move past the complicated feelings it gives me to have people hoarding my fics while actively shitting on me as a person (and seemingly not even telling me that they enjoyed my work, although in fairness that could just be a difference in usernames.) That's the nature of fanfic, fandom, and putting things out there on the internet and I accept that.

But I do want to reassure people that I would never delete my fics. I still have the cringy-as-fuck Harry Potter fics I wrote in high school up; believe me those would be first on the chopping block if I was inclined to delete my work. And all of my 9-1-1 fics hold a special place in my heart, but none more than the mortifying ordeals series, which consumed basically a full year of my life and reminded me why I love writing. Hell, I got engaged while writing the final chapters of I once was lost. That fic is indelibly tied to my life now.

And look... I don't think it really matters, nor should I have to explain and justify what I do and don't enjoy about a show or fandom, but this whole experience has upset me more than it probably should have and I can't help but want to get it off my chest anyway.

My favourite thing about this show is the found family feels. I either love or am at least intrigued by every single character that has appeared. You'll notice that family is the central theme of every story I write, whether the story is Gen, Buddie, or BuckTommy.

Because yes, the idea of BuckTommy and how that plays into the family themes of the show has intrigued me and captured my muse.

I've also said before that I didn't think Season 7 left Buddie in a great place in terms of romantic relationship potential - in my opinion, the ghost of Shannon would be an absolutely massive barrier to them getting together right now. The post season 7 Buddie fics have also heavily featured character bashing, which isn't something I generally enjoy seeing, and infidelity, which I really don't like seeing romanticised especially since I've had a partner cheat on me.

So yes, I've distanced myself from the post-S7 Buddie fandom because I just don't enjoy the pervasive negativity I've seen and the way that cheating and violence is suddenly celebrated by a significant subset of the fandom.

That does not mean I've given up on Buddie altogether. I still have a whole list of pre-S7 buddie fics in my to-be-read list that I've been making my way through and 2 out of my 5 WIPs are Buddie fics (both in the mortifying ordeals 'verse, just to make it even clearer that I'm not at all interested in deleting that series.)

But two of those 5 are BuckTommy, because as I said above, their relationship was intriguing to me and it captured my muse.

I don't think those opinions make me some kind of betrayer, or that they inherently make me a "petty" person but I guess I just didn't realise that not-exclusively-shipping-Buddie was such a High Crime in this fandom.

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

INTERLUDE: this is why we can't have nice things.

— the one where everybody's waiting to see the fall out.

warnings: this is basically like the INTRO chapter with all media, we're going to pretend publications and broadcast timings are not mistaken or fake, okay? ok. am i myself if i don't mention taylor swift in every chapter? no. foul language.

masterlist ✢ next

By Tom Gill // June 23rd

Vic Presley confirms y/n hasn't reached out to her even after Vic called asked her to in a publication a few days ago.

"I think she has blocked my number by now," Presley said, "I am devastated by this. I didn't think it was like her to discard relationships so easily."

Presley and y/ln have been friends since 2020, when they met at the opening of the SENSE Club in downtown Los Angeles and quickly became inseparable.

"y/n really was— is my best friend. I miss her and I want her to come back to me."

Vic Presley also commented on y/n's split from Aidan Kim in her own way: "I hate that she hurt Aidan. I was not aware they had so many problems, that's definitely the kind of stuff you tell your best friend."

y/n was spotted just a week ago with alleged (and constantly denied) boyfriend, Charles Leclerc on a stroll around Central Park. Victoria Presley couldn't help but speak her mind on this.

"y/n has changed so much since she met that guy. I met him in Miami and Monaco, he's not one of the good ones. He's managing to isolate her from everyone who loves her."

Once again, Victoria urges y/n to contact her so they can rekindle their friendship. "I am not angry at her, disappointed maybe. But I will always have my arms open for her."

SEE ALSO:

→ Victoria Presley and Mia Kim collab in new project promoting Presley Beauty.

→ y/n y/ln, a disaster waiting to happen.

→ Aidan Kim is 'almost done' with debut solo album

By Paul Dean // June 28th

Aidan Kim has been in the spotlight since 2012, when he debuted as a member of boyband phenomenon Star-5 with their hit single "End Of The Day". After the band's dissolution in late 2018 due to creative differences between the members and rumored jealousy disputes that included Aidan himself, the Korean-American superstar decided to pursue a career in acting, in aims of expanding his horizons.

'Supercut' in 2019 was the start of a a succesful career followed by '1922' (2021) and 'Conversations with Friends' (2022) plus the series 'Crimes of the Academy' (2022) before Netflix decided to cancel it.

While it is true that 'Supercut' was a box office hit and sent Aidan Kim and co-star—and former partner—into a whole new level of stardom, Aidan Kim might be regretting ever making that movie.

"Supercut holds a special place in my heart," Aidan commented, politely. "It was my first real movie." Of course Aidan doesn't count the "3D Concert Experience" he starred with his other four bandmates as a real movie. "But I carry the consequences of making Supercut with me to this day."

The whole world is aware of such consequences, as y/n y/ln is keen on having the last word when it comes to the breakup from Kim. It wasn't enough to leave him humiliated by turning his marriage proposal down.

"Someone was looking out for me that night, I think," Aidan has tried his best to let go of such bitter memories by turning them into something positive. "At the end of the day, I'm glad y/n said no. I can't imagine spending the rest of my life with her. You're witnessing how unstable she is."

"It's quite shocking honestly," Aidan Kim didn't expect his ex-girlfriend to act like this. "I helped her however I could. Talked to producers, casting agents and journalists to give her a shot. And she says I never did anything for her."

Kim couldn't help but take the chance to refer to his ex's new lover: "But I've moved on. And I hope she does the same soon. If I were Charles Leclerc, I'd be worried my new girlfriend is thinking about her ex-boyfriend so often."

Lastly, Aidan teased his upcoming album, "I've worked very hard on it. I missed making music and I hope you'll like this new sound I'm trying after leaving Star-5's commercial music behind."

"The thing about music, is that it lets you tell your side of the story too. I hope you support a man doing this the same way you root for Taylor Swift, because double-standards are so 'in' right now."

SEE ALSO:

→ Mia Kim, the talented sister of Aidan Kim, set to make big screen debut.

→ Were Mia Kim and Victoria Presley mocking y/n y/ln in new Youtube Video?

→ Mia Kim: "y/n should have kept her mouth shut, there's still shit to be exposed about her."

FROM THE DREW BARRYMORE SHOW — JULY 6TH

[Y/N]: ❝(...) What matters to me right now, is that people now I am nothing of what they're calling me. I am not perfect, nobody is. But I have never cheated on a partner or used someone else as a 'toy' and most importantly, I built my own career.❞

[Y/N]: ❝It gets exhausting, you hear things about yourself you never even thought possible. It could be laughable if it wasn't so cruel❞

[Y/N]: ❝My relationship ended in February, but I believe it was over way before that. I acted in a way that was not fair to my ex-partner nor to myself, and I expressed my regrets about it. He had the right to not accept my apology, but not to make stuff up about the whole situation.❞

[Y/N]: ❝He's feeding his ego, he's a man, after all. But doing it at the expense of my work and my reputation is disgusting. I want one producer or casting agent to come forward and say they gave me a role thanks to my ex-boyfriend's input, just one.❞

[Y/N]: ❝I have surrounded myself with different people. They have been a great support system, always motivating me, and holding me back when I'm about to do something stupid. This also means I have left some people out of what's going on with me, and it's for the best.❞

[Y/N]: ❝Taylor Swift, bless her soul, has given me a lot of advice. She's the sweetest person ever and since the same guy that is trying to drag me has gone after her in a few interviews, she wants this to be over as much as I do. I think he made a mistake by messing with Taylor too.❞

[Y/N]: ❝Rumors will keep running, but I am finally at peace with knowing who I am and who I can trust. But those 'sources' should know my patience is running out.❞

By Jenny Highland // July 20th

Mia Kim and Victoria Presley are the hottest topic right now, but not for the reasons both influencers wish, as they are in trouble!

Both Los Angeles locals have received a 'Cease and Desist' letter from recovering actress y/n y/ln this week, per her team's advice. This was confirmed by both Presley and Kim on Twitter, saying they are 'flabbergasted' that y/n is accusing them of defamation.

While y/n is far from gaining her place back in the public's heart, we are not blind to what Victoria and Mia have done for the past month, riding the wave to get views and followers talking about their shared time with y/n. Who has every right to ask them to stop, as she has done in several interviews throughout the month.

For many people, this makes it more evident that it was either Presley or Kim who contacted tabloids to get their five minutes of fame and sink y/n deeper.

Actions have consequences for everyone, and if y/n decided to pick this fight at this point in her downfall/rerise/wherever it is that we are with her, it's because she knows she can win, right?

─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for reading! please let me know your thoughts! I know I'm ending your patience with this slow burn thing but I promise you we're getting there! Charles is back next chapter and you'll see haha. again, your interactions mean the world to me and i'm sorry if sometimes i don't reply to your comments, i'm just awkward but i love you all♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @sassyheroneckgiant @flowerchild-96 @fangirlika @shegotboreddsoo @roseamongthorns13 @cissyp @chimchimjiminie16 @saturnsrinqs @roni-midnights @gayyvodka6 @studioreader @its-ash-not-grey @lu-morningstar @ferraribabe @reidsworld @feelslikestrawberries @celestialams @kosmosgalore @heeseung-baby @missenclod @buendiabebeta @mycenterfold @aces-tattooartist @burningrred @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive@rainybabe25 @ru-kru @lazybot @teenagedreams-cl @cool-ultra-nerd @kuskumu @formulakay3 @bisexual-desi @somanyfandomsbruh @icarus-nex @haziefairy @xjval @xoxoloverb @sainzleclercs @headinthecloudssblog @incoherenciass @bookophiliac @torrie421 @nooshytushie @azxulaa @steephanie07 @anonymous8462 @tbisloneely @pukklv @bn7921 @be-your-coffee-pot @fdl305 @lovely-blackinnon @landonorizzz @ruleroftheuniverse @ivegotparticulartaste

want to join the paddock club? click here!

if you are not tagged please check your blog settings because tumblr isn't letting me tag you

[eliciana]

SAGAU SERIES: Misunderstandings

-> Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 (here)| ...

Masterlist

Blog Navigation

____________________________________

Tw: Sagau, Cult!Au

Reader: GN!Reader, Creator!Reader, God!Reader

Characters: Reader, (mentioned) Aquilo, Unknown voice, Traveller, Paimon

Note: Revised and corrected spelling mistakes

____________________________________

Weeks have passed since you have been practicing to wield your newly aquired powers. Sure, it was tough in the beginning but, you persevered. Aquilo and your new friends were always beside you, their unwavering support and encouragement kept you going, ensuring you took care of yourself along the way.

Each day followed a familiar routine - waking up, preparing meals, tidying the house, practicing magic, resting, and repeating the cycle. This had become the rhythm of your life since you learned to control your abilities.

Now, as you lay on your bed, your gaze fixed on the ceiling, your mind wandered. Dreaming of your crush-/jk. You were actually just thinking, thinking your whole life.

[What's on your mind?], a familiar, and ever so mysterious voice echoed in your thoughts. You paused, then responded with a sigh, "Nothing... no. Actually, I'm just thinking. Thinking of when I will be able to completely master my powers and return to the surface once more."

Your sigh broke the tranquil silence of the room. Beside you, Aquilo slumbered peacefully, his expressions serene as if he were lost in a pleasant dream. "How envious," you muttered, wishing you could experience the same restful slumber. You remembered the previous nights were you wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air.

In contrast, your own nights had been plagued by unsettling dreams – fragments of memories that seemed to piece together, yet remained elusive. Whenever you tried to recall the details, a sharp headache would wash over you, leaving you unable to grasp the true meaning behind these dreams that visit you.

[Pardon me but, may I ask why you think that you should master your powers before resurfacing? I'm intrigued, truly.] The mysterious voice in your mind spoke up once more, interrupting your thoughts.

You paused, considering how to respond. "Hm? Uh. To be completely honest with you, I train my powers so that I can protect myself." You replied then shrugged. [Protect yourself from what?] the voice inquired.

You furrowed your brow, unsure of how to answer. "Why should I even tell you this? I don't even know who – or what – you are. You just appeared in my mind one day, and I've simply accepted you as a companion, though I'm not sure if you're real or just a creation of my own imagination."

[Oh wait, did I forget to mention that?] the voice said coyly. "Duh, if I knew, why would I be asking?" you retorted, a touch of annoyance creeping into your whispered tone, mindful not to disturb the sleeping Aquilo beside you.

[Now, now. Don't get angry at me. I should not have assumed you were aware of what I am.] it said in a gentle voice. "The obvious," you muttered under your breath.

[Tsk. Whatever,] The voice clicked its tongue dismissively. "Hey, did you just 'tsk' at me?" you whispered sharply, keeping your voice low. [I'm actually a soul fragment of yours.] it revealed. "Did you just ignore me- wait what?" you said, now thoroughly confused. A soul fragment? What's that?

[I'm a soul fragment of yours,] The voice repeated. You angrily replied, "Yeah! I heard you the first time. But what do you mean by soul fragment? I don't understand that part." Sitting up straight, you waited for the voice to elaborate, but it remained silent.

*Silence.*

"Hello? Are you still there?" you pressed, whispering into the air.

[Oh, sorry about that,] the voice chimed in, a teasing lilt to its tone. [I dozed off for a moment. Teehee~]

"Don't you 'teehee~' me!" you hissed, your patience wearing thin. The sheer audacity to even 'teehee~' at your face. You can even picture it making a ridiculous face that you could mistake for a punching bag in your mind. If it even had a body, you would definitely punch it with how it's playing with you.

[Come on~ Don't you want to know what I meant by me being a soul fragment of yours?] the voice giggled, its playful tone piquing your curiosity. [Oh wait, let me correct myself.] it continued, the lightness in its voice now replaced by a more serious tone. [I'm not a soul fragment of yours but we are both soul fragments of THEM.] it said, but now it's tone was gone of the once playfullness and was now replaced by seriousness. You felt a sense of unease settle within you as the voice's tone shifted.

"THEM?" you whispered, the question hanging in the air, your brow furrowed in confusion and concern. "What do you mean by THEM?" The voice remained silent for a moment, as if carefully considering its next words. [That is a story for another time,] it finally replied, its tone unreadable and leaving you with more questions than answers. You let out a frustrated sigh.

You opened your mouth to press the voice further, but the sudden stirring beside you made you pause. Aquilo was beginning to stir, his peaceful slumber seemingly disturbed. Glancing over at him, you decided to let the matter rest for now, not wanting to risk waking him. With a deep breath, you settled back onto the bed, your mind swirling with the implications of the voice's words. "THEM," you mouthed silently, your gaze fixed on the ceiling.

Just who or what is THEM? What did you have to do with THEM? What is your connection with THEM? The questions swirling in your mind weighed heavily as you tried to piece together what the voice had mentioned. You closed your eyes, pushing the unanswered questions aside for now and sleep. You are too tired to even properly form an answer.

____________________________________

Under the veil of night, a shadowy figure darted silently through the forest, their movements swift and agile. Barely discernible in the darkness, they weaved between the trees with uncanny precision, leaving no trace of their passing. Emerging into a small clearing, the figure's features remained obscured, their gaze sweeping the area.

“Are you sure that this is where they rest?” a high-pitced voice whispered urgently. The figure responded with a curt nod. "But I see no buildings here," the voice continued, a hint of uncertainty creeping in. "How can you be certain?"

"Quiet, Paimon!" the figure snapped, a note of irritation in their tone. Raising a hand, they pressed it against their chest. "I can feel our connection here, the strongest it has been. They are near, I am sure of it."

"But Traveller-" a fried egg was chucked to Paimon's mouth the instant she opened her mouth. "Shh!" the Traveller warned Paimon again.

____________________________________

Taglist: None

A/n: hi guysss. sorry for the late upload. hope you like it :))

[galaxostars]

Transfest celebration

Hi everyone ! Pride month may be over but Transfest is still very much on going and so many beautiful fics/art keep coming out every day, so feel free to check them out and give them some much deserved love <3

I will be reblogging this post every time a new work comes out so stay tuned for that + the authors' reveal next week!

The Magic of You : 13.9k, E, Petunia/Severus, James/Lily, Eileen/Tobias

One cigarette can change everything. Or when two people realise they are far more alike than they are different.

can i tell you something? : 2.7k, G, Regulus/Remus

Regulus needs to tell Remus something.

What Are Friends For? : 2k, M, Draco/Harry, Hermione/Ron

Draco offers to help Harry out with a certain problem he’s having, courtesy of starting T.

Sun's out, Guns out : art, T, Charlie Weasley

Charlie Weasley has much to be proud about. All his scars are fucking cool, the dragon claws, the eyebrow slit, the stretch marks on his hips, and ... oh yeah : his top surgery scars ! Charlie Weasley is a hot transmasc dude, what do you want more from me i'm thirsting

Full Indulgence : 14.7k, E, Fleur/Nymphadora, Nymphadora/Bill, Fleur/Nymphadora/Bill

Tonks and Bill used to fuck. Bill met Fleur, and friends-with-benefits became friends again. Now, Bill’s engaged to Fleur. Tonks thinks Fleur is hot. Really hot. Tonks cannot stop thinking about her. Bill finds out. Bill has a solution. Tonks is caught in the middle, in the best way possible.

brother, I've returned : 2.7k, G, Regulus & Sirius

Sirius and Regulus reunite after their parents' deaths. written for the HP TransFest, prompt #82: Brother, Madds Buckley or FTM Sirius left home many years ago. After his parents death he must return for the reading of the will and face the brother he left behind

I don't wanna be anything other than me : 4.3k, T, Sirius/Remus

Remus has been thinking about confiding in the boys that he is trans and a werewolf, because he is tired of hiding who he is. Lily is his best friend, but living in the girl's dormitory is taking it's toll. A story of friendship, opening up to others, and accceptance. Prompt 33: Remus ftm taking to McGonagall and the boys about switching dorms

your friends are a fate that befell me : 12.8k, E, Regulus/Sirius, Regulus/James

Self prompted : Established Sirius/Regulus, Sirius wants Regulus to make James feel better after his breakup

Fawning Over You by toxik_angel - a Podfic podfic length 4.5-5 hours, E, Draco/Harry

Harry's not sure which would be worse: Ron and Hermione finding out he buys Draco Malfoy's premium pornography and an extra gift off his wishlist every week, or Draco Malfoy finding out Harry has a horrible, distracting, embarrassing crush on him. Alt title: Whore-ton Hears a Harry.

force our smiles, baby, half dead (from comparing myself to everyone else around me) : 3.8k, M, Remus/James

Five times James was asked how he was feeling + one time Remus was asked the same.

The bleedin' hearts, the arts and that other stuff : 55.9k, E, Remus/James, Dorcas/Lily, Regulus/Sirius, Barty/Pandora/Evan

Sometimes "coming out" means going stealth with your hookup. Sometimes "going stealth" means that your hookup gets the wrong idea that you (a book-loving pacifist who writes self-proclaimed sad boi music in your spare time) are a repeat offender in the back alley knife fight department. Oops? It's all fun and games in love and war for Remus and James until somebody gets hurt. This is a FINISHED FIC With an eleventh chapter - epilogue coming post-creator reveals <33

Between These Walls : 40k, E, Harry/Severus, Luna/Rolf Scamander

Casting an eye to his former student, Severus saw Potter’s head loll onto the thin pillow. The young man faced the ceiling, expression inert and dull. Why was he in a hospital bed next to Potter three years after the war? In which Harry quits the Auror force to recover from a bout of depression, Severus starts an owl-order business from his country house, and they both learn what it means to be in a relationship for the first time.

Wine Drunk : 2.8k, T, Sirius/Remus

Prompt: Sirius is falling in love with new member of order (remus homeschooled) and notices several things and tries to put together pieces

It's not over yet : 6.9k, T, Lily & Severus, Poppy & Severus

Taking self-made potions and performing a ritual at Ostara in his fourth year - Severus Snape had thought of many aspects while planning his transition. Was there something he purposefully ignored until the last second? Certainly. Severus struggles to navigate both his parents' reaction and the reality he has to face: people will ask questions regarding his new form. Severus is sure he is no "young woman" but rather a lad, yet telling other people is intimidating. At least he got his friends and a surprise ally.

moving into me : 5.2k, T, Hermione/Ron

Veronica "Ronny" Weasley always knew something was "off" but Ronny didn't understand what it was until the Yule Ball shenanigans during fourth year. Submitted for 2024 Trans Fest Prompt 6: "Trans male Ron who doesn’t realize/come out until a few years into Hogwarts."

Make sure to leave some kudos and comments to the authors 🏳️‍⚧️🫶🏻

[naomihatake]

In search of freedom (Ch. 6)

6. Where are you when I need you the most?

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: angst, graphic depictions of deaths and fatal wounds, vomiting, self-harm, brief suicidal mention, canon-typical violence. (proceed with caution since it's getting a tiny bit gore)

Word count: 9,1 k (I'm proud of myself tbh)

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: I'm sorry for appearing with a new chapter 9 days later and I hope the wait was worth it. I dropped more details about the Witch's past in this chapter and some interesting interactions with her other crewmates. The next week I'm free, which means there's a chance I might most two charters until next Sunday <3.

I'm always open for opinions and comments. Whatever you want to tell me, just do it, even all you feel like doing is leaving a heart in my comments or inbox. Every interaction is appreciated and thank you so much for sticking to this story till now <3

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

A warm palm touched her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, but with no effect. The witch turned her head towards Luffy, her glassy eyes betraying her. It made their captain frown with worry. The sound of her real name slipping from between his lips stung worse than expected. 

"It'll be alright," he smiled. "Zoro is a strong swordsman."

With horror painting her features, she shook her head and placed her shaking hand over his, gripping gently. 

"You don't get it, Luffy, do you?" her voice came out like a whisper. "It's not just any dwell and that man isn't just any swordsman. I've seen plenty of people dying in front of my eyes, the crew I used to be part of, they didn't hold a chance against—"

She sank her teeth in her lower lip and looked up, blinking away the tears. Her breath was shaking and the grip on Luffy's hand got tighter. Slowly, she inhaled deeply, body trembling as her lungs swallowed the morning cold breeze. 

Both Usopp and Luffy were frowning, listening intently to her words. 

"This won't end well," she concluded. "He willingly got himself in danger. Zoro is nothing but some prey for Mihawk."

Luffy's sympathetic gaze didn't help her, it didn't ease her worries as he hoped. Her panic was fed by each single thought passing through her head, by each memory making a nest in the present. 

"I've met one single Warlord in my entire life and he destroyed half of the strongest crew I ever knew at that time. I know who they are, I know their tactics, I know they're not to play with."

Both of her hands were clasped around Luffy's shoulder, turbulent eyes meeting his. The tips of her nails dug lightly in his skin, but he didn't wince or move. 

"Yes, we are strong, but still not strong enough for them," the witch intentionally lowered her voice so it wouldn't crack into sobs. "Please tell me you know I didn't argue with him because I like to. Please tell me you get what I mean, Luffy. I'm scared."

She was barely aware of her admission, but it was hard to hold back. The witch wasn't a scaredy-cat, she didn't run away, pride filled her being all too well to ever lose a battle, be it against herself or others. That time, however, she was scared out of her mind for the swordsman. 

Luffy gave her the sweetest smile she's seen in ages and squeezed her shoulder again. "He will be alright." 

She let her head tilt forward, hands falling back to her sides. His faith was greater than her fears, but he couldn't erase the panic settling in her bones. 

"You have no clue how much I wish you were right." 

It hurt. Her chest hurt and something was crawling up her throat, differently than back in Syrup Village. It made her feel nauseous, it bubbled in her stomach and gripped at her neck, it constricted her lungs and air punctured their tissue. 

Zoro just walked out of the galley exactly when the sun could be barely seen rising up from the waters. The bandana was wrapped around his head and his earrings chimed like a melody, making her head turn towards him. 

The same horrified gaze from hours ago was stuck on him and yet he chose to ignore her, passing by without even casting a glance. 

She stood there when Usopp, Luffy and Zoro walked by, her back turned to them. The witch had to collect the pieces of her broken heart before daring to glance at a list fight on the swordsman's side. Mihawk was already waiting for them right in front of the restaurant. 

She couldn't watch another dear person die. Not again. 

Her fingers dug painfully into her palms, until her nails left crescent marks on the skin, until it hurt so badly the tears in her eyes couldn't fall. Their synchronized steps beat like drums, just like her heart. 

Everything was blurred out. She didn't dare look until she heard swords clashing. Like a snap, her head turned. 

Mihawk stopped Zoro's attack with one small knife. 

He had no chance against the warlord, just like she guessed. 

No, she thought. I can't be pessimistic now. Maybe at least he'll get out alive—

But pirates don't just let their dwell partners live, the other side of her conscience commented. 

Each one of Zoro's attacks were either stopped or dodged so easily by Mihawk, who seemed like he was playing rather than fighting. He was so light on his feet, body moving like a feather between Zoro's blades. 

The warlord sent her green-haired crewmate flying back with a mere push of his knife when he blocked yet another one of his attacks. When Zoro got back to his feet and rushed towards him, Mihawk continued dodging each one of his attacks. 

The witch could only hear a muffled conversation from a distance. She didn't even notice when Nami passed by her until she saw orange strands of hair bouncing in her vision. 

The navigator didn't come from the restaurant, as she should've since she searched for a drink — or that's what she said. She walked from the other side of the dock. Her hands trembled by her side and she walked slowly, fearfully, her body so stiff, until she stopped behind Luffy. 

The witch focused for so long on Nami, her gaze fell on Zoro only when the right side of his chest was penetrated by Mihawk's knife. 

Air got stuck in her throat and time stopped in its tracks. Her feet were stuck right where they were and she couldn't move an inch. 

Zoro, his name lingered in her thoughts, the sound of it along with the sweet chiming of his golden earrings. 

Time stretched like an elastic. Seconds passed by at an agonizingly slow pace, as if the Universe itself decided to torture her with that image. 

Swords. Corpses. Blood. Fear. 

The witch let out a shaky breath while she trembled like a leaf in the breeze. 

Zoro made a step back, the knife slipping away from his flesh. With a few other steps, he fell to his knees, with his swords digging into the wooden battens to keep himself steady. 

Mihawk curled his fingers around the hilt of the sword on his back. 

It seemed like he decided to end it all right then and there. 

The witch didn't know if it was her imagination when Zoro seemed to glance towards her for a brief moment. All she knew was that her heart sank into her stomach and she could hear the audible cracks of her soul. The green-haired man took his white sword, placing it in between his teeth. 

His gaze moved back to Mihawk so quickly she could barely register it. Her stomach turned upside down and her chest tightened when she saw Zoro rotating his other two swords faster than the brain was able to comprehend. 

Mihawk and Zoro jumped into the attack at the same time. She didn't know if their swords collided or not. 

Zoro fell to his knees again, panting. The swords in his hands crumbled into pieces all the way to the hilt, right in the middle of the runes the witch drew hours ago on the blades. His Wado Ichimoji fell from between his teeth. 

He didn't stop there. Of course that fucking idiot didn't stop. He used the white sword to get up, resting his weight into it until he finally stood straight again, turning to Mihawk. Carefully, he sheathed his Wado Ichimoji. 

With his arms held in the air and hands curled into fists, Zoro didn't let go of his word as he proudly admitted:

"Wounds on the back are a swordsman's greatest shame."

The warlord said one word the witch didn't hear and then, with a swift motion, his sword cut deeply through Zoro's chest. 

The green-haired man fell on his back, eliciting a shout of his name from Luffy. 

Zoro. 

His name was all the witch could hear while she rushed to his side, tears blurring her vision, tears she couldn't afford to show. 

Just like he did a few moments ago, the witch got to her knees, eyes focused on the t-shirt getting soaked in Zoro's blood. 

"Fucking dammit," she spoke in a hoarse voice, hands trembling. 

He was bleeding heavily, the dark blue nuance of his shirt replaced by dark crimson. The wound started from under his left clavicle and curved through his chest, all the way to the right side of his ribs. Without a second thought, the witch took off her unbuttoned shirt and folded it, just to press the material on his large wound. 

"Monkey D. Luffy," Mihawk said. "what's your goal?" 

"I'm going to become the King of the Pirates," Luffy responded through gritted teeth. 

The witch's burning gaze raised to the warlord who stood tall meters away, putting his sword back in place on his back. Her fingers ached to touch her revolvers and shoot holes through that man until she's satisfied, until the monster lurking in the depths of her soul had its blood thirst quenched. However, her hands remained pressed against her shirt, trying her best to stop Zoro's bleeding. 

She's always been revengeful when people dear to her heart were harmed. Revenge she never denied, a trait of hers she's accepted long ago. 

"That's a much more treacherous path than even defeating me. This world could use a few more wild cards."

"Go fuck yourself," the witch let out with wrath burning in her eyes. 

She clenched her jaw and her eyebrows knitted together into a deep frown. Anger filled each corner of her being, blinding her almost all the way up, filling her to the brim. 

One more drop and she would lash out. 

Zoro's safety was more important than her rage and she was completely aware of that. The wounded swordsman was the only reason why she stood still by his side. 

"It's too soon for him to die," and with that, Mihawk's gaze fell back on the green-haired man. "Roronoa Zoro, grow strong and come find me. I'll be waiting."

Fucker, the witch's thought wasn't voiced out that time while the warlord walked away. 

"Luffy," Zoro spoke in such a soft voice. 

The witch and Luffy immediately looked back at him. He was struggling to breathe properly, that mere motion probably making his entire body ache painfully. 

"If I fail to become the world's greatest swordsman," he faintly spoke, barely able to open up his eyes. After some greedy gulps of air, he continued: "you'll be disappointed. Right?" 

With a shaky breath, Luffy smiled at him as tears gathered in his eyes. 

"You could never fail me." 

The witch could feel her body shake when she realized the swordsman's life was hanging on a thread. 

"Never again. From now… until I beat him," Zoro continued talking in between panting. 

The witch wished she could tell him something, anything, but all she could do was continue pressing her shirt over his wound. Looking at him in that state made her heart squeeze in the cage made of ribs, wishing she could be in his place and take his pain away. 

With trembling hands, he somehow managed to draw his Wado Ichimoji out of its scabbard, holding it up as he looked up at the blue sky. 

"To become the greatest swordsman… I will never lose again!" he let out with a shaky breath, voice scratching at the witch's eardrums. 

One of her hands curled around his shoulder and squeezed firmly, intending to bring his attention to her only for a second. 

"I'm sorry about what I said, alright?" she gulped down hard, her voice cracking. "You need to live, yeah? I know you'll become the greatest. I'm sorry, Zoro, I'm sorry." 

She was sorry for lashing out at him. If they were to part ways in that moment, then she'd rather make sure he never believed she was mad at him, that she didn't hate him even for a second. It was a feeling her heart wasn't capable of harboring towards him — never him. She would've ripped her ribcage open and given him her heart if she could. 

The witch could only hope his tired and pained self heard her words, even as his eyes closed immediately after his arm dropped to his side along with the sword. 

"You better stay alive," she whispered while looking down at him. 

Her words became muffled from his perspective. All he heard was his name being spoken multiple times by Luffy and Usopp. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch has been sitting on the floor of her shared room with Nami for a while now, ever since the navigator started reading. Zoro laid unconsciously on her bed, bandages wrapped around his torso. For a long time, she didn't even dare look at him. 

She will be eternally grateful for Zeff's help — the chef cook of Baratie who snitched Zoro up and told them to do whatever was necessary to keep him alive, be it telling stories or singing sea shanties. 

Despite the fact that Zoro's wound wasn't bleeding anymore, her heart still screamed at her. 

With knees pulled up to her chest and her forehead resting in between them, she wrapped her arms around her stomach, subconsciously protecting herself from God-knows-what. She couldn't sleep either, despite listening to Nami's alluring voice as she read from a book. 

The bandage on her upper arm was worn out and it's been longer than a day since Zoro wrapped it. It was dirty with blood from the time when she intentionally squeezed it before sobs could leave her lips. 

Nami stopped reading, but the witch didn't register the lack of sounds surrounding her until she heard a voice. She didn't bother to raise her head, keeping her eyes closed as she responded:

"Can you say that again? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." 

"Pull yourself together," Nami whispered. 

The witch knew that if she'd look up, she'd see a scolding or maybe a worried pair of blue eyes staring at her. 

"I will when the situation asks for it," plainly, she dismissed the navigator. "Until then, I couldn't give less of a fuck."

She was aware of her position, of how small she looked, curled like a ball against the wall, hugging herself and praying to every God she knew that the swordsman would wake up. It was pathetic, but there was no wiser way to hide her overwhelming pain. Wrapping around herself sounded like the most helpful option. 

"There are a few things you two should talk about when he wakes up," Nami closed the book with a small thud. 

"I'd tell anyone anything if I knew he'd wake up," this time, her voice trembled lightly. 

The witch swallowed the lump in her throat that's been sitting there uncomfortably for hours, with no positive effect. The only way to even her breathing was by holding the air in her lungs for a few seconds and letting it all go with a long exhale. 

"Nami."

Only then, the witch raised her head. She looked deplorable, with disheveled hair and sunken eyes, dark circles under them from the lack of sleep. Her chapped lips were red because she ripped the skin off with her nails again. There was no sign of life on her face. 

Obviously, she's had better days. Everyone did, probably. 

"Maybe it's because I'm sorrow-drunk and can't bring myself to hide it anymore, but I have to tell you something."

She's been debating on whether or not she shall tell Nami about her suspicions ever since she pulled out those two cards out of the tarot deck. 

"I know you're hiding something, but you can't hide it from me."

The truth has been spoken. With her heart beating loudly in her eardrums and threatening to break her ribs, she continued. 

"I know. You're planning betrayal."

The navigator's eyes widened as panic flooded in her soul. The orange haired woman had no clue where all this came from, didn't know how fuck she found out about that, when and why—

"I didn't tell anyone."

"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?" came out Nami's sharp response. 

"I never expected you to admit it, if I am to be honest."

The witch rubbed her palms over her face and sighed heavily, as if a weight was pressed on top of her body. 

"I also know there's more to the story. I don't know what or who you're protecting yourself from, I have no clue exactly why you're doing all this, but there's one thing I know for sure: the world is sitting on your shoulders, yet you refuse letting us help you carry it."

Nami stiffened in her chair. Her back straightened and her empty gaze pushed the witch out of her thoughts. 

"Are you jumping to conclusions because of some stupid cards?"

"They definitely know more than me."

"Did you read you should treat your paranoia in there too?"

"While I admit there are times when I have crippling anxiety," the witch calmly stated, "I'm one hundred percent sure this isn't just a fairy tale. It's your choice to tell me or continue to keep it for yourself."

"But?" her voice lowered dangerously close to snapping. 

"But we're not your enemies, Nami, and you know that well."

Not an answer the navigator expected, definitely. 

"Zoro is unconscious on the bed and you're talking in metaphors — have you all gotten insane on this ship?" 

"If I did, it was long before stepping on The Going Merry," the witch let out a stiffled laugh. 

She dropped her forehead on her knees again, squeezing herself tighter in the embrace. The witch wasn't any less panicked than Nami, since opening up such a discussion scared her deeply. It was better than hiding and lying, though, and it felt less guilty. 

"Why did you tell me this?" Nami asked with a whisper. "Be it right or wrong, why would you?" 

"You don't deserve to be lied to, Nami. It makes me feel bad — hiding this from you made me feel like garbage from the start."

Even then, a gram of her guilt vanished. 

"You're weirdly honest. You're aware this will haunt you one day, aren't you?" 

"It's been haunting me since I got born," a sour smile painted the witch's face. 

"The devil must've put some kind of curse on you." 

"I only believe in evil spirits, sorry."

She didn't know where that soft laugh came from. Maybe it was her way of copying with the anxiety, with the pain. All she knew was that she hoped Nami wouldn't hide from them forever. 

"Is there anything else you want to accuse me of?"

Faster than Usopp's snapping, Nami was once again serious, and the witch didn't have to look at her to figure it out. 

"I never accused you. I know I'm right, but I'm not aware of the entire truth. You, on the other side, are aware of your own reality and I believe in your judgment. I hope you'll make the wisest decision and I'm saying this from the bottom of my heart." 

"That's rich coming from someone so suspicious."

She's always been that way, the witch had to admit it. It wasn't only anxiety or tarot readings, there were times when she was straight up acting and thinking like a paranoid and it was cutting years off her life. Worrying and thinking over and over again, being hyper aware of everyone's actions, including her own. 

Nami resumed her reading, her voice strained this time, as if she forced herself to talk out loud. Each syllable sounded rougher than the other, but that didn't stop the navigator from telling that story. 

The witch wasn't paying attention, instead focusing on the moments spent with all of them, just like last night, when they were all eating and teasing each other. She needed to talk to Zoro, to tell him again that she's sorry. 

Maybe he didn't hear me clearly before he fell unconscious, she wondered. She moved one of her arms and curled her fingers around the wound on her bicep. It stung good. If it could stop the stream of tears threatening to fall, then it was good, no matter how much it hurt, how the pain sunk deep into her bones, making her flinch. 

There was something she wanted to clear out with Nami, but before the witch could speak, approaching steps made her mouth close shut. The presence felt light once her senses registered it, like a sparkling piece of hope — Luffy. She remained like a statue, breathing so slowly it was barely obvious she was still alive. 

"Why did the king have to kill him?" he asked innocently. 

He was referring to Nami's telling. 

Without even having to glance up at him, the witch knew he was feeling unwell. There was no light in his voice and he sounded unsure of himself, so disoriented. 

"Sometimes, when you are in charge, you have to make the tough decisions," she muttered between gritted teeth. 

The witch knew where this conversation was heading. 

"Why does everybody keep saying that?" 

Luffy's voice desperately tried to reach out to the orange-haired woman.

Judging from the creaking of the chair, Nami got up from her seat as she spoke:

"Because you could've saved Zoro. He didn't have to fight Mihawk, but you let it happen. "

A few seconds of silence filled the room with thick tension. 

"Look at her," Nami pointed with her chin towards the witch. "It looks like if he goes, she goes too. If one of us crumbles, everyone does. Look at us, at how we're handling it, at how Zoro does or, better said, how he doesn't handle it."

The witch couldn't understand why she was suddenly part of their conversation or why Nami took her side and tried to protect her from some unknown entity.  Probably, she really looked worse than she thought. A sense of relief patched up one of the countless wounds under her skin when she figured out the navigator said all those things because she cared.

At the very same time, she knew Nami's words must've made Luffy suffer greatly, pushing her to raise her head and give her friends her entire attention.

"Nami," the witch intervened gently. 

"You're in no place to talk," she cut her off quickly, her eyes like turbulent seas. "We're all a mess and it's all because of his stupid decision. But he could've been stopped," Nami turned her head to Luffy again. 

"Nami, stop it," the witch furrowed her eyebrows. "Fighting will do no good. We've argued enough last night, there's no need for that anymore."

Nami was panicked and stressed out of her mind as well. Everything gave her away: the trembling hands, the shaking voice, tone close to breaking in a million pieces with each word, even the tears that gathered in her eyes. However, no drop rolled down her cheek. 

"Tell me, Luffy," Nami vehemently continued with a tensed expression. "Would you see him like this? He might die."

Stop saying that, please, the witch thought as she took in another breath. He knows. Everyone knows. Please, stop saying he'll die because I might believe it too. I want to believe in him, not in whatever life changing lesson the universe gave me. 

"And I'd do anything to save him," Luffy whispered with a tender smile on his face. 

Me too. I'd rip my heart out of my chest and give it to him. I'd rip off my flesh and put it on his wounds. I'd die if I knew my life would be given to him. 

"Anything," Luffy continued. "Except stand in the way of his dream." 

God fucking dammit. 

"We all have dreams, but we outgrow them," Nami clenched her teeth after she spoke. 

"Is that really what you think?" Luffy's smile held so much hope. "Don't you have a dream?" 

"Yeah. Right now, is for Zoro to not die in my bed," the navigator let out in a strangled voice. 

"Isn't there something that you want? Something more," the straw hat whispered. "More than anything else in this world."

When the witch looked at Nami, it was obvious she was on the verge of tearing up, her nostrils flaring. Her eyes were already bloodshot. 

"Not everyone gets to follow their dreams."

Nami didn't wait for any of them to respond before she walked out of the room. The witch got to her feet and tried to catch the navigator's hand in hers, but she wasn't fast enough. All she could do was glance at Luffy and place both of her palms on his shoulders, just like he did at the crack of dawn. 

He looked at the witch with a hopeful and equally worried gaze. 

"I know you meant the best when you encouraged him to follow his dream, Luffy," the witch squeezed his shoulders. "It's alright. Nami knows that as well. She's worried, like all of us. We all said hurtful things to each other lately."

His lips trembled when he attempted to say something, but he didn't dare to anymore. Instead, he searched for reassurance. 

Was he in the wrong? Did Zoro get hurt because of him?

"It's not your fault," the witch continued with a tiny smile on her face. "I promise you. Everything led up to this. It couldn't have been avoided, unfortunately. No one could've stopped Zoro — you know he's a stubborn asshole."

Luffy scoffed. 

"You know I'm right."

"I do," the straw hat nodded shily. "I think…" he gulped down, looking at his feet. "Maybe I can clean his sword for when he'll wake up."

"I'm sure he would be grateful about it. I'll stay here a bit longer."

She didn't let go of Luffy's shoulders until he moved away. Just to ease her concern, he smiled faintly at her before leaving the room. 

Looking down at the unconscious pirate hunter, the witch couldn't believe her eyes. She gulped, not even daring to grasp at his hand, scared he'd break even because of a feather-like touch. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds, opening them again only to see the same man in the exact same position. 

She was scared for him, for his life. She didn't want to be a nuisance and stop him from doing what he believed would bring him happiness. Or maybe that word was too much — but winning against Dracule Mihawk would've made him proud, it would've fulfilled a promise he made to someone long ago. She didn't know who was at the other end of the promise, but he seemed to be a man of his word, so trying to stop him turned her into a selfish person. 

Her eyes were locked on his face, brushing with the back of her hand some small droplets of sweat on his forehead. She was worried out of her mind, now regretting she didn't do more to stop him, to make him change his mind when he was maybe too drunk to think twice. 

"Be careful, Zoro," the witch told him back then, her gaze betraying the worry crippling through her entire being. 

She was right. He should've been more careful. He should've been less reckless, should've listened to Nami and her, even if Luffy encouraged him to chase his dream. Was it really worth it? 

Once again, she sighed. She was selfish, greedy, it was wrong to think that his dream wasn't worth the entire world. Heck, even she would do anything for him, just to see him open his eyes again, just to hear another bored or witty remark coming from between his lips.

Instead, he was silent and still, only the slow movement of his chest visible as he breathed. It was the only thing that managed to bring her an ounce of comfort.

At least he was alive, she continued telling herself. 

It was clawing at her heart, messing with it, her thoughts roaming around, jumping one on top of another. She was overthinking again, the worst habit she could've had — or that's what she silently believed for years. 

The witch should've fought with him to death back then, when he was stubborn enough to throw Nami's words at her while they argued. Maybe it would've made him change his mind. As she continued looking at him, she worthlessly tried to take some of the blame for what happened. 

Hidden under his bandages, the same wound made the woman standing by his side believe she saw the Death Reaper, even if he was the one unconscious on a bed. 

Carefully, she sat down next to him, without taking her eyes off of him even for a moment. 

"You're kind of worrying us all, y'know? Luffy is in denial of your possible death and Nami seems restless. Usopp is too silent for his usual self," she whispered. 

Her first instinct was to touch him, but her fingertips hovered above his hand. She didn't know if it would've been right to seek the warmth of his skin while he wasn't even awake. All the witch could do was hope that deep down in his soul, he felt and heard all of them. 

"I'm worried too. No. Worried is an understatement. I'm terrified," the words trembled as they left her lips, the same chopped lips she sank her teeth into. "I'd rather have you call me an idiot," she chuckled sourly. 

With slow and careful gestures, she gathered enough courage to caress his hand with her fingers, feeling small cuts here and there. He was still warm, which eased a few of her worries. 

She made a long pause, staring at the seemingly lifeless man she would give her life for.  

"Remember when we drank together on the deck, two nights ago?" 

A fragile smile appeared on her face at the reminder of that night. She stole the last drop of his bottle before he could finish it with a grin, playfully nudging at his ribs. He failed to threaten her about how she owes him something for that. He was handling his liquor better than her and yet, he couldn't hide his smirk or the sparkle in his eyes. 

That night, bottles later, the witch got dizzy and tipsy. At first, she almost fell into a sea of melancholy after she shared pieces of her with Zoro. She doesn't remember how, but he got her laughing way too easy with his remarks and some silly stories. 

"You're flushed already," he pointed out back then. 

"You're kinda rosy in the cheeks as well, swordsman." 

At that time she damned the alcohol for the soft gaze she had when she looked at him. Her eyes were sparkling with adoration when they danced on his face, peace sinking in her very bones in his presence. She shouldn't have drank. It was so obvious that she had a soft spot for him, that he had a special place in her heart not even a month after they met. 

And who was at fault for her drunken state that night? Roronoa Zoro, obviously. He was at fault when she giggled and talked too much about too many things at once, so much more passion in her words than usual — was that even possible? he thought to himself. She always had a light and warm way of talking, her voice many times giving away her feelings. 

A promise was a promise, even if she didn't wholeheartedly accept it from the beginning. She surrendered quickly and told him that yes, she owes him something, maybe a secret. 

The witch remembered everything the next day, but acted like her memory had faded. The realization hit her hard the next morning, when she figured out her irrational fear of sharing secrets. She shouldn't have made that promise, so she played dumb, as if the conversation they had was forgotten about. 

"Maybe it's not exactly a secret, but I like it when you call me by my name."

Maybe he hears me. 

"I didn't hear my name being spoken for a long time. It makes me emotional every time, with no exception."

You're a crybaby, he should've said. 

Her hand fully settled on top of his while the witch continued to slowly rub her fingertips into his skin, trying to bring herself back to earth even if her thoughts were sailing through unfortunate memories. 

"I wasn't called by my name for years after my father became a pirate," she continued the story that started during their drinking night. "He aimed to become an Admiral and he was part of the Navy Forces for half of his life. For a long time, he thought he could do better than his comrades and hoped he could change the corruption that took place in the Government and the Marines. Insane, right?" she let out a sour chuckle. "An Admiral becoming a pirate. Everyone called him insane."

Once again, she smiled at the faint memories of her father's warm smile. There were details she didn't mention that night on the deck, like the status of her father in the Navy. 

"I didn't reach ten yet when he left. He considered it would've been dangerous to stay with us and, if I am to be honest, mom would've kicked him out of their home."

Their home, because that place was never her home. 

"Calling me by my name would've meant he still has ties with me and someone might've taken advantage of that."

Nine years ago, the witch was a child who only learnt how to use a kitchen knife for cutting vegetables. That child has been stripped of her innocence a few years later. 

"A few times a year he would visit me. He would hide from the Marines, while I would hide from my mom. I still remember how he was so much happier. He looked younger, like he was living his teenage years and not his thirties. Except for a few days I'd stay with him and his crew, he was roaming around the seas. He never judged a single soul, believing it wasn't his job to do so, even if he would protect anyone who needed help. He changed the meaning of a pirate in a good way."

She turned her head towards the window, watching the blue sky mingling with the sea and the port of Baratie where people were walking on the wooden battens. 

"He was caught by the Marines while he visited me and killed in the center of the city," her voice lowered to a gentle whisper, just like the breeze coming from the open window and giving her goosebumps. 

She remembers that moment all too clearly, eyebrows knitting together as she squeezed Zoro's hand lightly, hoping it would bring some comfort to her shattered heart. 

A life that felt like an eternity already made her believe her name was like damnation for anyone who said it. A few syllables being spoken and you'd be cursed to die one way or another, since her mother refused to call by the name her father chose when she saw light for the first time. Her father and his crew were the only ones calling her name so dearly, with honey latched onto their voices, treating her like a daughter. 

She was someone's daughter when she was with them. And now, by Luffy's side, she was someone's friend. 

"I don't want to watch you die too," only then she looked at him again. "Don't die on me. Don't leave us alone."

There was determination in her tone, mingling with pain and sorrow. Half of her believed in him the same way she believed the sea was blue and that leaves were green. The other half drowned in anguish. 

Zoro seemed almost serene, despite the small frown that never left his face. She took in a deep breath and moved her hand away from his, only to lean over and rest her elbows on her knees. 

She needed some fresh air. 

The witch got up and left the room in a hurry, before tears would've slipped down her cheeks. She pushed it all aside, holding it in, since there was no time to weep at anyone's grave. Zoro was still breathing, even if half dead. 

He will get better. He had to. 

She walked into the galley. Standing up in front of the table was Sanji, wearing only his white and blue checkered shirt, the black jacket suit abandoned on the armrest of the couch. He was cutting some vegetables, skillfully holding the knife. 

On the cushions sat Luffy, cleaning Zoro's white sword, just like he said. Meanwhile, Usopp was the one to notice her first, leaning with his hands prompted onto the wooden table. Nami couldn't be spotted anywhere. 

The sound of her own name almost made her flinch. The witch blinked quickly, looking at Usopp. Both Sanji and Luffy looked at her then. The latter had some deep puppy eyes — her heart aches at that look alone. 

"How is he?" 

"Unconscious," she breathed out softly.

She let out a sigh and ran her fingers through her hair, her eyebrows pulled together. 

"I suppose you haven't eaten anything since yesterday," Sanji smiled gently. "Anything I could make for you?" 

"I appreciate it, really, but I don't have an appetite," she dismissed him with a faint smile of her own. 

"You could use some energy, you know," Usopp mumbled. 

"You, Luffy? What would you like to eat?" Sanji got back to chopping the vegetables. 

"I'm not hungry right now. You could make something for Zoro. He'll surely be hungry when he wakes up!" 

Their captain still had hope bubbling in his chest and it was the only thing keeping them all afloat. 

However, the witch couldn't bear to think about it anymore. She spotted her shirt hanging on a nail in the wall, close to the couch. With a quick gesture, she grabbed at it, intending to put it on herself until the heavy scent of blood filled her senses the second time that day—

The shirt was soaked in Zoro's blood from the time when she used it to stop the bleeding of his wound. Nausea crawled up her throat and she unintentionally dropped the piece of cloth when she became aware of the sickness settling deeply in the pitch of her stomach. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

With a hand covering her mouth, she rushed out of the galley, on the deck, the doors shutting harshly behind her. She leaned over the railing as the acidic taste made its way up her throat and on her tongue. 

A disgusting sensation, truly. 

She's seen blood before, she saw countless corpses laying at her feet, but nothing could compare with the vision of a dear person giving their last breath. She couldn't believe she vomited because of blood, such a normal occurrence in her life.

But it wasn't just any kind of blood — it was Zoro's and it sunk into the material of her own shirt. 

She will have to throw it away. There's no way in hell she would manage to ever wear that again, even if it would be clean and smelling like lavender.

Tears clung to her eyelashes when she opened her eyes again, looking down into the sea. She was breathing heavily and she regretted swallowing her own saliva, as the awful taste lingered in her mouth unpleasantly. 

Warm fingers touched her shoulder and before she saw whose hand it was, there was a glass of water being shoved towards her. When she glanced up, she saw the blonde waiter. 

"Thank you, Sanji," she took the glass from his hand, sipping slowly as the gentle weight on her shoulder disappeared. 

"If I knew such a beautiful lady was waiting for me to wake up, I would've opened my eyes much sooner."

The waiter — who could apparently also cook like a professional — said that in a somewhat flirtatious tone. Also, there was compassion lingering in his honeyed voice. 

"If Zoro would hear you, he would've thrown you overboard."

Nami. 

The witch didn't even notice her on the deck until that moment, her head snapping towards the navigator, her eyes sparkling with hope as she gripped at the glass in between her fingers. Nami was a few meters away from her, with her back facing the sea and her hands curled around the railing. 

The witch has seen Nami's expression countless times when she looked in the mirror after a crying fit. The same bloodshot eyes and puffy eyes, the red tip of her nose and the husky voice. 

"I don't remember you having sea sickness," Nami pried into her soul. 

The witch looked towards the water at the bottom of her glass, ashamed of her own reaction. 

"Because I don't have sea sickness," the witch whispered weakly, basically admitting her vulnerable state. 

She was more than just thankful Sanji chose not to elaborate on the reason behind her reaction. There was still acid sitting on her tongue, even after she gulped down the last droplets of water from her glass. 

"Where are you heading to?" 

The witch noticed when Nami straightened her back and walked away, towards the dock. 

"Maybe I can find another drink at the restaurant," Nami waved the back of her hand at the witch. 

That sounded very familiar to a lie for some reason, but was it the witch's place to comment? 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Familiar fear made its way through her body, scratching underneath the skin, whispering in her ear like a mantra the same phrase her mother has always told her: "there's nothing you can do about it, so accept it." 

Those words always unsettled the young witch deeply. She heard that voice everytime she hid in a room with the books her grandmother left behind, pages filled with tarot and palmistry, the promise of real magic, different from the fairy tales. It sounded and felt palpable, her eyes sparkling. Those books were her treasure, a future filled with freedom. 

The same words were being shouted in her ears by the ghosts when her body stiffened in its spot. She wanted to scream while the man who was her father was dragged away by Marines, this time on the port of Baratie, not in her hometown. 

The deafening yell she wanted to let out was silent. Her lips didn't even part and her awareness slipped away as she continued to see blood pooling at her father's feet, his signature royal blue coat painted in crimson. As if her vocal chords broke before she opened her mouth, no sound left her lips. 

"He deserved it," sounded so clear in her ear, as if her mother stood right beside her, watching the same scene unfolding over and over again.

No, no, I can't let him die! I need to do something! Please, dad, you can't—

The man who stood proudly was dying, his body decomposing right before her eyes. A sickening view, as the skin melted off the meat, leaving only bones and tendons behind, covered by heavy clothes, two empty holes in his cranium instead of beautiful sparkling eyes. Blood dried on the white bones and sunk into the material of his coat and it flowed towards her, to the tips of her boots—

"Luffy! Arlong is here and he's after you, we have to leave now!" 

The witch gasped loudly, her eyes snapping open. Nami, who just entered, was panting heavily, fingers gripping at the edge of the doorframe. 

Who's Arlong? 

She noticed Luffy who just got up from the chair he was sitting on, right by Zoro's side. Usopp had his fingers curled around one of the ropes holding the bed in the room hanging in the air. 

There were no dead corpses around. Gosh, that nightmare was scary as hell. Her heart still drummed in her eardrums, blood rushing through her veins at an alarming pace. 

She managed to get on her feet, her palm glued to the wall to support herself. 

"Where do you think you're going, Luffy?"

Nami was panicked. Her fear grew steadily, just like fire, and she was on the edge of cussing out that entire bunch of confident idiots. 

"We can't let Arlong hurt people just because of us. He might kill everyone if we don't step in."

Luffy was rarely so serious, but the situation asked for it. However, the navigator was anything but happy with his suicidal decision. 

The witch turned her head towards the unconscious swordsman. She took in a deep breath, calming the waters threatening to destroy her mind. Then, her warm gaze raised back to the navigator who squeezed the map in between her trembling fingers. 

"You'll stay here and protect the ship, Nami," Luffy smiled reassuringly. "I trust you."

The orange haired woman searched for a different reaction from the witch, but received the same determination. 

"Have you all grown insane?" she whispered in horror. 

The witch made slow steps towards her and engulfed her in a warm hug, wrapping her arms around the navigator's body. She squeezed her gently, resting her chin on Nami's shoulder. 

"Something is troubling you greatly. Don't lie to me," the witch whispered in her ear softly. "You've got something in your head and you're pushing all of us away. We trust you, even if it'll bring us our death."

That's what scared Nami the most. 

The witch parted just to look into Nami's troubled blue eyes. 

"We'll be alright. We have to be. We'll figure it out together."

She had no clue how much Nami wanted to believe her, but it was impossible to do so. The navigator knew better what danger awaits them in Baratie now that Arlong appeared, that monster—. 

Right. That's what pirates were: monsters. So why did the ones in front of her look like friends instead of demons stealing her life away? 

The witch squeezed her shoulders and smiled so warmly, so calmly, different from the agitation they would face. 

For one second only, Nami dared to believe. Then, it crumbled to her feet when Luffy and the witch left her room with one glance back at Zoro. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch found herself in the restaurant once again. Her fingers gripped tightly at the gun she held, finding comfort in the familiar weight settled in her hand. On purpose, she stood behind the other three men, sharp eyes scanning her surroundings carefully. They were lucky they chose to enter from the first floor, since she could easily hide. 

She wasn't hiding for the reasons some would think of. The witch intentionally stood on the side, analyzing the situation. First of all, she had to find the smallest opportunity to find a weak spot for that fishman. From her spot, still glued to the wall and hidden from everyone's eyes, she focuses on Luffy's conversation with Arlong. 

"I expected someone… bigger," Arlong commented with a wide grin, sharp teeth on full display. 

He could definitely be classified as scary, but the witch didn't want to admit that to herself. Was he dangerous? Of course. 

"Me too," Luffy commented. 

Alright, maybe Luffy had far more confidence than she thought, since he dared to make fun of that fishman, angering him. It wasn't enough that Luffy was hunted down by Arlong, he had to make him angry as well—

What was she scared of? 

She took in a deep breath and a few seconds were enough for her heartbeat to beat at a normal pace. The witch didn't have enough time to worry about consequences, she had to find their weakness quickly and act on it. 

While her focus slipped from them, Luffy was already walking down one of the two pairs of stairs meeting up at the first floor of the restaurant. Arlong threatened the straw hat about something and the first thing she heard was the deafening sound of a shotgun. 

The same sound was followed by a soft chiming filling the silence. 

Her chest tightened since no groan of pain could be heard from anyone. When she glanced at the people downstairs, she saw Zeff — the cook who stitched Zoro up — with a gun pointed at Arlong. However, the fishman only turned his head back and cocked an eyebrow at the cook. 

The bullet was most probably what caused that chiming sound. It seemed like fishmen's scales were bulletproof. 

Fucking great. Her long range fighting style wasn't to her advantage. 

An ounce of fear uncomfortably gnawed at her courage. The witch hated that helpless sensation, as if there was no escape, as if that was her dead end. 

Her fingers gripped tighter around her gun, until the skin turned yellow. 

I can't chicken out now. I don't have the luxury of turning my back against a fight in such a critical situation. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat after she bit so hard onto her lower lip she tasted copper on her tongue. 

Everyone has a weakness, right? Fishmen must have one as well. 

On the floor below, Luffy threw his stretchy arms at Arlong, with his hands curled into fists. Zeff was harshly thrown into a table that broke down, making Sanji jump into action as well. Usopp was the only one that remained upstairs, uselessly hiding behind the decorative wrought iron railing — he could be easily seen. 

Crouching down to Usopp's level, the witch slowly walked towards him with the gun still in her hand. When his eyes fell on her, he blinked like a confused owl. 

"Guns don't work!" he whisper-shouted at her, horror painting his features. 

With a sigh, she grinned cheekily. 

"Are you running, scaredy-cat?" she taunted him with an arched eyebrow. 

"Are you insane?" he frowned when she was a few inches away from him. "You can't seriously believe your gun is gonna do any damage to those monsters." 

Glancing down between the iron bars of the railing, the witch spotted other two fishmen getting up from their table. So there were three in total. 

With an unusually serious tone, she stared into Usopp's eyes, determination oozing out of her. 

"You can't run now, Usopp. I hope you're aware of that."

"Even you hesitated for a second!" 

His nervous demeanor and his over-thinking habits got the best of him at that moment. He was equally scared and amazed by the witch's courage. 

"That was before I realized there's no going back. Usopp," she lowered her tone, fingers gripping at his shirt to bring him down from the clouds. "If you choose to run away, you will never become a brave warrior of the seas. Do you hear yourself? We're not running anywhere. We have to fight if we don't want to leave Luffy and Sanji to deal with the fishmen on their own." 

She wasn't exactly good at motivational speeches, but that seemed to shake his soul well enough. 

"Now help me find out their soft spots so we can bring those idiots down before they destroy this entire restaurant and eat us alive." 

Bullets couldn't penetrate their scales. She didn't know if blades could work any better either. Also, Arlong alone had the highest bounty in the East Blue, not his friends. He was most probably much stronger than them. 

If she could bring down at least one of the other two fishman, it was also a win. 

Then, an idea popped into her head. 

Their eyes. 

They didn't have anything protecting their eyes except for the fact that they were sunk into their faces. With her aim, she had a chance to shoot one of them. She had to take advantage of the fact that no one knew she was there and making a plan. 

Taking in a deep breath, the witch placed the gun between the iron bars and aimed at the fishman with ridiculously big lips. She wasn't exactly that far away, but she had to concentrate. One single miss and everything would go down, since her presence would be obvious and her hand to hand fighting skills weren't that well developed against raw strength. 

She waited patiently, Usopp still by her side. Once the fishman stood still, turned towards her, she pulled the trigger of her gun. 

The bullet struck his eye and he groaned in pain, receiving a proud smile from the witch who quickly hid behind a table from upstairs, dragging Usopp with her. Her heartbeat was so fast in her ears it could leave her deaf. 

She had to pull herself together. 

"You've got good aim," Usopp's voice trembled. 

"Thanks," she breathed out heavily, eyes closing for a second. 

There was an entire tornado in her soul. The witch knew there was no place for running away, but she was equally aware of her disadvantage against fishmen who fight with their fists. 

Zoro would've loved the thrill of this fight. 

But he wasn't there to joke about her being a scared little lady. 

And Nami wasn't there to yell into her face and tell her to wake the fuck up and help her find a better plan. 

Before she had a chance to notice, Usopp was crawling down the stairs on the left once an idea popped into his head, or that was what the witch thought. 

She felt a certain presence walking up the stairs on her right and her eyes widened. The other fishman spotted her.

"Here you were, wench," he spoke with a growl. 

She didn't have enough time to scramble to her feet before a rough hand wrapped around her neck and lifted her up in the air, pushing her against the wall. She could barely even groan when her breathing was restricted by the awfully strong grip the fishman had on her throat. 

Her gun fell from her hand and hit the floor with a weak sound. 

Uselessly, her fingers grabbed at the muscled blue arm holding her up, feet a few inches away from the floor. Compared to him, her grip was weak, insignificant. 

The witch was never the type to necessarily wish to live, but she certainly didn't want to die in that moment, when others' lives were hanging on a thread. 

Also, she didn't want that ugly fucking fishman with big lips to be the last sight before she closed her eyes forever. 

Dammit. 

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58 @katiemrty @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @freyademartel @boofy1998 @ponyboys-sunsets @melsunshine @loveyluv7 @waddlingwanderer @jesssssmaybankk @nadlx33333 @yoong1c0re @untoldshortsofthefandoms @mizzy-pop

[captainlunaxmen]

All for the Cameras

Chapter 5

Finnick Odair x reader

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰

Chapter summary: we'll find a bit more about the reader's past.

Chapter warnings: murder, threat, well.. it's the Hunger Games.

⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️

I'll tag you all on this chapter again to let you all know.ow that this is the blog I'll post the next chapters from now on... since the other one is inoperable. ❤️❤️❤️

@guacam011y @justtrying2getby @idontevenknow1359 @alexandra-001 @bambikitten @maggiecc @redh00dsbf @haneybunny @1-800-styles @sisiking99 @merromimo @yourdailymemedelivery @regsg18 @gordorio @bambikitten @gracieeleanorr @shev3nom @honethatty12 @savingprivatecass @erindiggory @martahabla @sterredem @aawdrea @wpdarlingpan @strawberry--fawn @barbarathewanderer @ih8books @a-mysterious-potato @mayonesavegana @celinaiscrying @katherinejess

I'm sorry if it doesn't let me tag everyone 😔

Masterlist

"Hi, my love."

"Finnick." I shortly reply, using all my strength not to look at him.

There's a short pause before he speaks up.

"What did he want?" He asks.

"To remind me that after we're married I'll be... his." I sigh.

"He wishes." He lets out a soft laugh and I follow, "you look good in that." He then says, nodding to my outfit.

"I'll let you borrow it sometimes." I joke and he chuckles.

"Switching clothes... I like it. I'm sure you'd look a lot better with this on than me." He points at the fish net tied around him.

"Well, the Capitol seemed to appreciate you in it."

"I thought I've been clear earlier," he starts to get closer, "your eyes are the only ones I care about," he lifts my chin up to look at him, "and your lips are the only thing I can think of."

"Finnick..." I weakly warn and he pulls away, going to lean against the opposite wall.

"I could be dead in a week..." he starts.

"Don't say that..."

"I could be dead in a week," he ignores me, "and all I can think about is you. Being with you. All the things I would love to do to you right here, right now... well... actually all night and everywhere, "he laughs embarrassed, I don't think I've ever seen him embarrassed like this before, "I would love to scream to the world how much..."

"Stop it." I basically order him.

"I could be dead in a week." He bitterly laugh, "and I can't even get a kiss."

"Finnick..."

"I'm not blaming you, I want you to know that. If I were to kiss you right now, I don't think I would be able to stop and... they would probably catch us and... they could hurt you. Because I could be dead in a week, but you might have a chance anyway."

I just hug him. Tightly, like if I were to let go he would disappear forever. When I feel his arms around me, I sigh, feeling safe. He kisses the top of my head, holding me just as tight.

I pull away just enough to look at him.

"Don't you ever say that again, you hear me? I hear you say it again and I will kill you myself." I warn him, tears threatening to fall.

"Yes, ma'am." He smiles.

I nod and pull away completely, blinking away the tears.

"Tomorrow morning the training sessions start at 8. Not that you need any, but... it might be a good chance to make allies." I tell him, "just... put the flirting aside, okay?"

"Jealous?" He teases.

"I'm just trying to keep you alive, at least, until the beginning for the Games." I tease back, earning a laugh from Finnick.

"You can joke about it and I can't?"

"You weren't joking, Finnick." I reminds him.

"You're right." He smiles, guilty, "Thank you."

The elevator signals we're at 12's apartments.

"I thought you press for 4."

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let a woman go home on her own?" He smirks.

I roll my eyes, failing in hiding a smile.

"Go get some sleep, gentleman." I say.

"Yes, ma'am."

The doors close and I head to the kitchen to get a drink.

"Well, hello." Haymitch greets me from his spot on the couch.

"Tell me you didn't finish the liquor already." I joke walking to the cupboard to take a glass.

"I actually prepared a glass for you," he tells me, showing me the glass, "c'mon. "

I playfully roll my eyes and walk to sit on the couch with him.

We just sit there. Keeping each other company until it's so late we can't do anything but go to sleep.

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

I walk around each station of the training rooms to see if anyone need help, but as expected, no one does. They all probably know this place like the back of their hand, being first tributes and then mentors.

I keep an eye on Katniss and Peeta, to see if they're actually putting an effort in making allies... Katniss especially.

I see them walking around, inspecting the other tributes. A good part of the tribute is trying to show off, to intimidate them, most likely. I see Johanna smirking in Katniss' direction, so I look up at Plutarch sighing. Making Katniss trust any of them is gonna be harder than expected... a lot harder.

Peeta is now talking with one of the Morphlings, by the camouflage station, while Katniss is talking to Wiress and Beetee.

In my opinion they're a good choice, they're brilliant, but they're not very strong, and they need some strength too. Unfortunately the strongest one are also the cockiest one.

Speaking of cocky victors... I can't seem to find Finnick anywhere.

But I notice Katniss walking to Mags.

I would choose Mags, but because I know about the plan... Katniss doesn't, I don't understand what she's doing.

I keep on watching everyone until I feel a presence behind me.

"What do you think her strategy is?" Finnick asks from next to me.

"I... I have no idea." I sigh defeated. "But I can't exactly blame her."

"How so?"

"Look at everyone. Each victor either has a cocky, a challenging grin, or a hateful grin on their faces. Not very welcoming. Especially when she has to choose who to trust." I explain.

"That's her only choice though." He replies.

"I know," I sigh again and turn to look at him, noticing just now the rope around his neck, "what the hell is that?"

"What?" He fakes innocence.

"I told you, not to joke about it." I sigh annoyed, walking away from him. Noticing Katniss went into the simulator.

"I was just practicing," He laughs, "you know this is the best knot to learn for the arena."

"I swear, half of the time all I want to do is punch you." I shake my head, stopping to watch Katniss practice.

"And the other half?" He asks, and I don't have to look at him to know he's smirking, proud of himself.

"Punch you harder." I tease back, earning a surprised chuckle from him.

As Kantiss starts more people gather around to watch too.

"She has trust issues, doesn't she?" Johanna stands beside me, looking ahead.

"Maybe don't smirk while wielding an axe next time." I sarcastically reply and she scoffs.

We all stand watching Katniss using her skills and once she's done, everyone is at least impressed, which makes me smirk, proudly. Wiress is actually cheering, clapping her hands and that makes me smile genuinely.

----------

"Good news!" Haymitch cheers as we enter the apartment. "At least half of the Tributes want you as an ally."

"Well, they saw her shoot." Peeta adds.

"Well, sweetheart, you got your pick of the litter." Haymitch tells her.

"Choose carefully." I suggest.

"I want Wiress and Beetee. " She states, with no hesitation.

"Johanna calls them 'Nuts' and 'Volts'." Peeta says.

"They're still the smarter out there. And you need smart." I, subtly, scold him.

"Well, okay, good. Now who else?" Asks Haymitch.

"Mags."

I have no argument to defend her choice... unfortunately.

Peeta turns around, frustrated. Well, I'd be too.

"All right, fine, then no one." Katniss sternly says.

Haymitch and I share a look. We already know we will have to do it ourselves.

"I'll tell them you're still making up your mind." He says before walking away and I follow him, after sending a reassuring smile to Peeta.

"What should we do?" Haymitch asks, once we're alone.

"We will have to make allies for them." I answer, crossing my arms.

"Yeah," he sighs, "I'll start with Johanna, you talk to Finnick."

"You talk to Finnick, I'll talk to Johanna." I tell him.

"And why's that?" He mimics me, crossing his arms, there's a smirk growing on his face.

"... no reason." I avoid his eyes.

"Mh mh..." he hums, "Are you going to be attending the solo performances?"

"Nope." I answer, "I have...wedding duties to attend to."

"Fuck..." he swears, "I don't wanna be in your shoes, princess."

"Yeah... tell me about it." I groan, fighting the urge to pull at my hair.

"What's the plan?"

"Venue hunting... I think... I don't know" I let out a puff, "or maybe, Cal wants to tell me what he decided."

"Sounds more like it." He pulls me to him for a reassuring side hug, "it's his wedding, after all."

"Yeah." I laugh, and pull away, "I'm just an accessory. He will probably decide my dress too."

"Of course he will." He sighs, before he can say more, an Avox approaches up with an envelope in hand, handing it to me.

"Speak of the devil..." I sigh, opening Cal's letter.

"I'm sure the devil would be offended by that." Haymitch playfully scolds me.

"Sorry, I'll apologise when I see him. I'd gladly go to hell than meet up with Cal." I joke back, still reading the letter. "He's apparently waiting for me... eagerly."

"How romantic." He mutters, "will you be here tonight? For the scores?"

"I hope so." I say, "I'll make sure of it."

"Still be careful, princess." He nods his head, "and keep..."

" 'those eyes open', I know." I wink and walk away to the elevator, hoping the day will faster than I hope.

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

I don't have time to even walk out of the elevator that Cal's hand is already grabbing my wrist, excitedly leading me to the big table in his huge apartment, where a well dressed man and two assistants, I think, stand.

"Come, come, my sweetness. Mr Travers, here, was just about to tell me a great news, apparently." Cal makes me sit in a chair in front of him, so he can rest his hands on my shoulders. The gesture only makes me feel more trapped.

"Oh, yes, yes." Mr Travers nods, proudly holding his hand out to his assistant, who immediately hands him a paper. "I was coming here with the intention of showing you the options I gathered for your special day, but..."

Capitol people and their fucking theatrical manner...

"But..?" Cal presses, getting impatient.

"But I received a call this morning, just when I put the last picture in the bag... from our so loved President Snow." Mr Travers announces and I tense, "he had an incredible idea, as always. He offered his mansion as a venue for your wedding." He put the photo of the mansion down on the table.

Of fucking course.

"Really?" Cal's hold on me feels even tighter than before... maybe it is, or maybe it's just Snow's control caging me in.

Once the man nods enthusiastically, Cal shouts excited.

"That's wonderful!" He turns to me, "isn't it?"

"Wonderful." I repeat with a forced smile.

"How generous!" He comments.

"He also offered to..." again with the theatre.

"Well?"

"He volunteer to formalise the wedding himself."

"He said that?" I ask, shocked.

"Exact words." Travers nods.

'Volunteer'...

"It's going to be amazing," Cal is back behind me, his hands around my neck in what could seem an affectionate gesture, stroking my skin gently, but it's actually more suffocating than a snake hold.

They both go on and on and on talking about the wedding, as if I'm not even here.

The cake's gonna be like this, the chairs like that, the flowers, the centre-piece, the food, the music...

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, real quick, excuse me." I say standing up, and hurrying to the bathroom near the bedroom.

I try to take deep breath, looking at the time, the solo performances are about to finish. I need to find an excuse to get out. They're not even asking me anything... I scoff at my reflection in the mirror, then I wash my face and open the door.

I gasp when I come face to face with Cal.

"Cal!" I exclaim, immediately faking a laugh. "What..."

"He's gone. We almost got through everything." He tells me.

"Already?" I ask, pretending to be sad I lost it.

"Yeah, gotta be prepared. We should get married when the Quartel Quell is over, and we don't know how long it will last. Maybe two days or two weeks.. gotta be prepared." He smiles.

"Of course." I nod, "well, then I should go. I have to be present, you know, when they announce the scores."

I try to walk past him, but he doesn't move a muscle, enjoying the closeness.

He wraps an arm around my waist to pull me even closer, leaning down so our noses touch.

"How about..." he starts, "you stay here a little longer, uh? We could have some fun together. It's been a while."

"I wish... I really do," I try to come up with the most sorry expression I can, "but I do need to get back. And since we finished earlier than expected, I should take advantage of that. I still have a duty to do."

"Oh please! I miss you." His hold gets a little tighter and he pouts, "Stay. I miss you, I miss your touch... your body... fuck... you still have no idea what you do to me, don't you?"

"Cal, trust me, no one is more sorry than I am, but I have a job to do," I cup his cheek with one hand and he leans into my touch, "Snow counts on me."

"Not even a few minutes?" He tries again and I shake my head, "Okay..."

"I'm sorry." I say, even though inside I'm hitching to run out of here.

I gently pull away from him and walk to the living room to grab my jacket, all of this feeling his eyes on me, constantly.

"I'll go now." I turn to him, to check if he is far enough for my liking and walk back to the elevator.

"Sure."

Before I can walk into the elevator, he grabs my hand, spin me to face him and crashes his lips on mine. His hands grabs everything he can reach. I try to push him off, as subtly as I can, but his touch just intensifies.

Thankfully, before I start to fully panic, he pulls away, just a little, still touching my lips with his, slightly.

"Once we're married..." he pants, "I'm never... ever letting you go." He lets out a breathless chuckle that only makes my skin crawl. "And, hopefully, I'll have no more competition for your attention. I'll make sure of it."

"Yeah." Is all I can say.

Once the elevator's doors open I rush in.

Finally the doors are fully closed and I can breath again.

'I'll make sure of it.' He said...

Finnick.

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

"Hey," Peeta is the first one to greet me as I walk back into the apartment, "you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Uh? Yeah... yeah, all fine." I force out a smile, I notice Haymitch watching me carefully, with a look that seems to say 'we'll talk about it' and I just nod, "so... what did I miss?"

"Oh these two basically put a big target o their own backs." Haymitch states.

"We didn't..." Peeta starts, but Haymitch stops him.

"Our Baker here painted little Rue on the floor. Girl on fire over there hanged a mannequin," he pauses, "after painting Seneca Crane's beard and name on it."

I'm lost for words, I look at both Peeta and Katniss, Peeta doesn't meet my eyes, he doesn't seem remorseful, but still he probably doesn't want to see my discontent. Katniss look at me, no trace of remorse or sorrow, but kind of proud.

"Not a smart move, I give you that," I say to Haymitch who nods thankful, "but it was a damn brave one."

Haymitch looks at me dumbfounded and shakes his head, defeated.

Katniss softly smiles at me and Peeta finally look up at me with a proud grin.

"It's starting." Effie tells us, and we all gather in front of the TV and Ceasar starts listing the tributes' scores

"Has anyone ever received a 0?" Katniss wonders.

-----

It's 12's turn.

"Oh god..." I scoff at the perfect 12 score for both Peeta and Katniss.

"Here, I present to you," Haymitch points at the TV, "the consequences.'

"What do you mean?" Peeta asks.

"They didn't give you a perfect 12 because they were impressed by your performances." I say.

"They did that to make sure that now the other Tributes know who to aim for." Haymitch finishes. "Both of you."

I see Haymitch sends an accusatory look at Katniss knowing they just made our job at protecting Peeta harder.

"Well, the damage is done... better go all to get some sleep." I say with a sigh, "we'll have enough time tomorrow to get ready for the interviews."

Everybody nods and walks to the respective rooms. Effie walks past me, squeezing my hand, reassuringly, I smile at her and watch her go.

I turn around to Haymitch, already looking at me.

"Drink?" He sighs, I nod and follow him to the kitchen.

I sit by the counter as he pours two glasses of wine, I think... I don't really care.

"Thanks." I say as he hands me a glass.

"What happened?" He finally asks, sitting with me.

"Well... for starters the wedding venue is going to be, by courtesy of our kind President, his mansion." I start, then take a bug gulp of wine.

"How kind." Haymitch sarcastically comments.

"Then, since he is, oh so kind and oh so selfless, he will be the one to make us husband and... wife." I say the last part with a shudder.

"Control freak."

I nod and take another big gulp of alcohol.

"But I don't think that's what got you so jumpy." He puts his glass down and gives me his full attention.

"Cal was going through everything with the planner quickly, and they finished just as quickly, so I took the chance and said my goodbye. He caught me off guard and... well he kissed me and he then said he can't wait to be married and all... with no competition," I take a shaky breath, "he said he'd make sure of it."

There's a heavy silence, then Haymitch takes my hand.

"The fisherman is too stubborn to let some spoiled cunt take him out. In any way possible." He reassures me and I can't help, but smile at his choice of word.

"Yeah... maybe you're right." I say squeezing his hand grateful.

"He can't do anything to him from here. He can pay whoever he wants... but your man is hard to get rid of." He winks and I roll my eyes, "you should know that."

"He... he is not my man. Okay? I'm just worried." I defend myself.

"Sure... sure." He stands up to walk to his room, "get some sleep. So tomorrow you can warn 'not your man'. Just in case."

"Shut up."

He turns his back to me, but still raises his glass to me, and I softly laugh.

I decide to go sit by the window, to clear my head or just distract myself.

As I sit by the window with my glass, I take the remote so I can change the view. I skip a few until I get to one that actually makes me relax: the shore.

As I look out towards the artificial view I can't help to think back at when Finnick was announced winner of his Games.

After he was brought back, I managed to let him have a moment to realise he won. That time he hugged like he was afraid of being taken away again. He cried his eyes out as I tried all I could to reassure him. None of us knew what would've happened a few years later...

I almost drop the glass in my hand when I hear someone approaching. I relax once I notice it's Katniss.

"Hi." She says, "didn't mean to scare you."

"You never do." I gently smile at her, "is it the only way we can actually spend some time together?" I jest, remembering the night on the train.

"I'm afraid so." She jokes, "I needed a glass of water."

"Did Peeta need one too?" I ask, pointing to the two glasses in her hands. She seems taken off guard, but doesn't answer, she just puts the glasses down and come sit with me.

"Can I ask you a favour?" She softly says.

"I will try my best to save Peeta. Well, I'll try to get you both as far as I can, anyway." I tell her, thinking that's what she wanted to ask.

"No... no, I know you will." She says, "I wanted to ask you...."

"What?" I look at her, trying to make her feel safe enough to speak up.

"Would you look after my family?" She finally asks. I'm a little take aback by that, but my body relaxes more, feeling my heart getting warmer because she trusts me enough to take care of her family.

"You didn't need to ask me that." I gently tell her, "I would've, regardless."

"Really?" She asks.

"Of course, Katniss... I..." I take a deep breath, "I know what it's like to feel helpless and not being able to protect your family."

She looks at me, confused. "What happened?"

"I had a brother, Ray." I say, my voice breaking a little, Katniss' features soften, "do you know how I became Snow's 'protégé'?"

She shakes her head.

"My parents worked for him, apparently they were both very loyal and hard working." I start to explain, "when they died, he thought to take us in, to show Panem how generous he was, you know. It was all good for a while, he kind of taught me a lot, unfortunately, but the problems started when he assigned me to help the mentors." Kantiss nods as I speak, attentive, "after a while I couldn't take it anymore. I always got attached to the tributes, and seeing them killed in the arena was... devastating. And I made the mistake of asking him if I could stop. He didn't like it."

"He killed your brother for that?" She asks, I notice tears in her eyes forming.

"He imprisoned him, and threatened if I said no to him again he would've killed him." I tell her, "so I had to keep on assisting the mentors. Then... Finnick won. Which was the happiest day of my life, not only because I didn't want him to die, but also because I thought that maybe... just maybe, Snow would've let me see my brother. He didn't." I take a shaky breath, "when I turned sixteen he asked me to do something, he wanted to give me another 'assignment'... one I really didn't want to do. He had my brother brought into his office... then he had him killed." I notice a tear falling from her eyes as I wipe my own away, "he kept his word. He showed me he always kept his word. I wanted to die in that moment, I wanted to attack him so the Peacekeeper would shoot me, but he predicted that. Told me if I tried to get myself killed in anyway all my friends would die... and my friends included the tributes. Mentors I met, and tributes who won and I accompanied during the victory tour."

"He got you caged." Katniss says softly and I nod. "I knew I misjudged you when I first met you. But I never thought..."

"I know." I sadly smile at her, "I never blamed you."

"I'm really sorry."

"He keeps say that it's the things we love the most that destroy us." I look out the window again, "which is true... but as members of the human race we can't live without love. So I guess we are doomed." I bitterly chuckle.

"Love also makes us strong."

We both turn around to see Peeta standing there.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I also didn't want to interrupt." He apologies, genuinely sorry.

"It's okay. I care about you both, I wanted to share my story with you for a while, but I mean... it's not something you just casually say." I shrug.

"No, it's not. Thank you for trusting us." Katniss says.

"No." I shake my head, "Thank you for trusting me."

They both smile at me.

"Do you want us to keep you company?" Peeta asks.

"Go get some sleep, you need it. I'm okay." I reassure them.

"It's not a problem." Katniss tries.

"I'm fine." I smile at her, "I better try to get some sleep myself, anyway."

I stand up, Katniss soon follows, and walk with them until we're in front of Peeta's room.

"Goodnight." I smile at them.

"Goodnight."

"'Night."

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

I'm bouncing my leg as I wait for the elevator to stop at the 4th floor so I can finally talk to Finnick.

Once the doors open I rush in finding Finnick with Mags at the table. I stand here a moment, looking at how normal they look, talking. Like a family, and not like two people about to be sent into a deadly arena.

Then, Finnick's eyes move and lock with mine. His smile brightens for a moment, before noticing my fidgeting hands, then it turns serious.

"Y/n?"

Mags turns to me too, she stands up once she notices my nerves.

"I... I need to talk to Finnick." I say.

Mags walks past me, after giving my hands a good reassuring squeeze, then she leaves us alone.

"Is something wrong?" Finnick asks, standing up too and walking to me.

I lead him to the window so we can sit and talk.

"I... well...uh... yesterday I had to go see Cal," I start, and notice Finnick jaw already tensing, "for the wedding... he and the planner finished rather quickly and when I was leaving... uh..."

"Did he hurt you?" He asks, immediately looking for any sign on me.

"No, no, no." I quickly assure him, "it's what he said."

"What did he say?"

"He said he can't wait to marry me and to finally have me all to himself... with no competition." I look him in the eyes, he frowns, "he said he would make sure of it."

"What... what does it mean?" He asks.

"It means... you need to be more careful in the arena." I sternly say.

"Do you think he would try something?"

"I don't know. He does have enough money to corrupt any other Gamemaker, but the last word is always the Head Gamemaker, but... uh... just be careful." I say, with a soft voice, "Please..."

He looks at me with his sweet eyes and takes my hand in his.

"I will."

"Promise me." I literally order him.

He holds my hand tighter, serious eyes locked on mine.

"I promise you."

I nod, taking a deep breath, not relieved, but a little calmer.

"Thank you." I let out a big sigh and pull myself together, "Alright, uhm... the interviews will start at 8... the usual stuff, you know the drill.." I stand up.

"Thanks." He smiles, standing as well.

We look at each other, the world seems to disappear, his eyes are all I care about on this moment. I make the mistake of looking at his lips for a second, my eyes move quickly between his eyes and his lips, anxiously. He notices and comes closer, taking my hands once again.

"It's okay." He whispers.

"It's really not, but I appreciate the lie." I sadly chuckle, and he does too, caressing my hands.

"You're right, it's not okay. But it's not your fault." He reassures me, "okay?"

I nod and he pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me reassuringly.

"You're the one who has to fight for his life... and here you are... comforting me." I mutter, pulling away.

"Yeah, well... you're the one who'll have to deal with Cal Kingslay, not me." He jokes and I laugh, showing his slightly.

"Hard to tell which is worse." I play along.

I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder, I turn around to Mags worried face.

"It's okay." I tell her, she then points at me insistingly, "I am okay, I promise."

She smiles sweetly at me, then points at Finnick then at herself, with a determined look, to tell me she's going to take care of him in the arena.

"Take care of each other. Okay?" I ask her and she nods.

"We will." Finnick rubs my arm, comforting.

"Okay... okay, I do have to go and get my tributes ready" I tell them.

"We'll see you tonight then?" He asks as he leads me to the elevator.

"I'll be in the audience." I smile at him.

"The only reason to be on that stage tonight." He grins, "so I can properly look at you."

"Finnick.." I playfully warn him.

"What?" He fake innocence, "I will flirt with you for as long as I can."

"You're insufferable." I roll my eyes and enter the elevator. "Careful on what you say tonight."

He nods, a sweet childish smile grows on his face.

"I'll see you tonight, my love." He says just before the doors close, preventing me from scolding him more.

I shake my head and deeply sigh. As the elevator goes back up to 12, I start to think of a way to properly protect them all in the arena. I know Plutarch will help, but too much help will get suspicious... and if Cal manages to pay someone, it would get harder.

I'm not losing any of them.

I'm not losing him.