#and we're only in chapter 1.. >|o

[parksrway]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHEIK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this au has been ruining my life for 4 years now

[thrashtrashh]

[DELTARUNE CHAPTER 3 and 4 SPOILERS AHEAD (WEIRD ROUTE INCLUDED)!!!] STRANGE, STRANGE TRACKS

edit 2: this whole theory has fallen apart because im illiterate and didnt see that there were two T's so pawn to c doesn't make any sense except if it's stuttering like pawn t-to c (i still think its kris communicating to us through the soundtrack though since music is how they express themselves)

There's a weird thing I noticed with the release of Chapter 3+4's soundtrack, and its that some of its tracks aren't stylized with uppercase letters. What I mean is that, in most songs, you'd start with an uppercase letter for each noun in the title like "The Third Sanctuary" for example. However, there are a few songs in the Chapter 4 OST (and only Chapter 4) that aren't stylized like that, and instead the nouns after the first word are all in lowercase. This could just be a mistake, but its consistent throughout every soundtrack release, Spotify, Soundcloud, YouTube, Bandcamp (update: not on Apple Music as was pointed out to me in the comments by kysafe, but it looks like most song titles on Apple Music were improperly capitalized, as is the case with all capital songs like ANOTHER HIM and GUARDIAN), so I don't think it's a silly mistake.

I think that these tracks mean something.

Let's take a look at the tracks first:

- Old wooden rafters - Another day in hometown - The distance between two - Wise words - Piano that may not be played that well - Need a hand?! - The place where it rained - Concert for you

As you can see, those are a lot of tracks. Way too many for it all to just be a coincidence. So what could it all mean? Well, I've got a couple of thoughts.

1. Anagrams, Toby's favorite thing

This was my first thought when seeing this whole thing. It could be an anagram for something. While skimming through the tracks at first, I missed "Wise words" so I was initially left with the letters O, A, T, P, N and C, each corresponding to the first letter of the song titles. I noticed that it could spell out something similar to "CONTACT", although a C was missing. That's when I skimmed through the tracks again and found Carol's theme, simply titled C, the only track that's just a singular letter of the alphabet, so it was good enough to me at first to. This can give us something like "CONTACT P", as in "CONTACT PLAYER". It was an interesting thought that was however swiftly debunked, or alternatively, dunked into the nearest trash can, when I noticed that "Wise words" had that same improper capitalization, so there was a W in the mix, leaving me with O, A, T, W, P, N, C. This could've led me to a lot of places, but the anagram that stuck out to me the most is "PAWN TO C" as in, a pawn to C Holiday. Carol. This ties into my second thought.

2. This is Kris communicating to us

Kris has to live with us controlling their actions. Sure they can rip us out of their body, but for some reason, they won't talk or interact with anyone as long as we're not with them (except for the Chapter 4 Weird Route, where they bring Berdly to the hospital and apologize to Noelle while we're not looking). We basically stripped them from any means of expressing themselves. Almost. There's that scene where they play the organ without our input in the Church's Dark World, and also when they think we're still trapped in the vent room, where they go up to the Holiday's piano in the kitchen and play some rocking tunes. Music is how they express themselves. And I believe that it's their only way to communicate with us: through the literal soundtrack of the game. This might be weird, considering that while some of these tracks ARE heavily personal to Kris (the Church, Dess, Hometown), two of them are not related to them at all, those being "Wise words" and "Need a hand?!", which are Gerson related.

However, this might as well be Gerson talking to us as well. He's one of the most knowledgeable characters we've ever met, with an awareness of the world only rivaled by Flowey. It wouldn't be too far-fetched to assume that he's talking to us, the player directly, especially since one of the tracks is literally named "Need a hand?!" not a question to Kris, Susie or Ralsei, but to us, the player, being as confused on how to defeat the Titan as the rest of the cast, if not even more confused. This leads me to my final thought.

3. Kris and Carol are in cahoots

It seems pretty obvious, considering that at the end of the Chapter 4 weird route, we get a call with Carol's voice blip, and also the fact that right after the phone call between Kris and the strange voice in the kitchen, Carol comes barging into the house. We also see how close they are through Carol's dialogue with Kris, telling them that they can come whenever they want. But this message "PAWN TO C", sheds a better light on their relationship. It probably isn't mutually beneficial. It probably isn't something that Kris wants to be a part of at all. Kris is a pawn to Carol Holiday, and they're also a pawn to us, the player. They've spent the better part of their life being controlled by forces outside of their control, the Mayor of the literal town/mom of their childhood friend (and for the better part of their life only friend), and an incomprehensible entity controlling them from across space time/us the player.

I don't know if that could fuel the theory that Carol is the Knight, but I just thought it's something interesting to note. I haven't seen anyone else post about this, so I hope I'm the first one to do it. If not, then oh well, that's just how cowboy shows go I s'ppose...

(edited for better clarity)

[saffusthings]

It's Written All Over Your Face

oscar piastri x personal assistant! reader

summary: the one where they learn feelings can be messy. and weird. word count: 15.9k (...) warnings: abuse aftermath, a sprinkle of angst, don't try this at home kids, poorly edited writing a/n: i have a love/hate relationship with my writing of this chapter, but it seems alright. but it's got a couple scenes i'm excited for y'all to see :) also mc is a Hot Mess but i love her sm

Part 1 | Part 2

“O- Oscar,” she trembles, too busy to be bothered to be professional. “I think s- something’s wrong…”

He pulls her in tightly, letting her head rest against his shoulder. 

"Shhh," he whispers. "I'm here. It's okay."

He's trying to be strong for her. He knows that she needs it right now, and even though something inside him is vibrating with fear.

She covered another cough with her hand, only to find it smeared a deep red.

Oh, that's blood. 

"Y/N, what happened?" He finds himself asking, even though he already knows the answer.

“I don- I don’t know,” she wheezes.

It’s been a few minutes since Oscar went into the bathroom. Lando also doesn’t hear any of the tell tale signs of two people… well, getting it on - so tentatively, he calls out for his teammate. “Everything alright, Osc?”

"No" Oscar finally manages to get out, his voice choked and thick. "Things don’t look too good. Can you… Can you go get help?"

“What?” Lando rushes in at the first sign that something is not right.

He turns to give Lando a panicked look, his eyes wide and desperate. "I don't know what's wrong - just go get help or something!" he demands, desperate for someone, anyone to help them. 

He wants to run his fingers through her hair again - wants to be able to soothe her - but he's worried he'll make it worse somehow. 

This can't be happening. This isn’t fair.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come t-to lunch. I was g- going to, b-but…”

Her hands feel cold. Why are they cold?

"No, no," he says, giving her his most convincing smile. "Don't talk, don't apologize - just breathe. Breathe." 

He's saying the words just as much to himself, he thinks. His mouth has gone completely dry, and he's sweating profusely. He can't tell if it's from the heat or terror or both.

Lando grabs his keys and reappears in a moment. “We’re going to the hospital. I’ll drive.”

He nods numbly, before forcing himself to think straight. This is not the time.

He tries to figure out how to do that. He's going to have to do most of the work here, but she's already weak as it is. He's going to have to try and carry her. When they finally reach the car, what feels like months later, Lando gestures for Oscar to ride in the back with her.

“Think she’d want you with her,” he explains quietly, before opening the driver’s seat and getting in. Oscar gives the older man a nod, climbing into the back of the car. 

She's so out of it now, his efforts to sit her up only causing her to cough harder. He tries to keep his hold on her strong, trying his best to keep her upright on his lap so she'll have an easier time breathing. 

"It's okay," he keeps whispering to her, countless times. "It's okay."

“It…” Her speech is getting more and more strained as time passes. “Hurts.”

He gives her a pained smile, trying to hide how absolutely horrible this is really going. 

"Hey, I know it hurts right now," he says quietly. "But it's all going to be okay. We're on our way to the hospital now, okay? You've just gotta hold on. You can do that, can't you? Hold on for me, I know you can."

She wraps one of her hands around one of his. The touch is soft, gentle.

It takes him a few minutes to realize that it’s meant to be a firm grip on his hand.

He feels completely useless - more useless than he's felt in his life. He wants to be able to do something, help her out in some way - but he can't. He's helpless here, completely at the mercy of whatever is happening to her right now. 

That's something that makes his stomach turn in terror. He's never been this scared for someone else's life before - and he doesn't like it.

As her eyes become half-lidded, he turns to face Lando.

“What do I do? Something is wrong with her, and I can’t tell what the fuck it is,” Oscar asks, frustrated, an undercurrent of panic in his tone.

"Hey, hey, just concentrate on getting her to stay awake, okay? She just needs to stay conscious. Just keep her talking, just anything. Doesn't matter what it is," he reassures him - although honestly, he's feeling just as scared, just as anxious as Oscar. His friend is coughing up blood in his backseat, and these cars ahead just won’t fucking move. In his mind, all he keeps hoping for is that they'll make it just one damn minute closer to the hospital. Just one more minute.

He starts to rub her sides gently - trying to get her to focus. His face is the picture of calm, a soft small on his lips as he soothes her.

"I'm sorry I got grumpy at you earlier. You didn't deserve that. I'll make it up to you later, I promise," he says.

“…Yeah?” She smiles weakly, trying to make him feel a bit better.

"Yeah, I will," he says, trying to sound brave. 

Once they reach the hospital, Oscar wraps her arms around his shoulders as he works to prop her up, supporting her weight. He ends up looping an arm underneath both of hers, before he practically drags her along with him. They inch towards the doors of the emergency room, Oscar hoping against all hope that she's still conscious. 

He can manage anything - he'll work through absolutely anything if she's okay. 

There are no clear images - the entire rush of the hospital sounds like it’s happening… underwater?

She can vaguely register that she’s in someone’s arms - probably Oscar’s. The ceiling lights look more like blurry blobs, disfigured and unclear. She tries her best to keep her eyes open.

Oscar is the one to spot a couple of nurses walking out of the double doors, and instantly, starts striding up to them in a panic. "Excuse me? Help, please!" he calls out desperately. 

He's trying to keep his voice from shaking, trying to get her to a hospital bed - and fast. His voice draws the gaze of the nurses, who look at them in astonishment, their eyes widening at the sight of the blood on her shirt. Immediately, they snap out of their stupor and get to work. 

"Bring the gurney over!" one of them cries out, as they push one the double doors open, allowing him to rush into the hospital - the girl now limp in his arms.

“…O-Osc?”

He hears the sound of her small voice, the word coming out broken and barely there. She’s speaking, barely, and for now, this is enough assurance for him that she's okay. 

"Oh, hey - it's okay, we're at the hospital now. You're gonna be okay, okay? Just hold on to me a little longer. We're gonna get you to a doctor, and it's all gonna be good - you'll see," he tries to reassure her, his hands gripping her shoulders gently - keeping her in his arms.

“I can’t-“ she wheezes out. “Can’t–“

He hears the sound of her labored breathing, and his eyes widen in panic. 

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay,” he coos gently.” You don't have to talk - just keep breathin’, alright? You just have to keep breathing," he tells her, voice straining to stay even, his knuckles going white with how hard they're gripping her.

“Can’t breathe–“ she finally manages to get out.

His eyes search desperately around for help, for a nurse, a doctor, somebody to come and help her. He’s just about to resume shouting for help when, like a breath of fresh air, he hears the clatter of the gurney being wheeled in, and two nurses pushing it up to him - ready to load her into the gurney. 

"Just stay awake," he tells her desperately, his face going deathly pale as she is shifted from his grasp. He only just manages to keep the sob of relief in his throat as he watches them wheel her away from him, towards a trauma room.

The sound around him feels like it fades in and out - distant shouts for an IV, for blood, about a fracture causing a lung puncture leading to internal bleeding. Time is too slow and too fast all at once. 

When something pulls at the corner of his mind, it’s only then that Oscar sees Lando trying to get his attention. He feels Lando gently nudging him again, trying to pull him away from the trauma room door - and his head snaps up, almost as if he's been woken up from a deep sleep.

"Huh?" he repeats back to Lando blankly. He blinks and shakes his head, feeling the fogginess in his mind start to clear a little. "What'd you say?"

He feels a little lightheaded - and it takes him a moment to realize it's from the fact that he's still not breathing right, too busy trying to listen to the nurses talk to the doctor through the door. Lando looks at him with a sympathetic expression, pulling him further from the door. "Come on, mate. She's gonna be alright. They've got it handled." 

He lets Lando shepherd him towards some of the waiting room chairs - a little bit further away from the door - as he listens desperately, trying to get some hint of what was happening from the murmurs inside. 

The only things that actually register in his mind is what he's pretty sure is the sound of beeping heart rate monitors - and the sound of the nurse informing the doctor that there's more bleeding somewhere then they'd originally thought.

For a second time, Lando's voice is what breaks his train of thought.

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he starts cautiously, afraid of setting off an emotional trigger of some sort. “But… do we know what happened?”

He blinks, and tries to focus on Lando, and not the faint sounds coming from the trauma room a few feet away. "I don't know," he tells Lando honestly, his eyes going cold like he's about to say something that he really just doesn't want to admit. "… But I'm betting it had something to do with her parents."

Lando’s not sure he understands. While he doesn’t know the exact nature of whatever is going on between Oscar and his assistant, he knows there’s something there. And he’s willing to bet that that means Oscar is the one who probably knows the most here.

His brows furrow. “What, like she’s sick?”

The younger man  nods, his jaw tightening slightly. "Yeah, you could say that."

"I'm fine, Lando," he says quietly when Lando seems to continue to hover nearby - because he thinks maybe Lando's concerned about him, and he needs his best friend to understand that right now, he's okay. "I'm just worried about her."

“And why’s that?” Lando asks knowingly.

"Because she-" he stops himself again, realizing that the one thing he doesn't want to say about her is exactly what he's just about to blurt out. But before he can utter another word, their attention is stolen by commotion in the trauma room.

His head immediately snaps up, eyes wide as he takes in the noise. The heart rate monitor sounds different - the rhythm of the beeping is somehow even more intense. It makes a strange sense of panic encroaching across his chest - the way suspense music in horror movies are meant to, except a dozen times worse. 

He can make out the sounds of nurses shouting different medical directives and things to each other. 

What the hell is going on in there?

His throat tightens as he takes in the noise. There’s shouting - they're commanding each other to do things, and it sounds like discord. It sounds too hurried, and incessant beeping of  the heart rate monitor doesn’t ease up either.. 

Lando spares a quick glance to check on Oscar, worried for him. He knows this cant be easy for him, and yet, Oscar's face has the serenity of a blank slate. He then turns his attention back to the room, trying to observe and figure out what’s going on through the small windows on the doors to the trauma room. Oscar, of course, does the same.

He can barely see anything through the little window. 

It's all flashes of movement, and he's not even sure which colours belong to who - but whatever is happening, it's happening really fast. The nurses are still shouting and the heart rate monitor is still beeping furiously and no-one has come out to tell him what's happening, and nothing about this seems remotely okay.

This isn’t real.

This isn’t real. It’s all he can think, feel - over and over again. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.

When Lando turns to look at Oscar, he’s gone pale.

Paler than usual.

“Oscar?” Lando’s voice sounds far away. “Osc? Hey, mate, I need you to look at me, okay? You need to breathe, yeah?” He feels Lando's hands on his face, gripping his chin and turning his head towards him. 

He opens his eyes slowly - they're wet. 

When did the room start getting blurry for him? 

God, this feels like his worst nightmare is coming true.

If Oscar thought he was scared before, when the commotion started?

Then his heart stills in his fucking chest when the commotion is no more.

No. 

No, no, no, no. 

The silence feels all-encompassing - like it's drowning his senses. His chest feels impossibly tight. The room disappears - the noise around him mutes into a dull roar, and he can't breathe right now. He can't even feel his own fingertips.

“Sir?” A young man tries, attempting to get Oscar’s attention.

His head snaps up at the word, eyes blinking back into sharpness and his vision sharpening in an instant. He looks around, the sound of the nurse's voice bringing him back to his senses. 

“Are you…” the young resident checks his clipboard. “… Mr. Piastri?”

The Australian nods quickly, swallowing hard before speaking. 

He knows his voice is shaky right now. It's obvious that he's freaked out right now - everyone who walks by him is looking at him like he's going to fall apart, and he would if they'd just tell him what happened to her. 

"Y-yeah," he manages, "that's me. That's me. Can you tell me what's going on?"

“Could you provide a valid form of identification? It’s all procedure - we can’t release medical information to anyone except to the emergency contact we have on file,” he explains.

Right. Right. 

Provide information. Valid form of ID. Procedure. 

It's all very logical. It's all very reasonable. 

Oscar nods, reaching for the wallet on the other side of his back pocket. His fingers are only shaking a little, but it takes him an absurdly long time to pull out the card - because he can't remember where he keeps his ID and when he finally does find it, his hands feel some degree of numbness.

Lando puts a warm hand on his. “Mate, breathe,” he whispers, trying to get him to calm down. He’s just watched Oscar fumble with his ID four different times as he fails to slip it out of his wallet.

Lando gives him a small smile that he hopes is at least a little reassuring.

He takes a slow deep breath in and out - his fingers still shaking. Come on, Piastri. He tells himself - but the words ring false in his mind right now when he doesn't feel like he's really fully himself at this very moment. 

Someone needs to tell him what's wrong with her.

“Mate, he needs your ID,” Lando grounds him gently.

"Right. Right. Yeah," he agrees, trying to compose himself. It's impossible. He can't think straight. 

He finally manages to pry his ID from his shaky fingers, handing it to the man in the powder blue scrubs without another word. The assistant, after taking a moment to confirm, returns his ID and checks his notes before eyeing Lando warily, unsure if he should provide Y/N’s medical update in front of the third party.

He’s not looking to get fired, after all.

When all he gets in turn is a nod of confirmation from her emergency contact, the assistant swallows, and then starts to speak. 

"Based on the X-rays and MRI tests, we’ve been able to conclude that Ms. L/N has suffered an extensive lung injury. That's most likely the cause of the bleeding. We've also taken her to intensive care for urgent treatment."

The man in the lab coat hesitates before ultimately continuing.

“Right now, the doctor suspects the cause to be an untreated fracture of her ribs,” he reads off his documents before looking up at Oscar. “We believe that the cracked rib or ribs placed pressure on the lung, causing a puncture and the subsequent internal bleeding.”

Cracked ribs.

He wants to throw up. He thinks he might even dry heave for a second, but he stops himself. "I don't- I don't understand," he tries to say, his voice thick.

Lando watches the blood drain from Oscar's face. He needs to get Oscar out of the situation - out before the dam breaks. So he takes a small step closer and rests a comforting hand on Oscar's shoulder again. 

"C'mon," he says gently. "Let's go take a walk, yeah?"

Lando’s caught off guard when Oscar plants himself in that spot, his body resisting the older man’s hold.

"No." he forces himself to say. He can't think straight right now, but he doesn't want to move from the exact spot he's standing in. 

He stares at Lando, his jaw clenched, "I'm not leaving until I see her."

“Oscar-,” Lando tries, gently yet firmly using his arm to usher Oscar in the direction of the door leading outside.

He knows what Lando's trying to do - he's trying to help him not freak out in public, he's trying to keep him from falling apart in front of the nurses. 

Goddammit, Lando. Leave me alone. 

He shakes his head, his hands subtly clenching into fists, "No! I'm not- I don't need to go outside, okay? I'm fine! Just let go of me!"

He glances at Lando, his face desperate, before he repeats his plea, trying to focus on the one thing he wants right now.

"I'm not leaving until we see her."

Lando’s hands come up to both sides of Oscar’s face. They don’t shake him, but they do hold him - Lando’s hands a warm and firm pressure against him. “Mate,” Lando says slowly, evenly. He makes it a point to look him directly in the eyes. “You’re not talking sense. I need to know what’s going on, yeah?”

Oscar meets Lando's eyes, taking a steadying breath. "I just… I need to know that she's okay," Oscar whispers, his voice rough and hoarse.

“Okay,” Lando nods, trying his best to be understanding. “Yeah, I’m with you there.”

Lando’s eyes search his face for any indication of what he’s thinking.

"I like her," Oscar says quietly, finally managing to meet Lando's eyes, "A lot more than I should, and I'm afraid she might…" 

Oh.

That wasn’t what Lando was expecting. But I can work with that, Lando thinks.

Lando nods, and he understands and for some reason, Oscar feels like he might start crying in sheer relief right there. That, of course, would be horribly embarrassing. His pride won't let him do it, so he holds back. But he thinks he can start breathing a little bit easier, knowing that Lando gets it.

He swallows hard, his eyes closing for a moment as he forces the words out, "With her, it's just… it's different, y’know? Like someone who speaks your language in foreign land, she just-"

He cuts himself off, choking on the words.

“Yeah?” Lando teases good naturedly. Sue him for having a little fun with it. “Sounds like she’s special.”

Oscar nods. "Yeah," he says softly. "She is."  He looks up to find him wearing a small smile. 

“Say, how’d you bag an assistant like that anyway? No way she came ‘cause of your stats,” Lando shrugs, something smug brewing in the curve of his lips. 

Lando sounds genuinely curious as he asks, and it throws Oscar off a bit.

"I…" He stops, trying to force his mind to work right now. "She started out as a junior assistant at the team," he continues, trying to focus, but the memory of her at the beginning - her shy smile, her quiet, gentle nature - it's all flooding his mind again.

"She was… shy. More than shy - she didn't really talk, but- she was so quiet. The others-... they’d crack jokes about it, snide remarks and the like.."

"But when she did talk, she was... she was just so smart. And know how her sense of humor is - hers are the jokes that are actually funny.”

“That so?”

"Yeah," he says, the memory still fresh in his mind. He'd watched, completely entranced. 

He'd never thought of taking the assistant out for a drink before, but he'd somehow found himself offering her one that weekend.

"She didn't agree to go," he remembers, his mouth curving into a bitter smile. "I think she thought it was like, a joke or something. Like I was doing it to make fun of her."

"She was pretty wary the first few times," he continues, his voice softer now. She'd always been shy and quiet as his assistant, but once he'd begun to earn her trust, slowly but surely. It was only then he'd seen a different side to her - the confident, sweet, gentle persona that only he was privy to. 

"But then she got a little more open, a little more herself- god. It was this beautiful thing."

The idiot’s in love, Lando thinks. But some self-preservation instinct tells him that if he’d like to keep his body and his car intact, then he should keep his mouth shut.

At least this once.

They cross the threshold into the room, the sight of her broken body in a hospital bed greeting Oscar immediately. The room smells overwhelmingly of hand sanitizer, paper products and latex gloves. Fluorescent lights are dimmed, a couple of them on across the tiled ceiling.

She lays there, still and silent - not unlike the way she’d been asleep in his bed just last night. But like sand slipping through his fingers, that image gives way to the one before him: the present.

There’s dried blood on her lips from when she’d been spitting up blood earlier. She’s connected to all sorts of machines - the IV, the heart rate monitor, a couple other things Oscar’s sure must also be important. She’d hate this, he finds himself thinking.

Instinctively, he steps closer.

He’s almost frightened to get too close to her, too scared to make the wrong move somehow as he stands by the edge of the bed. She’s always had an elegance - a grace - about her that’s always commanded his attention. But right now, it’s all gone.

“They had to put her under to stop her from trying to speak or move,” an attendant pipes up, from where she’s been noting down her vitals in the corner of the. “Because of the fracture in her ribs.”

Oscar's face remains the picture of neutral, dancing somewhere between stoic and lost. 

“She can still hear you,” he informs him quietly.

He reaches forward, resting his hand carefully on the top of her head, his fingers gently smoothing down her loose strands of hair. “I’m here now,” he murmurs quietly, his voice cracking with an emotion he can’t place. “You’re okay - you’re okay,” he repeats, more to himself than to her.

He watches her for a moment again - she looks more peaceful now, now that he’s standing here, talking to her. His fingers move through her hair, the way he sometimes did when she’d accidentally fall asleep on his shoulder. 

“Do you think she can feel too?” he asks aloud, directed towards no one in particular. The attendant has left the room a while ago, but minutes blend together into one long indiscernible stretch of time.

Lando seems to consider the question thoroughly, his brow furrowed. 

“I’d say so,” he answers, quietly. “She might not react to it, because of the drugs, but her brain would register the touch regardless. I don’t think there’s anything that would stop her from feeling it.”

He takes his free hand, carefully wrapping his fingers around her much smaller, bruised one.

Lando briefly wonders if his mind is playing tricks on him when the beeping of the heart monitor speeds up by a fraction of a second.

Oscar, on the other hand, remains focused elsewhere. It’s the oddest thing, he thinks - how he was dying to be near her and now that he is, he’s not sure what to say.

Say something, he thinks to himself. 

But he’s drawing a blank. Everything he thought he’d say to her in a position like this vanishes from his mind and he’s left standing here, still holding her hand, a complete and utter blank.

He looks down at her face again, studying her. He can make out a scratch on her forehead that seems to disappear into her hairline, and he carefully runs his thumb over it. He stays like that, running his thumb over her forehead, over her eyebrow... until his eyes finally move down to her mouth. 

He pauses, watching the slight part of her lips, her lower lip still caked with the dried blood.

He doesn’t quite know why, but all of a sudden the idea of her being dirty, of being covered in blood - of looking so unlike her - feels like venom in his veins. 

His gaze is fixated on the dried blood stuck to her lip, and on an impulse, he grabs the tissue that’s resting nearby and reaches forward to clean it away. His touch is so gentle as he brushes the tissue over her lower lip, the dried blood coming off on the tissue. 

He wants the image of her, bloody, dirty, to stop plaguing his mind - he wants her to look like herself again.

He continues wiping carefully, his touch feather-light, wiping away the dirt that’s stained her face. She deserves to be clean, to be safe, and so he keeps gently wiping at her lip long after the blood’s gone from her face.

“Osc,” Lando calls tentatively, trying to bring him back to the present from wherever his mind has gone. “It’s alright, it’s okay. She’s clean.”

He snaps out of his reverie at Lando’s voice, stopping the repetitive brushing of the tissue against her lip. 

“I miss her too, y’know,” Lando pipes up. He’s not sure whether that’s helpful, but he says it anyway. The younger man doesn’t turn around to look at Lando, eyes still fixed on her face, afraid to miss anything if he loses focus for just a second. 

“I know,” he murmurs, his voice almost lost as he continues tracing mindless patterns on her palm.

“I’m not saying it’s the same,” Lando corrects gently. “I know that this… this is different. I’m not saying I don’t care about her, but anyone with eyes can see. “With you it’s different. You and her… it’s different,” he finally shrugs.

He doesn’t say anything, but he nods - his only acknowledgement of Lando’s words, not wanting to make a sound in case it disturbs her - in case she’s listening.

“She came to me.”

That makes him lift his head up for a moment, surprised by the statement, and he looks over his shoulder at Lando. 

“She… what?” he questions, confused.

He nods, a fond smile on his lips as he reminisces.

“Yeah. Asked me a whole bunch of questions, all about you - what you like to eat, where you like to eat, what kind of gifts you like.”

He shakes his head in disbelief and mutters, more to himself than to Lando, “I have no idea where the hell this girl manages to get so much energy from.”

Lando’s reply is simple, like it’s obvious. “You.”

His brow furrow. Huh? 

“Me?” he all but echoes, confusion clear on his face.

“Can’t you see it?”

He can’t figure out what Lando’s hinting at, so he shakes his head.

“I- I’m lost, mate. What d’you mean?”

“It’s… she’s different with you, mate. With everyone else, she’s more guarded, more reserved, more sarcastic. Not that she isn’t charming, but…” he trails off, trying to figure out how to put it into words.

“I don’t think she notices it either. She comes alive whenever you’re around.” For a moment, Luisa flashes in his minds eye.

He turns back to look at her again, his eyes scanning over her face, and then shifts his gaze to their hands - to his fingers, still tracing mindless patterns against hers.

He’s never noticed it - he thought that she always had this energy, that this was just who she was. But different? Oscar isn’t too sure about that. He looks down at her again and wonders why he never noticed anything himself before.

“She’s friendly, always. But anytime it’s the three of us, it’s like I get to be the third wheel to the most awkward and embarrassing old married couple ever,” Lando jokes.

For a split second, the joke makes him smile - a real, proper smile that’s genuine and not forced for any sort of public appearance. And, in that second, he almost imagines what it would be like if they were a married couple - like it wouldn’t be so bad.

“You guys finish each other’s sentences,” he deadpans.

“She’s just good at reading between the lines,” Oscar explains. 

But he can’t deny that in spite of that, Lando’s not entirely wrong. Even in all their time alone, they’d fallen into a certain sort of rhythm - an easy flow, like they both just instinctively knew what the other one was thinking at almost all times.

“It makes work easier,” he adds on, trying to downplay it.

“Yeah. Work.”

He ignores Lando’s sarcastic tone - he’s too focused on something else right now.

“She should be awake by now, right?” he blurts out, looking back at Lando.

“I don’t know,” his teammate says quietly.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” he presses, his tone harsher than he’d intended.

He takes another glance at her face, hoping for some sign of change, some sign of life. 

Nothing.

“Just talk. Whatever you want to say to her, anything - you can just talk,” Lando suggests awkwardly. It’s often that Lando finds Oscar a bit difficult to read, but now it’s impossible to know what will help and what will set him off..

“Right, okay, yeah,” he mutters, nodding.

He turns back to her, silence filling the room while he thinks. There’s something he really wants to say, a phrase that’s been on the tip of his tongue for weeks now - but the timing is awful.

He decides to start with something simpler instead. His voice sounds shaky when he speaks up again.

“Hey,” he calls out softly. “…Hey.”

He waits for a response, any response - a word, a twitch, a blinking of the eyelashes - but nothing comes. He takes another deep breath before he continues.

“You’re really stubborn, you know,” he chides. “Stupidly stubborn.”

“Just… just wake up, okay?”

He takes a glance at Lando, who’s standing off to the side and observing silently, before looking back down at her face. But she’s still the same as before - no response, no movement, no sign that she’s even heard either of them.

“Oscar…” Lando starts cautiously.

He has a feeling he knows what Lando’s about to say. 

It’s not what he wants to hear.

“No,” he cuts him off before Lando even utters a word. “No, not yet. Just… give her a minute, okay?”

“Oscar…”

“No, stop,” he pleads, his voice cracking for a fraction of a second.

“Os-“

“I said stop,” he snaps back, turning to give him a pleading look. “She just… just give her a minute.” 

Lando takes it upon himself to try to limit the damage. He’s already got one friend laying motionless in a hospital bed - he is not going to let Oscar lose it now. 

“I just don’t think that that yelling at her will do-“

“I wasn’t yelling,” he bites back, though he knows that the volume of his voice was edging towards it. 

“Oscar,” Lando commands, trying to get Oscar to listen.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, lifting his head to look back at her. “Sorry, I just…”

Lando’s face molds into a sympathetic expression. He’s usually more comfortable in joyous environments, always the one to crack a joke or make things more relaxed. But here, he forces the discomfort down. Lando Norris is not one to let someone suffer alone.

The Australian knows what he wants to tell her - has desperately wanted to tell her, wants to say it so badly that it’s taking all of his willpower to not blurt the words out.

But the timing still feels wrong - the circumstances around them feel completely off and he can’t bring himself to do it. He looks back at Lando for guidance, Like there’s something the man can do that he can’t.

“She’s easy to talk to, isn’t she?” Lando remembers gas station runs, forbidden slushies and the dark of night as accessories to conversations that never seemed to end. Y/N is eloquent - there’s no doubt about it. Her words can command a room, can simplify the most 

“Yeah,” he replies automatically.

“Then just talk to her. She was your assistant, our friend - before she was ever anything else to you,” Lando says indignantly. “Talk to her. Tell her what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. This might be the onl-“

“Don’t.” Oscar is quick to cut him off. “Don’t say that.”

Lando’s lips press together into a straight line, falling silent.

He turns to look down at her again, his mind working overtime as he tries to figure out what to say. Oscar says the only thing he can, sparing no time for niceties or lighthearted anecdotes.

“You have to wake up, okay?” he mumbles, almost to himself. “I need to tell you that you were right about the error in our tyre deg numbers.”

He laughs softly, in spite of himself, as the memory of her being the sensible one for once comes to mind.

“And… and while we’re on the topic, I just need to say that you were also such a pain in the ass during flights, alright?” he continues. “You’re always so difficult with me when we fly together.”

“And don’t get me wrong, it’s almost endearing when you’re all bossy and sarcastic -” he’s talking faster now, his mind speeding through all the things he wants to say to her “- but it makes me want to strangle you sometimes. You drive me absolutely mental sometimes.”

“But at the same time…” he hesitates. Oscar’s never really been a man of many words. He thinks a lot more than he speaks.

He hesitates because it’s the truth - she drives him crazy, in some of the best and worst ways.

“At the same time, I don’t think I’d be able to do this without you, somehow. Despite all the insane, impossible things I put you through, you’re always here for me, always taking care of me, always by my side.”

Her first thought feels like it’s a distant memory, located in some faraway room that she can only think of if she tries with all her might not to let it melt away.

She can feel her fingertips.

He’s rambling, the words tumbling out faster with each sentence, and he doesn’t even notice that her fingers twitch against his hand.

“And I know you never ask for anything in return, I know you don’t expect anything in return, I know you just want me to be happy and healthy and I don’t even know how you just-“

The next sensation she registers is much less kind.

Before she can settle into the moment of unexpected peace, a sharp, stabbing pain pierces her side. She feels like molten lava dunked in ice cold water. She feels painfully cold and burning hot simultaneously.

It’s the way her body suddenly twitches involuntarily, so fast and hard that it jolts him out of his rambling, that he realizes something’s wrong.

“Hey,” he says, gripping her hand a little tighter to get her attention, “hey.”

Her hand twitches once again, but they barely have time to pay any attention to it because suddenly the monitor spikes, sending off alarms, the loud sound blaring through the room.

A cold chill runs down his spine, and his grip on her hand tightens without him even realizing. The next thing he knows, a swarm of doctors are rushing into the room. Instantly, her hand is being ripped from his and he’s looking at Lando with wide eyes.

He jumps up to his feet instinctively, wanting to follow where they’re taking her but being pulled back by Lando.

“Wha-“ he asks, his voice carrying an uneasy pitch, his heart threatening to break his rib cage with how hard it’s beating now. “Will someone tell us what’s going on?”

The words would have been loud, but the alarm bares over them. Everything’s happening faster than they can keep up with - one moment ago he was trying to think of a way to say how much he cares about her and the next she’s being pulled away and the machinery around her is going crazy.

There’s a man in a white coat suddenly ushering them both out of the room.

“Why?!” he demands as he attempts to wriggle out of Lando’s grip, trying to dig his feet into the floor to prevent himself from being thrown out. “What’s going on?!

“No,” he protests, resisting Lando's pulling, “No, I need to see her-”

“Sir, you can’t be in there-“

“Why not?!” he demands, his voice rising in volume. “Why can’t I be in there?!”

Lando has his arm around Oscar's shoulders now, trying to physically pull him away. “Mate, we don’t want to get in the way-“

“No! I’m not-“

He stays frozen there like a historic statue, but the man is physically stronger and he’s not able to break free. It only serves to make him feel more claustrophobic. 

Lando sighs. He never thought he’d need to wrestle Oscar. That kid’s got some serious fight in him.

He proceeds to put all his strength into holding Oscar back, trying to usher him into the waiting room. He can’t let Oscar thrown out of the hospital for not cooperating because forget the media circus - he’s not sure Oscar will be able to take not being able to see her.

Lando feels like something in his chest is cracking at the sight of seeing his teammate, his friend, practically his brother -  the calm and rational one of the duo - fall apart.

Instantly, when he feels Oscar shift, Lando’s muscles tense in anticipation of holding him back as he tries to break free.

Except he doesn’t.

Lando looks down to find Oscar shaking.

He’s crying.

Oscar’s head is suddenly hung low, and his shoulders are hunched forward.

He’s practically shaking, on the verge of breaking down completely. And it probably shouldn’t be such a surprise - he’s been running on adrenaline the past few days, and it finally feels like his body is finally crashing. He’s leaning heavily against Lando, and it’s the only reason he’s being held upright.

He can’t help but think there’s a chance that while he’s out here, he’s losing one of his best friends.

That could be the last time he’d get to see her.

The possibility of that just makes him cry harder, his shoulders shaking violently despite his best efforts. He’s slumped against Lando now, practically being held up by his best friend. He buries his face in the crook of Lando’s shoulder, not even trying to fight any more.

“It’s okay, mate. You’re okay, you’re alright, yeah?“

The words help somewhat - Lando’s familiar voice, and the firm embrace - but he can’t help the broken sobs. His brain is running through the last few days, the last few hours, over and over.

“I can’t  do this,” he rasps suddenly, his voice shaking. “I don’t know how to do it without her.”

“I know, I know…”

“I’ve never even…” he chokes out, shaking his head. “I’ve never even told her-“

“You’ll get to,” Lando winces, trying to console his friend. He inhaled deeply, internally praying to any deity that exists that he isn’t lying to him.

“You will. Breathe, mate.”

Lando stands there, arms locked around the younger man for what feels like forever. He’s not sure if it’s because he’s afraid he’ll hurt himself somehow or collapse to the floor. It’s a while later when his body finally loosens up a bit.

“I’m tired,” he mumbles over Lando’s shoulder, his voice still shaky. 

“Yeah,” Lando breathes shakily. At least he’s talking. “Yeah, o’course. Let’s get you sat, yeah?”

He nods his head weakly, allowing himself to be guided over to some of the nearby seats. He collapses onto the chair. His head is in his hands, his elbows on his knees, and takes several shaky breaths as he tries to regain some sense of control over his own body. 

Get it together.

Lando is awoken a few hours later by the sound of approaching footsteps.

He’s startled and disoriented when he’s suddenly woken up, and he has to spend a couple seconds piecing together where he is. He always did appreciate a good nap.

He tries to process the time - it’s dark outside. He’s in a waiting room chair, and Oscar’s in the seat beside him, sleeping with his head propped up on the palm of his hand.

His eyes instantly lock onto the person approaching them, and he blinks a couple times before recognizing the doctor from earlier. The woman seems nice enough with deep smile lines and warm auburn hair. She speaks quietly, presumably in an effort not to wake the sleeping man beside him.

“Mr. Piastri?”

Lando gives a quick nod, silently gesturing to Oscar as he does. He’s the other one.

He looks over, gently shaking at Oscar’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up, mate. It’s the doctor.”

Oscar’s eyes instantly shoot open, and he sits up quickly, any remaining drowsiness from sleep disappearing instantly. He’s instantly alert, his body tense, and a hopeful sort of fear in his eyes.

“Mr. Piastri?” she tries again.

“Yes,” he acknowledges, his voice coming out a little shaky. All the fatigue and tiredness from before seem to have left him at the doctor’s approach.

“Oscar Piastri?” she confirms.

“That’s me,” he nods again, watching her carefully. He’s trying to judge her expression, figure out what kind of news she’s come to give him. His heart is skipping beats, playing some sort of sick game, as he holds his breath.

“She keeps asking for you.”

The words immediately have the tension in his body dropping.

“She- What?” His tone is disbelieving, but there’s a part of him that feels lightheaded with relief.

The doctor smiles warmly at him, happy to be able to give some good news. “We’ve been successful in artificially resetting the bone in her ribs as well as patching the lung puncture.”

Pausing before she continues, she tells him, “In fact, you were very lucky to catch her when you did - if the nurses hadn’t seen her then, she likely would have choked-“

“Is she okay?” He swallows hard, trying to hide his voice shaking. “That means she’s well then, right?”

The doctor nods. “She’s still healing though, of course,” she reminds him, with a hint of an accent filtering through. Scottish, perhaps?

“I can see her?” he asks hopefully, already getting to his feet. “I can go in?”

The doctor nods in confirmation, before flipping a page up on her clipboard. “Just a few things before she has any visitors:

No outside food for the patient, and we wanna be as gentle as possible with her. Let's also try to avoid anything that would cause her stress - she’s just come out of surgery and we want her to recover nicely. Alright?”

He nods quickly, not even really caring what she’s saying to him at this point as long as it means that he can see her.

“Yes, of course. No stress. Gentle. I’ll do whatever you say.”

The doctor shoots Lando a wary look. Lando gives her a weak smile - He's harmless, he tries to tell her. “I need to see her,” Oscar explains, like it's the most obvious thing.

“He just wants to see her,” Lando reassures her. “Let him, yeah?”

Oscar shoots Lando a grateful look, before turning back to the doctor, his eyes practically begging the woman to let him in. She smiles kindly, turning around to guide the young man to Y/N’s room.

"That's funny,” she smiles, the kind that even has her teeth on display. “She said the same thing about you."

For the first time in what feels like so long, he starts to allow himself a spark of hope, and it makes his heart beat a little faster. His eyes roam over the doors on either side of them as the doctor leads him closer and closer to her room, his heart in his throat.

“When she was asking for me,” he asks, aiming for casual. “What did she say?”

The woman glances back at him and gives him a knowing look, like she knows something he doesn’t.

“That she wanted to see you,” she tells him as she stops before a door halfway down the hall. “She kept asking to see if you were here or around - likely to reassure herself.” 

She chuckles, a deep, hearty laugh. “But she was quite determined - nearly told off a nurse before we finally calmed her down.”

The thought of her asking about him, and asking to see him, soothes a part of him that he wasn’t even aware was aching.

He lets out a shaky exhale of relief, his entire body relaxing as the doctor stops in front of a room. His gaze locks onto the door, and then back at the doctor, his eyes wide with anticipation.

"Don't worry," the doctor reassures kindly. "Your girlfriend is quite brave. The hard part is over, - she'll be okay."

“She’s not-“ He clears his throat, forcing himself to speak again. “Can I go in?”

"Of course," she replies softly, opening the door for him to enter before turning away to leave them be.

He gives her a short, grateful smile - before finally turning back to the open door. But then his eyes land on her figure on the bed and his breath catches in his throat.

She seems so small, so silent and peaceful. She’s covered in cuts and bruises that look fresh, dark purple and red marks covering her skin. And there’s an IV on her arm and god, he’d tear this place to pieces if he thought it’d bring her any comfort.

His eyes scan over her body, taking in the injuries on her, the way the bruises and cuts are scattered along her skin. His stomach clenches, bile suddenly threatening to rise up and overtake him. It’s more than he’d been expecting - more than he could ever be prepared for, the thought of her in this much pain-

He forces himself to take several deep breaths, steadying himself before continuing to approach the bed - slowly, carefully, like a scared animal.

“Y/N?” he murmurs under his breath. She barely stirs.

He gently places a hand on her shoulder, gently - so gently, mindful of the cuts and bruises scattered across her skin as he tries to shake her shoulder.

"Wake up,” he whispers under his breath, his fingers trembling. “Wake up, c’mon.”

She's disturbed from the thick haze of sleep by the feeling of warm fingers touching her skin.

Huh?

He feels her wake up, her body stirring as he keeps his hand on her shoulder, trying to soothe her and reassure himself all at once.

“Hey,” he murmurs, as she starts to open her eyes. “Hey there-“

Eyes still bleary with sleep, her mind races to figure out what's going on. "O- Oscar...?"

She looks tired and disoriented, and it makes something in his stomach clenches. But the sound of his name from her lips is like a cool mist, soothing and familiar all at once.

“Yeah,” he confirms softly, his fingers gently tracing the same circle on her shoulder. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Hearing Oscar’s voice after so long makes something in her chest feel weird and warm and-

“Oscar.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he murmurs, his fingers running gently through the strands of hair at the nape of her neck as his other hand traces small circles at her shoulder. 

“I’m here,” he reassures, his tone as gentle as possible. Unsure of what to do or how to approach this, he resigns to standing there awkwardly. “I’m here. You, uh- you asked for me?”

Before she realizes, her face is wet with tears. Warm droplets trickle down her cheeks, dripping off her chin and onto her neck. She can barely see Oscar through her blurred vision.

“Whoa, whoa, shhhh,” he murmurs, trying to soothe her. “Hey, s’alright - shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here.”

He reaches forward, gently brushing the tears off her cheek. As the sniffles finally subside and Oscar takes a seat by her hospital bed, she turns her head toward him, taking in his presence. Every detail is one she’s trying to commit to memory - the swoop of his hair, the warmth of his eyes, the freckles that decorate his skin.

He tries to keep his expression encouraging, reassuring as she stares at him, but he’s sure that he looks as terrified and devastated as he feels. Instead of commenting on his own state of mind, he tries his luck. “Is it okay if I hold your hand?”

“Can we go?”

He tilts his head, not entirely registering what she’s said.

“What?”

She blinks once, slowly. “I want to go. Can you take me-“

“No,” he replies abruptly - before catching himself, mentally scolding himself for the sharp tone he’d used.

Instead, he tries to soften his tone as he gently adds, “No, Y/N. You need to stay here - you’re hurt, and you need medical care. They need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine now,” she tries. Whether it's the medications or the sleep or whatever the hell is supposed to be in that IV, she has to find her thoughts through a haze. “They fixed me, remember? I can-“

“No, sweetheart,” he replies gently - but his tone is still firm. “You’re not leaving. Not until you’re properly healthy.”

She turns away, cross.

“You might feel fine now, but you- you were really hurt. You need to recover, and these people know how to take care of you,” he tries to explain.

“Whatever.” The syllables slur ever so slightly, making it sound more like whud-ever.

“It’s not fair of you to be mad at me for this,” he argues.

Her words are icy cold. “You can go now.”

His jaw clenches again, as he feels irritation stirring along with it.

“No,” he retorts, his voice still firm. “I’m sticking right by your side.”

“What if I don’t want you here?”

He falters at her words, something in his heart clenching. 

“That’s not fair,” he retorts, the hurt clear from his voice. “You’re mad at me for no reason.”

She turns over, and continues her silent treatment.

His irritation boils over, and he grits his teeth for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to settle himself down.

“Hey,” he murmurs, fondness bleeding through his voice inadvertently. Placing a hand on his shoulder, gently trying to turn her towards him. “Don’t be mad at me. Just- just talk to me.”

“I don’t wanna,” she mumbles gruffly. “I want to go home.”

He swallows against the painful lump in his throat that forms when he hears the word “home” from her lips.

“I know you do,” he answers, his voice gentle. “And I know you want to be out of here, but they’re trying to take care of you, yeah? This is the best place for you right now.”

She keeps ignoring him, hoping he’ll eventually go away.

He can feel his irritation rising as her silent treatment continues - trying to drown out the voice in his head telling him that she’s just scared and confused, and that she doesn’t really mean it.

“Stop it,” he tries again, his patience starting to run thin as he grabs her shoulder, and turns her towards him this time. “Don’t be like this. You have to know I'm trying to help.”

He’s only greeted by more silence.

He’s silent as well for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the heart monitor, watching the steady rise and fall of the screen, the steady, slow beeping that tells him she’s okay, she’s okay.

He tries to keep his voice quiet and steady, to avoid letting his frustration show. “Please just say something. Don’t do this.”

The silence is deafening, and he hates every second of it.

With a small noise of frustration, he reaches out to grab her shoulder, his fingers wrapping gently around it as he tries to pull her towards him. When she’s forced to turn, he finds she’s hastily wiping away tears.

All of the irritation and frustration and even a little bit of anger immediately evaporates, leaving only the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her until she feels better. Without thinking, he gently uses his hand on her shoulder to pull her towards him, helping her up into a sitting position and then gently pulls her against his side, wrapping a secure arm around her.

He’s quiet for a moment, just holding her close to his side as he feels her body shaking against his. He moves the hand that’s wrapped around her, sliding his fingers gently into her hair, gently massaging her scalp in an attempt to help calm her.

“You can cry,” he murmurs gently against her head, placing a gentle kiss against her hair. “It’s okay, s’alright.”

“M’not,” she mumbles. “I don’t want to be here.”

“I know. I know you don’t..” he sympathizes. “But you need to be here for a while - you need to rest.”

She plays along. “Yeah,” she sniffles. “I s’pose so.”

His hand moves without consciously meaning to, wrapping a gentle hand around her other shoulder and pulling her entirely into his side, so that she’s practically falling against him, leaning heavily against his torso.

“Right,” he murmurs, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Just rest, okay? Rest - I’ve got you.”

He keeps her close against his side, still absently moving his fingers through her hair as he tries to keep her calm and settled. But what comes out of his mouth is, “You’re still mad at me, huh?”

“Actually…”

He lifts an eyebrow, his hand briefly stopping the soft massage, his heart briefly stopping when it does. “Actually?” he prompts gently.

It’s a wonder that Oscar doesn’t comment on how heart is thudding against her chest. Maybe its because he’s being polite. Yeah, he seems like the type to do that. Or maybe he doesn’t have good hearing. Stallard should probably know about that-

Her mental rambling is only cut off when somehow, words tumble out of her mouth, seemingly of her own accord. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to lay in the bed,” she mumbles, except the words come so rapidly that they’re barely understandable.

Immediately, she goes to backtrack. “Or not! It’s fine actually-“

For a moment, she watches as he just blinks at her. It’s a little disconcerting, really.

“Move,” he instructs her softly, gently maneuvering her so that he can climb in the bed beside her. Eh, he figures. They’ve been in worse situations than this.

Once he’s settled behind her, he pulls her back closer to his chest, tucking her tight against his side, her back against his chest, and wrapping an arm snugly around her waist. He closes his eyes, his chin resting on the top of her head. “Better?”

“Mhmm,” she hums contentedly.

He can feel himself smiling as he relaxes, his body melting against hers. He feels her relax against him as well, her shoulders losing some of their tension, and his free hand moves to rest gently on her stomach.

W

It’s over two hours later when Lando starts getting fidgety - the man is not exactly known for his ability to sit still. It’s been a while since he’s heard from his teammate, and he hasn’t heard any updates. Once Lando reaches his third round of pacing, his phone finally lights up with texts from Oscar:

She's okay

Doctor says she'll be alright

But we're both tired, so I'm going to stay the night.

Oscar glances down at where Y/N is resting against his chest, and he feels some of the tension leave his shoulders.

Lando successfully forces sends Oscar home to get some real rest before tomorrow’s free practice - only after Oscar makes him swear on his favorite golf club that Lando’d call him immediately if anything happened. He grabs an extra chair and pulls it over so that it sits right by her bedside, and he sits down on it, watching her.

The sight of her like this feels incorrect, like those AI images that distort reality. The hospital room, the tubes, the bandages and the bruising and the cuts - none of it looks right. His mind struggles to wrap itself around how her parents could have done this to her.

He’s lost in thought, his knuckles absently running up and down the back of her hand, when suddenly, her eyes flutter open.

“…O- Osc?”

She’s disoriented when she first opens her eyes, confused to find herself still in a hospital room when she’d fallen asleep beside Oscar. But then she looks up, and she sees Lando’s face. 

“Hey… hey,” he says softly, smiling gently down at her as he keeps his voice quiet. “It’s me.”

“Oscar? Where’s Oscar? He was just…“ She looks around, confused. How much morphine have they been giving her?

“He’s at home,” her companion corrects eagerly, his voice gentle. “He had to go home, get some proper sleep. But he let me chill here and hang out with you.”

“He left?”

“Yeah,” he says gently, still speaking softly. “Only for the night, though.”

He keeps rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, trying to soothe her before she gets more upset than she already is.

“Oh.”

Lando’s heart clenches with pity when he notices the look on her face, her expression fallen, and his voice drops even further down to a whisper.

“I know you’re disappointed,” he consoles quietly. “But believe me when I say he needs the rest. You’ll see him again soon.”

Lando takes a moment to examine her in the hospital bed. He doesn’t need to be a doctor to notice how small she looks in the hospital bed - she always is in comparison with him and Oscar, but this just highlights it even more.

“How are you feeling right now? Are you in any pain?” he asks, his voice still lowered.

“I’m… feeling much better, actually,” she says carefully. If she lays it on too thick, Lando won’t believe her. “The meds have been helping.”

“You sure?” he asks, his voice doubtful, looking at her in a somewhat skeptical manner. “You’re really not in any pain?”

“Just a bit of discomfort, but that’s it,” she lies through her teeth. In reality, any real jostling of her midsection sends a searing pain through her side.

Lando gives her an uncertain look, still not fully convinced by her reassurances. His eyes search her face for any kind of hint to her real pain level, but she’s gotten too good at hiding it over the years for him to tell now.

He sighs. “Okay, fine. But if that changes, you’ve got to tell someone, alright?”

“Of course,” she smiles.

He gives her a look that says he’s still not convinced, but decides not to press the issue.

He returns the smile, gently squeezing her hand.

“Good.”

A beat.

“Are you hungry, thirsty? Or… or something?”

“I’m alright,” she answers, but is immediately interrupted by the sound of her stomach grumbling.

He smirks, raising an eyebrow. “Mmhmm. ‘Alright’, huh?”

He takes the hint though, standing up straight and offering her a smile. “You stay put. I’ll go find a nurse and see if I can get you something to eat or drink.”

Like she can go anywhere. “Lando?”

He’s halfway out the door already, but he pauses in the doorway, turning back when her voice calls out to him. “Yeah?”

“Think the cafeteria has mac n’ cheese?”

“Macaroni and cheese?” He repeats, sounding amused, but he’s still somewhat confused by it. “Like, mac n’ cheese, specifically?”

“Just a craving,” she mutters sheepishly.

“You are… something else,” he chuckles, shaking his head. Bringing his hand to his forehead in a mock salute, he declares, “I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Thank you! You’re the best!” she whisper-yells after him, 

He turns to head into the hallway again, and he throws a smile at her over his shoulder before disappearing out the door.

He returns to the room about fifteen minutes later, a large mug of hot tea and a bowl of what smells like shepherd’s pie in his hands. “Made you a cuppa,” he informs her, before her gaze lands on the fresh goods.

“Is that-“

Lando holds the steaming box out to her with an amused smirk, clearly proud of himself for his accomplishment. “Shepherd’s pie,” he confirms confidently, giving her a smile. “Just as you ordered, madam.”

“You didn’t.”

He grins, holding it out to her - he actually went and did it.

“I did indeed.”

“Wasn’t it closed?” she asked as she brought the tray table closer to herself, eyeing the comfort food with delight.

The first bite is so good she has to close her eyes to savor it. The warm, hearty food feels like manna from heaven for her weakened body - she could cry tears of joy. There’s no way this food was made in a hospital cafeteria.

Lando sets the tea on the table, watching her as she tries the food, and can’t help the smile that spreads on his face when he sees how pleased she is with the food he chose.

“Closed, yes,” he says, sitting back down on the chair he’d previously been in. “But I’m very charming and persuasive.”

“So you ordered it from a shop.”

He grins.

“And who’s the smart one?” he asks, watching her eat. “Turns out the place next door does a pretty amazing Shepherd’s pie. Who knew?”

She’s too happy at the food to be bothered to tease him back. “This is amazing, dude. You’re the best.”

He can’t help but smile again, watching her enjoying the food he got like it’s the best thing she has had in years. He’s happy to have done this one thing to make her happy - he can’t help but tease, though. “Well, you know…”

He sits back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

“I am pretty great.”

“Alright, alright,” she says, waving him off. Now that she’s gotten a few bites in her, she gets a bit quieter. Eating and chewing is a surprisingly exhaustive task for someone who’s still on the mend.

She wipes the corner of her mouth, before finally turning to Lando.

“How is he?” she asks quietly.

He’s a bit surprised when she shifts the conversation, turning to ask about how Oscar is doing now, but he still answers willingly.

“He’s…” Lando hesitates a moment, searching for a word that would most accurately describe the situation .

“He’s… not great right now,” he says at last. Might as well be honest. “But… I think he’ll pull through. He’s a bit of a mess, but he’s… alright.”

“Yeah,” she sighs softly. She doesn’t look at Lando as she says it, feeling too responsible for his predicament. Instead, she tries her best to clean up after her meal - wrapping away the leftovers that feel like too much work to eat right now.

She gives her friend a tired smile before yawning. “Do you think it’s okay if I get some rest?”

He eyes her carefully, noticing the exhaustion on her face. “Yeah, f’course,” he assures her, standing up from the chair. “You’ve had a long few days. You should rest while you can.”

He takes the leftovers and sets them on the bedside table, before pulling the blankets up to her shoulders.

“Thanks, Lan,” she hums, before her eyes fall shut.

Lando doesn’t know when his own eyes fall shut, but they do.

Oscar does not, in fact, return.

Over the course of the next few days, Y/N gets very familiar with the hospital’s jello variety. She decides that she likes fruit punch the most, but that isn’t much of a surprise. What does surprise her, however, is when she wakes to a beautiful bouquet by her bedside. It’s an elegant collection, a haze of lavender florals - peonies and chrysanthemums - beautifully framed by stems of baby’s breath.

She eagerly reaches for the gift, excited to examine it up close. There’s a note tucked into the silk white ribbon that ties the wrapping together - a small cardstock thing that seems to have something written on it. Carefully plucking it out with her fingers, her eyes drift across the angular scrawl, penned in black ink.

“Heard you decided to sit Silverstone out. Don’t worry, it 

was boring anyway. You know it isn’t the same with you.

I’ll swing by sometime with bad puns and greasy pizza. 

That’ll fix you up real quick, trust me.

Get well soon, Loser.”

A smile blooms on her face as she reads the thoughtful words. She searches the note, trying to find the identity of the sender so she can at least send them a message of gratitude. Turning the card over, there's a misshapen looking smiley face next to a familiar name.

Love ya,

Logan

She’s lucky to have a friend like Logan - another American on the paddock, one who’s taken up the role of annoying older brother. They’d met through Oscar, initially - back in those early weeks of their rookie seasons. But then the conversation went to whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza, and then the rest is history.

The card is returned to her bedside table as shuffles in her bed, turning over to get comfortable so she can take a nap.

Letting her head sink into the starchy fabric of the hospital pillow, she tries not to think of the feeling that rose up in her throat when the name on the card wasn’t the one she was looking for.

Lando wakes up to his butt uncomfortably numb. Someone seriously needs to work on a better replacement for these inconvenient contraptions disguised as chairs. Isn’t the hospital meant to make you feel better?

Lando’s fairly certain he was much better conditioned when he walked in this morning - at this rate, they may just have to wheel him out.

“-and this one you’re going to take orally 3 times a day, alright? So that’s every 8 hours, to help reduce pain and any inflammation.”

Lando blearily blinks at the noise, but the words slowly get his brain up to speed, and he sits up a little straighter. He glances at her, who looks about as sleepy as he does - her eyelids look heavy, and her voice is still a little hoarse from sleep. 

“Okay,” she nods, taking the meds from the doctor, and putting them away in a bag by the bedside.

The doctor checks something off on her clipboard, before looking back up at the young woman seated on the side of the  bed.

“Right then. And do you have someone with you at home who’ll be able to keep an eye on you these next few weeks once you go home today?”

Suddenly, Lando really doesn’t like the doctor or the way this conversation is going. He doesn’t like the idea of her being all alone for the next few weeks. With all the medication she’s on, she’s not going to be able to drive.

She nods. “Yeah. I do. I live with my boyfriend,” she smiles reassuringly. The lie is so good that it even has Lando confused.

She has a boyfriend? That she lives with?

Lando’s immediate next thought is, Does Oscar know?

But he keeps quiet as the doctor continues to finish up her lecture about Y/N’s instructions for care. Lando sits there quietly, not knowing what to think.

Boyfriend? That’s news to him. If she had a boyfriend that she was living with… wouldn’t he have known that?

He watches her as she quietly nods and talks with the doctor, and he’s left to wonder how long this boyfriend has been around. When the doctor finally leaves and the room goes quiet again, Lando lets out a little yawn and then turns around in his chair to face her. There’s a confused, almost suspicious look on his face as he regards the girl.

“So… you have a boyfriend?” Lando doesn’t know if he feels protective or betrayed, but neither make the conversation less awkward. In all the time the three have spent together, the young assistant has barely, if ever, brought up her dating life. Probably because she’s in love with her Google calendar.

“Hmm?” she says, gathering her things. Finally, free at last.

Lando can’t really blame her for wanting to get out of a hospital bed and away from the crappy food. But he also hasn’t forgotten about her boyfriend comment from earlier. He looks at her skeptically. “You said you live wit’ your boyfriend, do you?”

“Oh,” she shrugs. “Just told the doctor what she needed to hear so I could get outta here.”

Lando blinks at her - and he’s left with the sudden, weird urge to laugh for the first time all night. The Briton stares at her for a few more seconds, trying to sort out the mixed bundle of feelings running through his mind. Then, teasingly bumping his shoulder with hers and grinning like the cat who got the cream, he finally manages to ask, “So… Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No,” she says with a wave of her hand, like the mere notion is ridiculous. “Single as a pringle.”

“Yeah? That’s not what you told the doctor, though…” He sing-songs. If she is actually seeing someone, then Lando can’t help but be happy for her. He’d be even happier though if it was Oscar - then he could finally make good those on that cash from some of the other drivers.

Lando hums. He’s been meaning to add a new Richard Mille to his collection.

“She wanted to  hear that I had someone at home in case something went awry. So that’s what I told her,” she explains simply. Once she’s done packing her things, she turns to Lando. “Ready to go? Oscar has a meeting soon and I’d like to be there for it.”

“So let me get this straight,” Lando says, no longer thinking of luxury watches. This time when he speaks, the tone of his voice is quite clear that he’s not happy with what he’s hearing. “You lied to a medical professional - told her you were living with a boyfriend - so you’d get discharged earlier… and there’s a meeting at work?”

“Yes,” she deadpans. “Now that you’re all caught up, can we go?”

When they arrive at the MTC, it’s business as usual. They each go their separate ways - Lando off to do whatever it is that Lando does, and Y/N to her office. She turns into the familiar space, dropping off her things, and taking inventory of the stack of papers that have accumulated on her desk in her absence.

Oscar’s sim session was okay. It wasn’t the greatest practice he’s had, but it wasn’t a complete disaster of a session either.

He tries not to think about the fact that he’s only semi-focused on the practice. His mind keeps wandering away from the simulator, and his eyes find their way to the office door that’s right across from the simulator room, where a familiar name plate adorns the door.

He shakes his head. His mind has been imagining her in this familiar setting - filling in the gaps where he’s used to her being. There’s been at least three occasions where he’s walking into her office, caught up in his theories or hypothetical to remember for a moment that she isn’t here.

A member of the janitorial staff saw him one of those times. 

It was embarrassing, to say the least. 

And yet his mind continues to picture her sitting at her desk. His brain supplies an image of her - a memory? - her, hard at work on her laptop or tablet, completely immersed, headphones on, chewing on her pen.

Except, when he blinks… the image of her is still there.

What the fuck?

“Good afternoon,” Y/N greets, trying to keep her voice as casual and even as she can. 

He nearly jumps up at the sound of her voice - but it’s also a familiar, welcome sound. Before his mind can catch up to his brain, he lets out a blunt, “You shouldn’t be here.”

She flinches ever so slightly at that.

“Was discharged this morning,” she smiles professionally, trying to keep it light. She decides to leave out the part where she orchestrated her own discharge from the hospital so that she could be at work, because she has a feeling that her boss will not react well to that.

He wants to be relieved. He does. But he also can’t stop the feeling of annoyance at the idea of her returning to work within hours of being discharged from the hospital.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” he starts, and the irritation he feels is definitely showing in his voice. “You were discharged this morning, and you came here?”

Her lips press together into a straight line. He’s the one who’s annoyed? 

“I am here now. Whether you choose to utilize my services or not is, of course, up to you.”

“That’s not an answer,” he counters, walking towards her. He’s definitely trying to suppress some feelings right now - irritation, relief at the sight of her, and something else that he can’t place.

“You’re supposed to be resting - not here,” he stresses, his stance and tone both authoritative.

“Oscar,” she hisses lowly. “I believe we have a guests.”

Y/N points her gaze in the direction of Zack and Andrea who seem to be making their rounds this morning, the CEO and team principal respectively. He turns to see both Andrea and Zack walking by and greeting people in the nearby rooms, handshakes and half hugs.

He can’t lose his cool now, even if what she’s doing right now is downright idiotic. He clenches his teeth, his jaw tight, but he manages to keep his irritation tampered down.

She can’t help but feel a little hurt by that. After everything, he could at least pretend to be happy to see her.

“Thank you, Mr. Piastri,” she says sarcastically, before plastering a fake smile onto her face. “Anything else?”

The too-tight smile she throws his way is unexpected. 

He tries to ignore the fact that it makes him feel like the world’s biggest dickhead.

“Er… no,” he says, sounding a little unsure. “That should be everything.”

“Very well,” she nods curtly, before walking off to god knows where.

She sets course for her office. When she reaches the sleek door, she pushes against it with, letting herself inside. 

Taking a seat on one of the armchairs placed by the coffee table, she leans her head back against the cushioned backing. Unshed tears of frustration stay locked in her chest, taking a deep sigh instead.

Why the fuck is she so worked up about this?

Everything is fine - she has no idea why she feels like shit. Oscar’s reaction to seeing her back from the hospital doesn’t mean anything. 

It shouldn’t mean anything. Right?

He watches her leave his office, and the whole time - the whole time he feels like he can feel the disappointment radiating from her.

It’s unwarranted - she has no reason to be pissed at him when she’s the one who’s being an idiot, he tries to convince himself. But he doesn’t quite manage.

He knows he’s in for a long evening.

The nagging feeling in his gut leads him to her door. There’s no reason to be nervous, right? Y/N has been here for the good, the bad, and ugly - sleeve deprived rants and mood swing and one drink too many and even giving him a ride from the sheriff’s office that one time he caused a fender bender.

Before he thinks it over any more, he pushes again the elegant oak door.

Her office is some combination of elegant and cozy. To one side, there is a sitting area - cream coloured armchairs he’s been a frequent visitor of. Against the wall, navy bookshelves frame both sides of an art piece, the shelves of books punctuated by hand crafted decorations.

To the far end of the room is where her desk is, a large monitor displaying the McLaren logo adorning the glass wall. There’s a few picture frames oh er desk that he’s seen dozens of time’s before - a little boy at his first soccer game, friends at a birthday party, someone posing at the top of some rock formation. Her vase has been filled with dainty lilac flowers.

Her tall, black office chair sticks out, and it’s there he finds her, face illuminated by the glow of the computer she’s diligently working on. The clacking of keys is the only sound in the room, interrupted only when she turns to note something down.

She’s a vision. A beautiful, perfect vision, with her hair pulled back into a claw clip, loose strands framing her face. And he’s frozen in place, unable to do anything other than just stare.

His heart is racing out of his chest, and after seconds of just staring, he tries to get his mouth to work.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks gruffly, surprised by how rough his voice comes out.

“Get lost, Lando,” she grumbles without looking. She’s not in the mood for Lando’s attempts to cheer her up - she just wants to be a miserable workaholic in peace.

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips at that. It’s a quiet one, but hearing her think that he’s Lando amuses him.

“What, no time for me?” he asks, the tone of his voice teasing even though he’s feeling anything but on the inside.

Her eyes fly open in recognition, before she returns her attention to her desktop. Her eyes focus themselves on the facts and figures, making it a point not to  pay him any attention.

“I’m not in the mood,” she mumbles, still upset from earlier. What is he even doing here?

The silent treatment, really? After he spent the whole afternoon worrying about her? She doesn’t get to just ignore him after he spent the whole day unable to function. 

That thought makes him start to feel irritable. “I don’t care what ‘mood’ you’re in,” he snaps, not caring how harsh he sounds.

There’s something about the way she’s avoiding his gaze, ignoring him - she’s doing it on purpose. She’s making a point of deliberately looking away, looking elsewhere. It makes him frustrated, it makes him feel raw, like he’s suddenly vulnerable, out in the open.

“Look at me,” he says in an authoritative tone, his irritation seeping into his words.

“Don’t want to.”

His jaw clenches at her response. She’s being petulant, and maybe he does deserve it, but god does it piss him off.

He walks closer to her, stopping right before her and blocking her from moving any further away.

“I said look at me,” he repeats, his voice coming through gritted teeth.

With a roll of her eyes, she brings her gaze to his face.

He tries to resist the urge to immediately look her over - to make a visual catalog of each cut, bruise and injury on her skin, to catalog which specific shade of blue and red every mark is, to count how many stitches are on her forehead - to catalog the full extent of the damage that’s been done.

Instead, he forces himself to look into her eyes, his irritation turning into intense, barely concealed anger.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming back today,” he accuses, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Well, here I am.”

There’s more clicking, a shift in the color of the light reflecting her face as she switches between tabs. A beat of silence passes over the room.

“You done?” she says with a raised eyebrow.

Nope, he’s not done. He hasn’t even started.

“No, actually,” he shoots back, his anger bubbling up at her feistiness. “We’re not ‘done’ until we actually have a real conversation.”

“What are you on about?”

“You heard me,” he says, his voice more firm in response to her disbelief. “If you think we’re just pushing this to the side, and act like everything fair and dandy, then you’re very mistaken.”

Finally sparing him a glance, she tells him nonchalantly, “I don’t see much for us to talk about.” 

His face scrunches, eyebrows pinching together as he holds back a scoff. “I’m the one over here who’s trying to fix whatever the hell this mess is,” he points out, gesturing with his finger between the two.. “I’m the one who’s actually worried about you, after what you went through -”

He breaks off abruptly, not wanting to go there.

She whips her head to the side when she hears that.

“Fuck off,” she spits, almost-tears in her eyes. “You don’t get to act like you care about me whenever you feel like it and then decide you don’t whenever you want.”

“Goddamnit - that’s not what I do!”

Anger is rising in his chest. Does she really think that he only cares when he feels like it? Does she have any idea how much time he spends worrying about her, how many times he has to hold himself back because he’s worried of crossing a line?

“You just don’t want to accept that I do care about you,” he accuses, his voice rising, his temper flaring.

Her reply is immediate, a pre-loaded bullet.

“No, ‘Hi, how are you?’ or ‘Glad to have you back.’ No, instead,” she scoffs, “the first words out of your mouth after you see me is, ‘You’re not supposed to be here?’”

That stops him in his tracks.

His eyes widen in realization as he’s suddenly hit with the realization of just how cold and shitty his first words to her had been.

No greeting, no ‘good to have your back’, no ‘glad you’re okay’ - just accusations. His heart clenches in his chest as he realizes it - how careless he must have sounded.

“You know,” she laughs humorlessly, like it’s an inside joke that only she is in on. “I can’t believe I was foolish enough to think that night meant something to you.”

Images of that night, what feels like years ago, flash in her mind - his tender touches, his caring whispers, those soft kisses they shared. The way he’d confessed how much he cared about her as he patched her up,  how he’d come to her aid when she needed it most.

“But apparently not. Because apparently it’s really easy to ignore me for a whole week, to give me the cold shoulder all day, right? To make sure you have anyone else to replace the work I do for you every day?”

The words feel like a slap to the face.

He feels the anger in his gut subside, being replaced by immediate regret.

“That’s not what it was-” he stumbles over his words, his voice coming out more pleading than he’d like to admit. 

“That’s not what any of it was,” he shakes his head emphatically, trying to make her understand, make her see that he didn’t mean to come off the way he had. “I was just- I was just worried about you, I-”

“Tell me you didn’t have Kelsey schedule your meetings then. Or have Hendrix manage your correspondence. Or, maybe you didn’t specifically ask for Annika to run your errands just so that you wouldn’t have to talk to me.”

His heart is in his stomach. When she says it like that - lists all his actions out in such a clinical way - it sounds so damn manipulative that he doesn’t have an immediate response.

“It wasn’t like that-” he tries to protest, trying to say something, anything to make her understand that no, that wasn’t him trying to give her the cold shoulder, that wasn’t him trying to get away from her.

She puts a hand up to halt his train of thought.

“Look, it’s one thing to disagree with a personal decision of mine, but to punish me for it professionally?” Her tone is as incredulous as it is hurt.

“I work very hard, and I am damn good at my job,” she states, certain. “There is a reason it takes so many people to fill in for what I do everyday.”

She takes a breath, trying to keep her voice even.

“So you do not get to insult me and my work this way.”

He takes a few steps towards her, his hands itching desperately to reach out and grab her. He wants to grab her shoulders, make her look at him - to just let him say something, but she’s right.

“I know,” he says quietly, his voice laced with shame, “I know you do good work. I was just…”

“I was just mad,” he confesses with a reluctant sigh. “I was mad that everything… everything happened, and I didn’t know what to do. And I know that’s a terrible excuse, but I didn’t- I was just feeling all these- feelings, and I reacted like an - an ass, and I…”

He runs his hand along his face, exhaling in frustration.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for how I acted.”

She continues to glare at him, silent.

He hates the way she’s looking at him - like the sight of him hurts her.

“Please,” he whispers, hating the pleading tone that crept into his voice. “Please, don’t look at me like that. Just- just let me make up for it, yeah? Let me make this right. Can you… can you at least…?”

He slowly starts moving closer to her - one, then two steps.

She moves back.

“‘At least’ what? What do you want from me now?”

He takes another step, the distance between them now a mere foot. When he’s standing just in front of her, he stops.

His heart is lodged in his throat. 

“Can… can I touch you?”

“Why? You want me to be your charity case again? Something you can hold and try to fix to make yourself feel better?”

Okay, maybe that was a bit too far. But she was scared because she was this close to forgiving him, to letting all the anger dissipate like it never existed and letting him hold her like he did so many nights ago.

She shouldn’t forgive him so easily. She shouldn’t want to forgive him so quickly.

He shouldn’t influence her as easily as he does.

He winces, as if she’d physically hit him with those words. He hates the way she’s reacting - hates how she’s talking like she doesn’t know him.

“No,” he says shakily, the word coming out as a breath. “No, I… you’re not a charity case. I just-”

He’s desperate now, desperate to fix this.

“I want to hold you,” he says quietly, his voice breaking. “I just want to hold you.”

“Why?” she tries to sound demanding, angry, cross with him. But her voice cracks instead.

The sound of her voice cracking makes his chest ache.

“Because I care about you,” he says, the words coming out rushed. “Because I’m terrified that you’ll disappear. And because after everything that’s happened these last couple days, I… I just want to hold you in my arms and make sure that you’re real. That you’re here. I just want you.”

“Please,” he whispers. “Please just let me hold you.”

His heart is beating so damn fast that it’s making his head fuzzy, but he needs her to say yes. 

She eyes him warily. This wouldn’t be the first time he acted like he cared about her like this, only to distance himself after.

“I’m not leaving,” he says slowly, his voice serious. “I’m not going to push you away. I swear. I swear to you, I will not push you away again this time, okay?”

He reaches out slowly, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible, and puts his hand lightly to her wrist - just barely keeping his touch there, like he’s afraid she’ll recoil away. 

“Please,” he whispers, his eyes never leaving hers. “Please just… just give me a chance. Let me just have this one thing. Please.”

Still eyeing him, she gives him the barest nod. 

She’s never been that good at saying no to him anyway.

Slowly, he moves closer to her, taking one small step at a time. His hands hover at her shoulders for a moment,  pulling her to stand up, before he reaches out again and gently pushes her shirt sleeves up slightly, exposing her bare forearms.

She watches him curiously, wondering what he’s doing.

He carefully wraps his fingers loosely around both of her wrists, being mindful of a bruise, and gently guides them up and around his shoulders. 

His hands settle on her hips, and then he hesitates. He knows she’s still upset. He knows that he’s still got to apologize and make it up to her properly, but right now, he desperately just wants her close. So he takes a deep breath and gently pulls her body closer, until he can feel her flush against him.

He rests his chin on the top of her head, and god, she feels so good in his arms. She feels so right, and he doesn’t even care that she’s hurt and angry with him right now - she’s here. She’s here, and she’s not pushing him away.

She inhales and that scent that’s so Oscar fills her senses.

She wonders why Oscar smells like coming home.

His hands rub up and down her body slowly - still as gentle as he can manage, not wanting to overstep. He feels her flinch when he accidentally brushes his fingers over a patch of bruise just above her hip bone, and he quickly moves his hand to other spots.

He just wants to hold her. He wants to be close to her.

“Do friends hug like this?” she whispers, not daring to look at him.

The question catches him off guard, and he freezes for a moment.

“No,” he says slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. He continues his slow rhythm of rubbing up and down along her body, tracing an invisible pattern of loops and circles. Silence falls over the room like a blanket of fog, the night sky a backdrop to the intimacy of two people.

“No, I don’t think friends do,” he says quietly.

“You kissed me. The other night, at your place - you kissed me,” she murmurs into his embrace.

He doesn’t move for a moment, absorbing the words.

“I did,” he says simply.

His hands continue to gently rub up and down against her form, his touch careful and calculated. It’d be so easy, so easy just to slip his hands beneath the fabric of her clothes, to just touch her - skin to skin. But not yet.

“And when I did, you kissed me back,” he says quietly.

Her breathing hitches - she wasn’t sure he’d remember. 

“I did,” she admits quietly.

A warm feeling begins to take root in his chest and he tightens his hold around her. Pulling his head back, his hooked finger tilting up her chin, he tries to read her eyes.

“And if I were to kiss you again right now, do you think you’d kiss me back?” he asks slowly, his voice still a soft whisper.

She looks up at him, eyes meeting his.

“Only one way to find out,” she breathes.

He holds her gaze for a moment longer, searching her face for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty. 

And then he’s carefully lifting one of his hands to her face, his fingers barely coming to rest against her cheek. He rubs the pad of his thumb across her cheek for a moment, just wanting to savor the brief feeling, before gently tilting her head up. 

And then he’s slowly lowering his head down, until he can just barely feel her breath against his lips.

Foreheads pressed together, all she can see, feel, breathe is him.

“Don’t play with my heart like this,” she murmurs against his lips.

He swallows hard.

“I’m not,” he breathes quietly, his eyes closed. He can’t bring himself to open them now - he’s scared of what he’ll see in her expression.

He hesitates. He wants to kiss her, wants to kiss her so bad, but he’s not sure she’ll let him. He’s not sure she trusts him again yet.

He moves his head slightly, his nose just brushing against hers. 

“I won’t,” he says quietly, this time with more conviction - more force. “I swear I will never hurt you again. I’ll prove it, I’ll show you-“

His words are interrupted by a knock at her door. 

They have the worst timing.

Part 4

[oval3000]

Chapter 8

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 9

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

Maybe it was your mind going into shambles or just your thoughts telling you that you should be grateful. You haven't left the house in two months. He wouldn't let you. At first, you didn't question or bothered him with idea of you going outside, now it's just...getting to you.

The thought of it came up a couple weeks ago when you felt like you couldn't breath, you wanted to smell the air outside. You wanted to know where you were. This led to König lashing out at you.

"Enough! You are not leaving this house! You're not going outside! And you are not going to change my mind of it!"

He would scare you and he could tell, so when he sees you flinch at his venomous words, he feels guilty.

"I'm sorry, schatz. I just don't want to loose you."

He would come home with your needs, pads, new clothing, the usual feminine products. He would hug you tight at night that you couldn't get out of bed to go pee. When you want to take a shower, he would shower with you.

As for the sexual part of this, it has been dormant. Ever since the night you both shared, he hasn't touched you in an intimacy way. Not that he doesn't want to, he does, he just wanted to wait until you were ready for the next couple rounds.

He's still active with physical touch by pulling you into his lap and kissing you in whatever chance he gets. He would kiss you deeply for minutes. When you want to stop, he would just holds you tighter, which later causes him to jerk off in the bathroom.

When Horangi started to question your state to König, he would get a cold reply by him by telling him to mind his business and to worry about other things. You never met Horangi, you never really see König and him interact since they meet outside the house. The idea of Horangi doesn't exist to you.

So when you saw a stranger in the kitchen, you were shocked. Someone who isn't König that is standing infront of you. König left to run some errands, so it was just you and him.

"It's okay, I'm König's friend. My name is Horangi." You calmed at bit, slowly walking to the kitchen counter. "I just wanted to see you. He tells me alot about you and I know how König can be, so I just wanted to check up on you."

"O-kay. Can you tell me where I am?" You saw his posture, leaning agiants the kitchen counter, arms crossed.

'You're in König's safe house." He said, walking closer to you. "It's best for you not to know the location."

You saw the men's features and structure. Fit and strong. "How do you know König?"

"We served in the same military, Kor-tac. I guess you can say that we're buddies. König never told me how beautiful you are. He told me that you are his nurse he wants to care for." He leaned in closer to you. "It makes sense why König is crazy over you."

He carresed your cheek with his finger, but you quickly moved away. "It was a shame I was placed into a different facility then König, or else I would've gone crazy too."

Your eyes widen open, "what?"

"Yoy think he's the only one? We all got questioned by that stupid doctor and best our luck, me and him got put into that prison hell. However, they placed König into a different one than mine cause they were too afraid we were going to plan something together." He looked up and down on you, giving you a smirk. "I was only there for a couple of months," he sighed, "I guess I was being good."

He placed his hands on the counter, behind you, trapping you in between his both arms. "What are you doing?" You said, trying to push him away.

"König is mad about you that I don't think you understand the lengths this man would do for you." His face leaned down to yours, he felt your hands on his chest. "He would tear everything apart if he looses you. It would be a shame if he walked in while," he placed his hand on your cheek, "I fuck you."

You began to panic making him chuckle. "N-no..we shouldn't do this. Please get away from me."

"Have you fucked him yet? Is he good to you?" He whispered to you.

"I-.." he pressed himself more into you.

He snickered at your response. He backed a bit away from you. "König! Are you enjoying the show?" You were so confused until you saw König walking in, like a predator creeping up on its prey. "I was just talking to your special girl. I was already heading out. It was nice meeting you, (Y/n)."

He left the house just leaving you alone with you and König. He marched over you which made you want to run away. He reached to you, pulling your hair, closer to him. He cupped your face, gripping it tight. You've never seen him this angry before. It was terrifying you. "König! Please don't...." tears were falling down your face, "please don't hurt me!" His hands went to your neck, giving it a slight squeeze.

"What were you doing with him!?" He yelled at you, dragging you to the bedroom.

"I wasn't doing anything! I swear! Please! Please don't hurt me! You said that you would never hurt me!" You cried out, using the blankets and pillows as a shield.

"ENOUGH! Don't make it harder for me then it is." He took off his shirt. "Is it because I'm not giving you enough attention!?" He took off his pants. "You wanted to leave this house right? Is it because you want to find someone else!?" He went to you, taking your arms and pulling you off the bed. "Is it because I'm not good enough?" He bended you over his desk with your ass rubbing his crotch. "Is it because your too lonely here, is that it?" He took off his briefs, giving a few pumps on his cock, feeling the precum coating his length. "I think your ready, schatz." He pulled down your shorts and underwear. "Damit ich ein Baby in dich stecke (for me to put a baby in you)"

He didn't give you time or strength to answer, he immediately shoved his cock inside your pussy. He moved his hips back and forth, making the desk shake with each thrust. "Ah! Mein hase!..aAaHh!" He moaned out, grabbing your ass, moving it along side his hips back and forth. With his one hand, he placed his thump inside your anus while his fingers clutching on your ass cheeks. His other hand giving a few slaps on your ass, making it bounce more. You tightened your palms together, feeling the heat rise up your cheeks. You bit your lip hard for you not to make any noises.

The pleasure was too much. The motion was too much. "HaaAh!..ah!ah!...oooh..mhm!..K-König."

"Tell me what you want, schatz," he moaned out pulling his head back, shutting his eyes. His hips thrusting in and out, making all your juices coming out, making a tiny pool on the floor.

"I-I...want you....ah! I Want y-you...König!" You palmed the desk, trying to prevent you from most likely breaking you into it.

"Yo-...you want me...hase....Ja!" He slapped your right ass cheek loud and hard. His grip on your ass made you go on your tippy toes.

"Yes!...Yes!...I-ah!..I want you..ooh..fuck!.." you felt so numb dumb you can't think clearly or see clearly. "I love you!"

He pulled your hair up, arching your back, "you love me, liebling? I love you too." He placed his hands on your waist fucking you hard. "I'm gonna cum, bunny."

The words themselves made you feel like squirting all over him. Your juices formed a puddle on your floor. He gaved one big, hard, thrust, feeling your womb with his cum.

That day, König fucked you for hours. Making you sucking him off. Fucking you hard and deep into the bed, breaking a few floor boards.

You eventually passed out with the amount of pleasure, it made König freak out thinking he killed you.

He made sure to give you the best aftercare you can experience. The next few days, he brought food for you until you gained the strengths to walk again.

König apologized to you how he treated you. You told him that it was nothing for him to worry about...after all you deserved it...right?

When you felt better, he would fuck you again. And again. And again.

As for Horangi, he apologized to you. He just wanted to see if you are actually the one for König you are the one for him. He wished the best for the both you for it to fall apart.

You're driving him more crazy than he his. He loves you and he has you. In his arms, hugging you tight.

You eventually reached his the goal.

"Schatz? Is everything okay?" He knocked on the bathroom door, jjggling the door knob. "What does it say?"

He waited for your answer. For you to come out of the bathroom. He paced back and forth, taping his foot on the floor. He asked every five minutes if you are okay. Knocking everytime if you needed help with anything.

Eventually you came out. You opened the door and looked up to König. To the man that loves you. To the man that took you away from your actual home to your new home. The father of your future kids.

"I'm pregnant."

[rekino2114]

Someone who cared

Eva tsunaka x gn reader

[Spoilers for p:e.g. chapter 1]

A/n:and here is the Eva fic. I hope you enjoyed cause I really loved writing it. It's the happy ending my girl deserves

You were always Eva's anchor.

Your love for her was what grounded her to reality, what allowed her to keep going on in sleepless nights spent studying, through math competition she didn't even care about and in moments where she only wanted to cry in the shower because of situations she wasn't strong enough to handle, she reminded herself that there was someone who loved her because of who she was and not what everyone else thought she was. That there was a person she could always rely on and trust no matter what happened. You made her smile, a genuine pure smile, ever since your first meeting.

When at 5 years old she looked up from her book to see a person holding an ice cream cone to her

"What?"

"It's ice cream! Oh, it's cookies and cream, if you don't like it I can go change it"

".....do we know each other?"

"No but you just looked like you needed ice cream, standing alone reading isn't that fun"

"............"

"Quick! It's gonna melt!"

"O-oh"

She closed the book and grabbed the cone, giving it a lick before looking at you sitting near her on the bench

"Is it good?"

She just nodded and you smiled at her, a smile that made her feel all weird inside

"Oh! I forgot, mom only gave me 5 dollars to buy ice cream"

You pulled out some coins from your pocket and started counting

"One, two,three fo-"

"It's enough"

"Huh?"

"The ice cream cost 2 dollars,you brought two so it's 4"

"Oh you're fast at numbers"

"It's just math, 2 x 2 is 4 simple multiplication"

".....m-multi-what?"

Your confusion made a small smile appear on her face

"Just go to pay before it melts"

"Yeah ok, by the way, what's your name?"

"Eva, Eva tsunaka"

"Oh that's such a cool name"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm y/n l/n, nice to meet you evie"

"E-evie?"

"It's a nickname, a name friends call you, do you like it?"

".....so we're friends?"

"Yep,....... oh I guess I should ask you, do you wanna be friends?"

In that moment her soul itself answered and she made the second best decision she ever made in her life

"Yeah, I'd like that"

From that moment on you entered her life and changed it for the better.

It turned out you were going to attend the same elementary school, and since you were already friends, you basically always hung out. Well, it was more like you continued to be near her until she let you read with her at recess, but she wouldn't have it any other way, because whenever you were sick she could feel the difference between reading with someone and just standing under a tree while everyone else played in the grass.

".......how do you say that?"

"What?"

"This word"

You pointed at her book

"Oh its-"

"AHHHHHH!"

Your scream alerted her and she turned to towards you to see you crouching and hugging your legs while pointing at a caterpillar

"I-it's a monster"

"It's just an insect"

"B-but aren't they poisony?"

"It's poisonous and no"

Just as she was about to keep reading, she felt something grip her. Her whole face turned red as you hugged her for protection while muttering something about the monster getting closer. The weird feeling came back. It was somewhere above her tummy, and when she talked about it with her parents as they were putting her to bed, they just laughed between each other and muttered something about her first crush. Of course, at the ripe age of 7, she couldn't understand what that was.

It was some time during middle school that she began understanding her true feelings.

"You take everything that doesn't have an x in it and move it to the right. You also need to change their signs, got it?"

"..........w-what?"

"The positive become negative and the opposite"

You tried to write something before fully giving up and putting your hands over your head

"I don't get it, when did letters make their way in math?"

Your study buddy sighed and took a pen, trying to guide you step by step through the homework

"Can we take a break?"

"Not until you figure it out"

"Please, pretty please with a cherry covered in chocolate on top?"

"No"

"Come on please, we can play super slam sisters"

"Hm?"

You grab a controller and look at her with that smile, that smile that made the feeling come back to her, the feeling that she always had when she was near you, just looking at your smile made it impossible to say no

"Ugh, I guess a couple of rounds can't hurt"

"Yay you're the best evie"

You hugged her, and she felt her face flush red again

"Are you OK? You're so red"

"I-i'm fine let's just play"

"I'm gonna destroy you this time"

"We'll see about that"

You paused the game after the fifth time you lost

"So who was gonna destroy me?"

".......ok ok i admit it...you're really good at this"

Your compliment made her heart beat again, but she put the controller down and turned towards you

"Let's continue studying"

You sighed but nodded and sat in front of the desk again

"OK now do you get it?"

"....i-i think so"

You started writing the solution and Eva looked at it before her face turned into one of surprise

"That's correct good job"

"Yay! Now can we take another break, as a reward?"

"We just had one"

".....alright"

You picked up the pen again but this time started looking at the wall deep in thought

"......thank you"

"For what?"

"A lot of things to be honest, but what I'm talking about now is....helping me"

"With math?"

"Yeah among other things"

"It's nothi-"

"No it is something"

You turned to look at her, your eyes locking with her blue ones

"My parents............they can't afford a tutor, so I decided to ask you, I'm sorry if it sounds like I'm taking advantage of you, but I just really wanna be with you"

"What do you mean?"

"The high school I wanna go to, it's the same as yours"

"Huh?"

"But if I don't have good grades they won't let me in, and......math is a subject I'm not good at"

You looked silently at her before suddenly holding her hands

"I want to stay with you, you're amazing evie, you're so smart and pretty and awesome, I want you to be in my life. So I promise I'll try my best to get good grades, to be with you"

You still have no idea why you said that, and more importantly you still have no idea how your 14 year old mind still didn't understand that maybe you felt something more than friendship for the back and white haired girl. But if you could go back, you'd say the exact same thing, not only because that's exactly how you felt but also because of what happened during high school.

Eva couldn't handle it anymore, the feeling in her chest she learned to call love was growing more and more with every day you spent together, with every time she had to remind you to pay attention in class and with every afternoon spent studying and playing slam sisters. She felt like her heart could explode if she didn't do something soon.She needed to do something about it.

But what could she do? Confessing would be very risky, if you didn't feel the same, it would have genuinely destroyed her, not only because you wouldn't be dating but mostly because she knew that no matter how much you tried to fix things and play it off as if nothing happened, your friendship would have never been the same, it would have all felt so awkward and uncomfortable and it would have probably been better to just end your friendship before it became even worse.

She could not handle that. You were her best friend. Her............only friend.

But she also knew better than anyone that if she didn't confess, someone else probably would and seeing you hanging out and kissing someone else while knowing that if she had just been braver that could have been her, would have destroyed her even more.

So she decided to act on valentine's day of your second year of high school.

"So what's with the chocolates?"

Your sudden question makes Eva spit her water

"W-what are you talking about?"

You pulled out the chocolate box with the letter inside

"Only you would do something like this"

You showed her the note which simply said "128√e980"

You unfolded the letter showing that the equation spelled "I love you"

"The chocolate are also my favorite flavors, but the note is the obvious part"

".........I know it's stupid but-"

"It's not stupid, it's pretty cool actually, even if it did take me a while to understand eheh"

Eva looked away embarrassed but quickly grew even more flustered when you held her hands

"But I want you to tell me that you love me"

"I-i just did-"

"No, I want Eva tsunaka to tell me that she loves me, not the mathlete that everyone thinks you are, tell me with your own words, the ones from the bottom of your heart, not numbers. then I can accept"

Eva started sweating, for what reason she doesn't know, maybe her cheeks got so hot that they actually started burning, but she calmed herself and took a deep breath before speaking

"Y-you make my heart beat, I feel all weird when I'm with you, I just want to smile and hug you for no reason, ever since we were kids, I now know what that is, I love you, I can 100% say I love you"

You smiled brightly, and she couldn't help but smile too. You always had this effect on her. She just couldn't help but feel happy with you.

"I love you too, evie, you're the best girl I ever met, and I wanna be with you forever"

You suddenly kissed her, it was a very soft and short kiss, but it still succeeded in making her blush even more than anything that happened before, but still she wanted to feel like this more so she kissed back. And with that she officially became your girlfriend.

She can confidently say that confessing to you was the best decision she ever made. Simply because the years where you two were together were the best of her life.

It was the small things you did for her, those things that made her feel seen and special, something like buying her something for breakfast when she didn't have to eat because she was busy studying, or just listening to her rant about a new ARG she helped solve on the internet.

Even the more embarrassing things like showing up to one of her math competition with a whole banner with a bad but admittedly really cute drawing of her face and her name written with a heart while yelling:

"YEAHHHH! THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND EVERYONE! SHE'S SUPER SMART, DESTROY EVERYONE ELSE EVIE!!!"

Sure, it made her want to die in the moment, but she would definitely be lying if she said it didn't warm her heart knowing that you cared so much about her and about her winning a competition even she didn't really care about

Just like your reaction to her getting her ultimate warmed her heart.

She hated being the ultimate mathlete. The utp just gave her this title without regard to who she really was and who she wanted to be, and she ranted to you about exactly that while cuddling. You just wrapped your arms around her and started comforting her

"Listen, I don't care what others say about you, or what they expect of you, to me you're Eva tsunaka, the amazing girl that i feel in love with, I couldn't care less about your ultimate,that doesn't define you to me and it shouldn't to anyone else. I love you because you're you ok evie?"

She felt her heart beating even faster than when you kissed her. Your words made her feel understood and so, so loved. She really needed someone like you

While she hated her talent, she couldn't deny that the fact that she was glad to have it if only because the utp gave you one too, and you would be attending eden's garden academy together.

"Are you OK evie? You look nervous"

She took a deep breath and sat on the bench in the train station

"......yeah, I guess I'm just worried about what people are gonna think about me"

"You mean your talent?"

She nodded as you sat on her right and held her hand

"If people pick on you because you're good at math, then that just means they're stupid and can't handle that someone is prettier and smarter than them"

"Hehe......thanks, but that's now what I meant"

"I know......then just get to know them"

"Huh?"

"If you get to know more people than they'll know the real you, the amazing girl you really are"

"............"

"Eva listen, I'm saying this as your partner and with nothing but your best interests in mind. I think you need more friends"

".....d-don't-"

"Or at least people to talk to, I know you have me, but I'm scared that I'm not enough, I want you to be happy, ok? So please, at least try, I don't care if you fail, but at least try to let people know that you're not just a mathlete, but a genuinely wonderful person"

Eva sighed and you kissed her cheek for comfort

"........I'll try my best"

"That's what I like to hear. Now get up and grab your luggage the train is almost here"

After the train arrived, you walked in it hand in hand, seeing all the faces of your future classmates. Little did you know that that train was gonna be the boat that would bring you to hell.

You knew Eva was lying about her talent. You knew from the moment the words ultimate liar slipped from her mouth, and you also knew exactly the reason why, she had told you why not that long ago after all. And you respected her choice. You didn't even need to talk to each other to make an agreement, with only a single glance she knew you would protect her secret as long as necessary.

The announcement of the killing game and the mock trial felt like a blur, you helped investigate, mostly convinced by your girlfriend, but you still couldn't believe it, sure the body was just a puppet but it was the recreation of a real murder, someone was killed so brutally, it made you.....sick.

And when the killing game was officially started that sickness spread over your entire body, will someone of your classmates be killed in such a brutal way? Will you? ......will Eva?

When Wolfgang started to speak, you wanted to say something. Sure, it was nice to think that no one was going to murder each other, but you knew it was impossible. You only started to talk when everyone singled out Eva and Damon for speaking their mind. You defended them, obviously. You told them that Eva was right, and even if it was a harsh truth, it still was the truth. After being judged because of that you just hugged Eva and you two went to sleep in her dorm.

The day the infirmary was revealed, Eva's true ultimate was too. You couldn't do anything but the exact same thing you had been doing this entire time, comfort Eva and try to counter your classmates' comments directed at her. You hugged her again, and you could feel how heavy and tired she was, even if she didn't want to let you know, everything that happened was weighing heavily in her mind.

"C-can you come with me?"

"Huh?"

You opened your eyes and looked down at Eva. She was still hugging you, but her eyes were now locked on yours

"Sure"

She guided you to a point in the infirmary and pointed at something

"A......plushie advertisement?"

"Yes, I already showed it to damon"

"......d-do you want me to buy it?"

"H-huh?"

"I thought you already had a plush-"

She blushed and quickly shut you up

"N-no it's not the plushie, it's a code"

"Oh for the door?"

"Duh"

"Did you figure it out yet?"

"...........no"

For the second time in the game, she lied

"Oh, I see, it's alright if you don't, these kidnappers seem really smart"

"........yeah"

"Well, me and Diana wanted to eat together. Do you wanna join us?"

"No it's fine, I'll go take a nap"

"That's understandable after everything that happened, love you"

"Yeah"

You kissed her cheek and started to go outside but stopped and looked back

"Hey Eva?"

"Hm"

"Can I.....tell you something?"

She nodded and you started approaching her

"..........I'm scared"

"Huh?"

"I'm scared that I'll die, that you'll die and that I couldn't do anything about it.....so can you at least promise me something?"

".......o-of course, what is it?"

You put your pinky in the air

"Let's make it a pinky promise"

"......seriously?" That's so dumb"

"Come on, just do it"

She sighed and intertwined her own pinky with yours

"Let's promise each other that we'll never kill someone"

"W-what?"

"I can't do anything if someone decides to kill you, I can only hope no one does, but if you kill someone, then you'll most likely die..........and if you don't-"

"Then you'll die, with everyone else"

"Yeah, so let's promise that we'll never kill anyone, so our chances of survival increase"

The next words she said were the third best choice she did in her life because, like her confession and acceptance of your friendship, her own soul spoke unfiltered by her brain or other emotions

"..........yes, I promise"

"Great! It's a pinky promise, remember. So if you break it your pinki will fall"

She giggled

"I think that will be the last of my concerns if I kill someone"

"Hehe, Yeah I guess you're right"

You kissed Eva on the cheek and went outside, waving at her. She waved back as her smile faded, she looked at her pinky.... and went to her dorm.

She couldn't handle it anymore, the thoughts were eating up her mind, she was going to die, everyone hated her, of course she was going to be the first victim, she would die.......so she needed to do something about it.

She wiped her tears with her sleeve and put her glasses back on, went to the infirmary and found herself face to face with the door.

She imputed the first two numbers automatically almost as if her body moved itself, she was about to imput the third when she actually started thinking

What did she want to gain by going in that room? She didn't even know what was on the other side..........was she just curious?

No, she knew. She knew that whatever she was gonna find would seal her fate, that it would force her to kill someone.......force

It's funny that she used that words in her thoughts, force, like she didn't already knew who to kill and how to do it, like she didn't already know who to frame and how to act in the class trial, like she didn't already look through the infirmary to see if there were hallucinogenics.

She inputted the third number and took a moment to breathe, her hand on her chest.

When she was about to move her finger in the direction of the last panel, she noticed something.

The floor was wet.

She looked down and saw that her shirt was too, not by much, it was when she brushed her hand against her cheek that she realized where the water was coming from.

She was crying.

How did she not realize it all this time? Why was she sad? She had already decided her fate, was she scared of getting found out and dying? she had nothing to live for anyway, everyone in this damn academy hated her, she was going to die anyway and no one was going to care about it, they weren't going to investigate how she died and the person who killed her would probably be cheered as they got executed. There was no one who cared about her, just like in her entire life.......no one cared about the true her.

Her finger grazed the fourth number when she remembered something

"Let's promise that we'll never kill someone"

"I love you because you're you ok evie?"

As soon as those words entered her mind, she just fell down on her knees, her body unable to hold the weight of her conscience anymore. She started crying, this time knowing exactly why.

She was going to betray you. She was willing to let you die just because of something that wasn't even true. You cared about her, the real her, you would have cried if she died, and you would have felt betrayed if she killed someone. You loved her, and she betrayed that love by even thinking about committing the murder. She didn't deserve you, she needed to say sorry to your face.

When she finished crying, she immediately went to your dorm, the knocking woke you up, and you were confused to see that Eva was no longer in bed with you. You were worried, considering that you decided to bunk together, so you carefully opened part of the door and saw it was your girlfriend, you saw that her eyes were red so your worry grew even more, you completely opened the door and Eva immediately tackled you in a hug.

"E-eva, what's-"

"I'm *sobs* so sorry, I'm so so sorry"

You could see she started crying crying, so you held her close and started comforting her, not caring about the tears getting on your shirt.

When she calmed down, she sat on the bed and started explaining everything to you, about how everything was getting to her and drove her to think about killing someone. She expected you to hate her. She was one step away from betraying you and throwing away her life, you were very justified to hate her, to break up with her, as much as she didn't want that to happen.....because then she would have been truly alone.

But you hugged her instead, and told her that it was OK, that the fact that she didn't go through was what mattered, that you would always be there for her, no matter what happened

"N-no you- you don't understand!"

She continued sobbing between words

"I-I was about to kill someone, to break our promise! I was ready to throw away your life because of this game!"

"......................"

"W-why did you forgive me so fast!? Why don't you hate me!?"

"........I could never hate you"

"H-huh?"

"I love you Eva I love you so much, I already told you so many times, I know that in a normal situation you'd never do something like this, I don't hate you, I hate tozu and this game, because I've seen the real you, and the real Eva is a girl that would never commit a murder, I feel in love with you and I could never hate you. I love you Eva, please remember that"

Eva wanted to say something more, but she just felt so tired. She had cried and felt too many emotions for a day, so she just thanked you and held onto your body as you two drifted to sleep.

The next day, she woke up feeling better. The night spent thinking about the situation and waking up next to you made her realize how lucky she was to have you and that she should hold on to you and love you just as much as you did.

After talking it over and getting ready, you two went to the dining room where Cassidy told you she had found a copy of super slam sisters and asked you to participate in a tournament.

"Oh, you love that game, eva . Do you wanna participate together?"

"I.........."

She looked at you smiling so brightly at her........and smiled back

"Yeah, I think having fun is what I need"

"Great! So we have all the couples, get ready cause it will be a blast!"

When the game tournament started, you held Eva's hand as you two watched the other students play.

"OK now it's Eva's and y/n's turn"

"Get ready evie, because this time I'll win!"

She rolled her eyes as she took the controller

"You always say that"

She ended up winning very easily but offered you a kiss as a consolation prince

"Wow that was insane Eva, how did you do that?"

"Oh, it's not that hard. You just have to watch your opponent and move accordingly"

"You gotta teach me that, you might even be able to beat me! Let's train together sometimes, Please?"

"H-huh?"

"And then we could do your make-up, I wanted to hang out with you......i-if you'd like"

"I.....don't think I'd look good with make-up"

She felt you putting your arm on her shoulder

"I think you'd look amazing in any way"

You smiled again and she felt her heart getting warm, not just at you but at the situation in general, she felt seen and understood, and it was all thanks to you, she's so glad she remembered you yesterday.

She looked back at her pinky and then at you, suddenly you felt Eva's arms wrap around you to the surprise of everyone in the room. She simply murmured two words

"Thank you"

You knew exactly why she thanked you, so you just hugged her back until she pulled away and looked at you again.

You cared about her, the real her, you loved her despite everything and she could never imagine a world without you, she could never imagine what she would have done if you weren't there, if you didn't enter her life.

She was so, so glad to have you.

[katyawriteswhump]

love and other catastrophes at the omega cafe (3.2/8)

And here's 3.2, sorry about the little wait. The chapters are pretty long in this and today I needed bite-size chunks to cope!💚

Summary: Steve is a runaway Omega who gets a job at an Omega café, where he’s basically paid to curl up and purr in Alphas’ laps. It’s legal, and he earns a living, rents his own place. He’s getting along fine for a packless Omega. Then Alpha rockstar Eddie Munson turns up for an hour of ‘kitty’ petting, and shatters Steve’s fragile little world…

Rating: as flagged earlier, we're E now; No major warnings; Tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, a/b/o dynamics, fluff and angst, sexual content 💚 

Chapter 1 on tumblr (also index post) Chapter 2 on tumblr Chapter 3.1 Chapter 4.1 On AO3

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Preview:

“Okay, Honey,” Eddie said, “as long as you understand nothing’s changed?” Steve resisted unleashing a disappointed squeal. He was sooooo mixed-up. “How about we start with your head in my lap? That sound good?” “Sure.” Steve ran shaky fingers across his lips. “Business as usual, huh?” Eddie helped Steve arrange himself flat on his back, legs stretched along the length of the couch. He rested his head on Eddie’s thighs, with one of the many cushions wedged between them. He relaxed almost instantly. He was facing straight up at Eddie, which was different and nice. Beyond nice. Eddie kicked off fiddling with the kitty ears, which amused and fascinated him. He twanged their band, then captured little strands of Steve’s hair from beneath it, tugging and tangling. Steve tingled everywhere Eddie deigned to touch. Especially his exposed belly, which Eddie soon blessed with some delicious, circular rubs.

Chapter 3.1 Chapter 3.2 below cut

The back of the café was a total dump, which was a problem for Steve.

Where the hell could you entertain a rockstar who doubtless lived in the lap of luxury? There was only the washroom, the corridor, a poky galley kitchen and…

Tommy’s office.

Tommy had inherited the café from his aunt. He wasn’t a terrible manager, leaving most of the day-to-day running to Carol. He kept himself occupied with other ‘business’ operations, which tended to crash and burn. His office was usually filled with boxes of whatever dubious stock he was trying to shift that month.

Speak of the devil—Tommy emerged from the office, wearing his usual badly fitting brown suit.

“Steve! My employee of the decade!” Tommy didn’t even sound that snarky. He grabbed Steve’s arm and tugged him inside. “Hope you like what we’ve done with the place.”

Steve blinked. “Um, yeah?”

“Yeah? Is that all you can say? Jesus, I spent all day getting this turd to shine.”

To be fair, the Beta had done a decent day’s work for once. His desk had been pushed against the breeze-block walls, which had been covered with deep-purple chiffon drapes. A comfy chaise-longue had been dragged in, almost lost beneath a slew of cushions, some of which looked nearly new. The floorboards were covered with a deep-shag rug, with a couple of dubious brown stains on it.

The icing on the backroom cup-cake was a cracked vase with fake daisies. And a paper lantern barely shading a super-bright and buzzing pre-LED bulb.

Steve wrinkled his nose, slightly bemused. He had never been in an actual brothel.

He was damn sure they looked exactly like this.

“Now, where did I put that kitty-tail butt-plug?” said Tommy, with a quizzical tap of his chin.

“What? No… Carol said…” Steve felt like the dirty rug had been yanked from under his feet. He’d never had anything up there, and he sure as heck wasn’t ready for it. Even for Eddie! “I didn’t agree… I don’t… I can’t…”

“Relax! I’m kidding.” Tommy clapped Steve on the shoulder. Steve managed to rein in his panic enough to scowl. “Look, you’re the boss here. As far as I’m concerned, same rules apply as always, although back here… Screw it, it’s up to you. That guy tries it on, you know how tuned in Chrissy and Carol are to your squeals. We’ll come running, I promise. Tho’…” He flashed a mega-watt grin. “We’re all keeping our fingers crossed for more tips in triple figures, huh?”

“Yeah? Maybe use it to buy a proper lampshade, you cheapskate. Oh, and a less skanky rug would be nice.”

Tommy hooted, swaying back onto his heels. “Watch it, Kitty-boy. Or I’ll send Carol in, claws out. She’s in a total pre-heat mood tonight—meeeeow!”

Once Tommy left, Steve got changed into his black velour hotpants and a proper tight, cropped tee that showed off a swathe of his lil’ flat tummy. He even purred slightly as he slid on his kitty-ear headband. It nestled so prettily in his hair. He quietly knew he rocked that look better than anyone, even Chrissy.

He then buckled on a purple collar with delicate silver kitty-shape studs.

No jingly bell.

They were okay in a noisy café. Back here, it’d sound absurd. He had a stuffed cat tail to affix to the back of his shorts. He put that aside too. He way preferred the little cottontails they wore on monthly bunny nights. Finally, he went light on the make-up—no kitty nose, just his usual brown mascara and eyeliner and a few wispy whiskers sketched with the same.

At five to seven, when Eddie was due, Steve perched on the chaise-longue. He found himself rubbing his bare tummy, trying to breathe slowly and calm himself.

It didn’t work. He began to feel slightly sick.

The clock ticked toward ten past seven.

Maybe Eddie wasn’t coming? A lump lodged in his throat, which he struggled to swallow.

At quarter past, he heard voices in the corridor. Tommy… and Eddie! Steve flung himself back against the couch, one arm thrown above his head. The other gravitated to his upper inner thigh, where he lightly stroked the downy hair.

The door opened. Eddie absorbed the sight of Steve and stopped dead.

“Damn, look at you.” Eddie sounded oddly wistful. “You’re a bit too fucking much, Stevie.”

Right then, everything felt too much. Steve hardly knew what he was doing, striking some slutty pose. He lapped up the sight of Eddie—no hat, scarf, or shades hiding those to-die-for eyes.

And his scent.

OMFG.

If Tommy had pumped much chemically crap in here, Hurricane Eddie swept all aside. Smoky, plummy yumminess swirled into Steve’s mouth, his nose. For the first time, he also caught hints of dark chocolate. He wanted to chew on it like a kitty with a cat-nip cushion.

All this passed in a twitch of an eyelash.

Then Steve said, slightly wobbly, “Hey there. Looking pretty awesome yourself.”

Eddie beamed, closed the door. He cast off a leather jacket, plastered with dozens of stitched patches, and closed the gap between them with two long strides. He sat down beside Steve, who sprung up keenly allowing Eddie to envelop him. Steve buried his face beneath Eddie’s collarbone. He inhaled long and deep, desperately resisting the urge to slide his nose up to Eddie’s scent gland and drown in it. His chest firmed against Eddie’s, and his knee crawled into Eddie’s lap already.

Eddie drew back, tenderly cupping Steve’s jaw. “You okay there, Stevie? You’re trembling.” His face clouded and he puffed through his nostrils. “Did that asshat manager ask you to do anything you didn’t want? If he did—"

“No!” It was the truth, tho’ the butt-plug gag hadn’t exactly helped his nerves. Yeah, right, Harrington. Or did you hate the idea only because, like the normal kitty-tail, it’d spoil the view of your ass? “Really, I’m fine.”

“Okay, Honey,” Eddie said, “as long as you understand nothing’s changed?” Steve resisted unleashing a disappointed squeal. He was sooooo mixed-up. “How about we start with your head in my lap? That sound good?”

“Sure.” Steve ran shaky fingers across his lips. “Business as usual, huh?”

Eddie helped Steve arrange himself flat on his back, legs stretched along the length of the couch. He rested his head on Eddie’s thighs, with one of the many cushions wedged between them. He relaxed almost instantly. He was facing straight up at Eddie, which was different and nice.

Beyond nice.

He lapped up Eddie’s hilariously dorky grins, and those dimples. Just as intoxicating, he absorbed Eddie’s bare arms for the first time, the long rope-like muscles patterned with gracefully flowing tattoos. There were bats and crazy puppets and laughing skulls. They ought to scare Steve shitless. Instead, he repressed a strong urge to lick them.

Eddie kicked off fiddling with the kitty ears, which amused and fascinated him. He twanged their band, then captured little strands of Steve’s hair from beneath it, tugging and tangling. Steve tingled everywhere Eddie deigned to touch.

Especially his exposed belly, which Eddie soon blessed with some delicious, circular rubs.

He didn’t even have to worry about sparkling conversation, something that’d played on his mind. Eddie chatted excitedly about his afternoon in the studio:

“I got my mojo back, Stevie.” Eddie tickled a finger under Steve’s chin, setting Steve giggling between mad purrs. “I got a demo with me. You wanna hear?”

Steve’s purrs jammed up in surprise. “Yeah! Totally.”

“Only if you’re sure? Honestly, I remember what you said about music being overwhelming and all—”

“No, no, no, no, no. Honestly, I’m cool.”

I’ll never flip out with you to hold my hand, Alpha.

Steve’s right mind was literally face-palming, Seriously, Harrington?  However, the majority of his brain cells screamed, Lalala not listening!

He settled sidelong in Eddie’s lap, with Eddie’s earbuds nestled in his non-kitty ears. Eddie hooked an arm around Steve’s shoulders. His finger hovered over ‘play’ on his phone. “Ready, Steve?”

Steve quirked a smile, nodded.

A thudding base-beat started up, joined by howling guitars. The volume wasn’t too high. It still shook Steve to his core. He huddled tighter into Eddie, fingers twisting in the front of Eddie’s vest. Then he dared peep up, eyes stretching wide.

“Okay?” mouthed Eddie.

Steve nodded. An ape-wire electro-synth noise joined the fray. Then, flying above it all, somebody started to sing. Eddie started to sing:

Mate me in blood

Set a fire in my bones

My brain is your creature

Your death knell rings home…

Steve couldn’t make sense of this shit. But when Eddie screamed the word ‘home,’ it struck him hard and deep.

His brow flopped heavily against Eddie’s neck. Unsurprisingly, he could smell Eddie—a powerful red wine flavor, now with a metallic hint. Like it was blended with blood. He could smell himself too. Their mingled scents rose and clouded the room. The music was killing him and he was dying happy…

Eddie shut off the song. “Shit, sorry. You okay?”

Steve jerked his chin up, lip hitching in a snarl. Simultaneously, he clawed at Eddie’s vest like a wild thing.

“Please, Alpha! I need it… I need you… More music… MORE!”

A wave of slick gushed from Steve. He was gonna roll over and present himself, then a desire for friction consumed him. He ripped the protective cushion from Eddie’s thighs.

Seconds later, he was humping himself crazily into the stunned-looking Alpha’s lap.

Chapter 4.1 on tumblr

Chapter 4 on AO3

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Thank you so very much for reading. If you enjoyed, every little like and reblog or comment means a lot to me so thank you💚

Other ramblings 💚🐈‍⬛💚 I used the idea of A!Eddie’s voice getting O!Steve all worked up in a recent fic, and here it is again, because I liked the idea, whoops… Okay, and another a little change… I was going to write this all Steve POV, then Ohemgeee (thank you!) suggested in a comment that Eddie’s POV might add something in terms of mutual longing and I thought about it and yeah, it would. We will probably be getting a close-up of Eddie’s thoughts in chapters 5 and 6… 

I am always happy to tag, pls let me know, or you can follow the tag #steddie omega cat cafe 💚

tags 💚🐈‍⬛💚 @disrespectedgoatman 💚 @bumblebeecuttlefishes

@katethetank 💚 @themoonagainstmers 💚 @chaotic-waffle 💚

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

[pikahlua]

Wait pika do you really mean don't ask you about predictions? Some of my favourite Tumblr posts of all time are your thoughts, theories and predictions! :((

Please sleep also, but when you can let us know what's going on in that head of yours. I'm desperate for someone with a brain cell to discuss this chapter! (Twitter is a cesspit)

I mean, you can ask lol. I just sometimes get these vague "any predictions?" asks and it's like, YES. YES I HAVE SOME. BUT IT'S FAR TOO MANY TO JUST LIST LIKE THAT, CAN YOU PLEASE BE MORE SPECIFIC?

Okay, I'll tell you about my thoughts.

This is a new frame of the scene in chapter 1. This perspective doesn't exist as a drawing in chapter 1, but we know pretty easily what this scene was about. Why is Horikoshi putting the scene here though? Why does this scene have the line "Let go of One For All"? Why not draw Kudou saying it, or Izuku's reaction to it? Is it because this is a memory of the scene where Izuku receives OFA, so giving OFA up is coming around full circle to this moment again?

I don't think so.

This is not the moment where All Might proclaims "you are worthy of inheriting my power" and Izuku looks up in shock. This is the moment where All Might says the words Izuku has longed to hear his whole life: "You can become a hero."

We're coming back to this moment now because the emphasis is on Izuku's upcoming choice. This is about the MEANING Izuku places in OFA. All Might told Izuku "you can't become a hero without a quirk," then shows up to tell Izuku he can become a hero...by giving him his quirk.

To Izuku, letting go of One For All is sacrificing his greatest dream. He believes by giving up One For All, he can no longer be a hero. Even though there have been moments where All Might let on that the reason Izuku deserves to have OFA is because he's already a hero, Izuku never seems to internalize that answer. He thinks his heroism is tied to being the bearer of One For All.

No one has ever told Izuku he can be a hero without a quirk.

I said before I had a big guess about why Katsuki's memory was wiped at the end of Heroes Rising. Notably, he is allowed to remember most of what happens. His memory cuts off from the moment Izuku passed One For All onto him. Do you remember what Katsuki said after he got OFA?

"This is the end of your dream then, too, huh?"

That's the last thing he ever says on the matter. Sure, it's the moment where Izuku answers with "It's okay if it's you" and all that, but Katsuki never responds to that. We don't know what he's thinking about this moment.

The only clue we have is the fact that he accepted the quirk from Izuku, and how he reacted to that. He seems quite upset by the prospect, but in the end he relents and accepts OFA willingly.

Perhaps the issue he is grappling with in his heart in these moments is not the fact that he has to inherit OFA but that Izuku has to lose it. Which means...the reason he loses his memory is because his reaction is important. It's a moment we will have in the manga, which makes it a spoiler.

We've never heard Katsuki tell Izuku what he thinks of quirklessness now. All he's ever told Izuku is that way back when, he thought it meant Izuku was supposed to be beneath him. He doesn't even tell Izuku why he felt like somehow Izuku was actually above him.

He's also only ever told Izuku his actions were correct ever since he received One For All, nothing about before.

I think Katsuki's reaction to Izuku losing OFA--which could come before the final battle or after--will have to be about his feelings regarding Izuku's quirklessness. I think Izuku is going to be incredibly hurt by losing One For All because he'll think he has lost his dream, and Katsuki is going to have to set him right, because only Katsuki knew who Izuku was before he had One For All. All Might is the only other person who had at best a glimpse of Izuku.

I think Katsuki has been coming to terms with just how special Izuku is, how heroic he always has been, and that he's the only one capable of acknowledging it in a way Izuku will be able to hear because he knew Izuku before he got One For All. I think he's been grappling with this possibility ever since DvK2.

And I think he grapples with it again in Katsuki Bakugou: Rising.

In the same way Izuku saw something great in Katsuki that he wanted to cling to so he could see what Katsuki would one day become, Katsuki has always seen something great in Izuku, which awed and scared him. Their greatest divide was in not knowing what greatness the other saw in them. Katsuki has to tell Izuku what Izuku is to him.

Katsuki has to tell Izuku the words he's always wanted to hear, that he can be a hero, quirk or no, that Izuku always has been a hero, more than anybody else. Katsuki knows the truth of it firsthand.

[fisheito]

This was my introduction to bunny waiter eiden,which warrants a cut because I'm me🫢😑😐

I wuz screaMun because ppl weRE FAST ON THAT SHITE the dash was lighting up with eiden intimacy room details and i was Aghast LIKE NO!!! I CANNOT LOOK UPON YE .

I must RUN INTO TH3 QI LALAPP .APP. POSTHASTE

Oh got THERE HE IS . DIVERGENT DREAM? PLEASE ohhh look he's doing magic tricks just like he was just showing off to kuya in sleepless fun fair awww the continuity!!!-----

SHUT UPPPP I AGREE WITH YOU 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🥺😭

So I FINISH READING the chapters that are released and i get to the Battle stages and OhMo what's this i see

Multiplier?+?+?+++!!!

Ohhhkaaaaayy that means i have to roll for eidento get my max rewards NoOooo;;; he's always eluded me I'm gonna lose all my comtracts qnd BE EMOTIONALLY CRUSHED 3 YEARS IN A ROW (ノД｀)ノ eiden PleaSe come to me i want your furniture my floors are barren i am in desperate need of chairs for my tables and your little nightstand of beverages PLEQSE. I HAVE SO MUCH OF YOUR FAVOURITE FOOD. PLEASE.

PSPSSPSPPSPSSPSPSPPSSPS

GasP NO...ITCANTBE!!!!

>?! In THE FIRST 20 PULLS. wsit who are u protecting what is the story behind your line--

MY NEW FURNITURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU BEAUTIFUL BLESSED GENEROUS EIDEN MWAH I ML OVOE U

now. what are you. Are you going to help me in battle what's your deal

Light guardian!!! That's cool!! Don't have a light guardian in my battle roster!!

Wtf is going on!!!!! This doesnt look like a set of pure guardian skills!@!!! WHATEVER! IT'S FINE! IT'S EVEN BETTER, ACTUALLY BECAUSE I DOUBT ANY REGULAR GUARDIAN CAN OUTCLASS SR MORVAY ANYWAY

Hmmm...... does that mean i won't really need this eiden for most battles? Morv has been carrying me and idk if it's worth it to build eiden to 3 stars because i only have 1 of him... that would cost a LOT of memory shards... :/

BUT EVERY EIDEN HAS BEEN SOOOO USEFUL UPON RELEASE. I CANNOT MISS OUT ON HIM THIS TIME!!!

CRYSTALS FOR YOU, .YMY LIEGE 🫴🫴🫴🫴🫴🫴 . Did i just drop the 5400 memory crystals I've been saving for years oh whatever i still have SOMe left

WAughH i NEED TO LEVEL HIM NOW I DON'T KNOW WHEN I'LL NEED HIM IN BATTLE BUT I NEED TO BUILD HIM *NOW*

MUST REACH MINIMUM TIER 6 SPECIAL ABILITY!!!!! I CAN (PROBABLY) AFFORD THAT MUCH I CAN BUILD HIM MORE WHEN I ACTUALLY USE HIM IN BATTLEA AA A A A AAAAAAAAAA WHER E IS MY GOLD I NEED COIN

AND NOW FOR THOSE INTIMQCYROOM BUFFS

Aaahhhh..... eiden is now the default face once i enter the Intimacy Rooms..... yes, this feels proper. Arrival of the king. Positioned Where he rightfully belongs.

Oh Glorb I FORGOT THAT GIFTING EIDEN PORTRAITS DOESNY USE ANY POINTS LET'S GOOOWWEEEEEEEEEEE

FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS SALTED AND SEASONED I nEED TO HEAR HIS 18 SECOND ORGASM NOISE (<- so the legends say.idk. i never counted. I should count now. what The FriauK wAS TGAT SQUEAK)

How did it only take ~200 portrsits to unlock all 5 rooms what have i been hoarding for why didn't the other eidens come to me SIR I'M KEEPING YOUR FAVE SNACKS IN MY PANTRY FOREVER SO YOU'LL BE ENTICED TO VISIT. EIDEN YOU'RE KILLING ME IM RUNNING OUT OF ROOM FOR MY OWN SNACKS BECAUSE YOURS ARE TAKING UP ALL THE SPACE--!!

5-room-buffed now. BReathes. ok. Fine, we're good. We're o k ay. I cant watch the rooms yet, though. Not until the full event is released. I need to know everything before i dive in. AAAAAHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHH I FINALLY HAVE AN EIDEN AT TIME OF RELEASE!!!!! A CURRENT EIDEN!!! HE IS WITH ME AND I'M NOT BANKRUPT! WWAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

..nd this is me after that whirlwind of emotion, which all happened in <10 minutes

Eiden put me in some sort of trance

Whe4rn am i.?

Why are my coffers empty

[captainlunaxmen]

All For The Cameras

Chapter 15 (finale)

Here we are. The final chapter.

I'm so happy and sad it's over, I'm sorry I made you wait, but I almost didn't want it to end.

I hope you guys like it, let me know what tou think about the ending and the whole series, I would really appreciate it ❤️

Chapter summary: well deserved peace.

Chapter warnings: Hunger Games violence, death, grief, Snow being Snow, !!SotR spoilers!!

Tag list

@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 @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @abaker74 @syd649 @meikoo @secretsicanthideanymore @p1stachi @laylasshiftingtonight @yourmumstoy @s0urw00lf @kermits-bitch @littleshadow17 @laylamarie222

@piya-re @ivymyers @potao-o @wqstedyouths @kaceyh24 @miniatureblazellama @lillell4670 @11jaz @f1blogs @ooddiieesblog @capswife @lillell467 @noodleisodd @seasonswinter

@readawaythereality2 @thecrowsgambit @scriptedinkbyxim @lunacurlclaw

I'm sorry if I can't tag everyone😔🥺

I vaguely hear noises from around me, I can tell I am laying down, someone is gently caressing my head. I try to slowly open my eyes.

"She's fine, just a lot happened." I can make out Haymitch's voice above me, so I try to sit up, catching his attention, "Hey princess, easy there."

"I'm sorry." I say, sitting up.

"Nothing to be sorry about." He assures me.

"I wasn't out long, was I?" I ask.

"Not even an hour, but we have news." Cressida comes into view.

"Which are?" I accept some water from Haymitch.

"We got in." She says, "we did it."

"Really?!" I exclaim.

"Yes, princess, we did it." Haymitch confirms, I look at him, my eyes watering and him nodding.

"Oh my god.." I gasp, hugging him, "Katniss? Is she okay?"

"No news so far." He says, "but I wouldn't think the worst. We know her."

"I know, I know, I just..."

"It's okay, I'm worried too." He gives me a side hug, comforting me by caressing my side.

"The medic are ready to transfer all wounded to a more equipped place." Cressida explains, "you could see him then."

"Thanks" I nod, "are there any news about him?"

"They said he's out, but he should be out of trouble now." She tells me, "he's safe, Y/n, he's safe."

I let out a sudden sob and Haymitch hugs me tighter, shushing me.

"It's okay, it's okay," he repeats.

I pull away wiping my tears and accept his help to stand.

"Is there... is there anything to do?" I ask.

"Take a break, Y/n, I know you're trying to keep your mind busy, but take a moment to breath." He tells me, "you're safe."

"I only want to help." I try to hide my nerves.

Haymitch gently grab me by my shoulders, moving me so I face him.

"We did it. You're safe, we're all safe." He cups my face, "you can take a break."

"Okay..." I nod, "Okay... yeah... I get it..."

"You're fine, princess." He reminds me, "don't worry."

He hugs me once again and I allow myself to let out a sigh of relief, a few tears falling freely again, relieved.

We did it.

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

They did transfer all the wounded to a makeshift hospital near the Mansion and as, they said, they let me follow Finnick, still unconscious, but alive.

I don't take my eyes away from him for even a moment, too scared something could happen in any moment.

Only the door opening, suddenly, makes my eyes snap away from him.

"Hey." Peeta walks in.

"Hey." I tiredly say, "how are you?"

"I.... I'm surprisingly okay, you?" He comes closer, sitting next to me.

"Just worried." I reply, forcing out a smile, "do you know anything about Katniss?"

"They say she woke up, she okay," he tells me, and I feel my shoulder relaxing a little, "she just refuses to speak... her sister..."

"I understand." I take a deep breath, "they told me what happened, it's... horrible."

"I... I wantwd..." he tries to say something but holds back.

"What is it?" I ask gently, to reassure him.

"I... I just thought that maybe you could talk to her..." he says, softly, "you're the only one who can understand her, it's not comfort... it's about being understood."

"I... I can try." I say.

"You don't have to... I was just..."

"Peeta, it's okay, I will try and talk to her." I gently tells him, he nods his head letting out a breath, "are you sure you're okay, Peeta?"

"I think I am, I do know it's all over, but I'm afraid that... that..."

"Something will linger." I guess and he nods, I take a beep breath, "I'm afraid it will, what you've been through is hard to shake off. And what the Capitol did... is even harder."

"You've been through the same." He tells me, almost to remind me, "I know it might not seem like it, and maybe it's a little selfish... but I almost was glad you were there with us... you always managed to keep me sane during my games and after, so having you there... it doesn't make sense, but I want to say thank you for everything."

"Oh, Peeta..." I feel my eyes burning once again, "thank you."

"And... maybe it won't mean much coming from me... but I'm sure your brother would be proud of you." He then says, giving me one of his sweet smiles, there's still his old self inside.

"Oh now you did it." I say, letting the tears stream down my face freely, earning a soft chuckle from him,"it means a lot, Peeta, thank you."

"We're friends, right?" He says, I can tell he's somehow checking too so I smile at him.

"Yes," I nod, "we are."

He smiles, grateful, he give one quick look at Finnick then sighs.

"Go take a break, I'll stay with him." He tells me.

"I'm okay, I appreciate it, but I'm fine." I reply.

"Listen to him, princess." Haymitch enters the room almost without a sound, or maybe we were just too into our conversation to notice.

"I'm okay. I promise." I try, but Haymitch shakes his head.

"Okay, how about you just go and try to open Snow's vault?" He proposes, "he's in custody and I don't think he would want to collaborate. Plus, you're the most eligible to do it, given your knowledge."

"Where is he?" I ask.

"Don't." He says, sternly.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"You don't have to talk to him."

"I wasn't planning on it." I say, he sends me an unconvinced look, "okay... I did... I did want to."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Y/n." Peeta agrees with Haymitch.

"He owes me answers." I tell them, "if you don't want me to stay here, tell me where he is."

"He..." Haymitch sighs deeply, defeated, "he's in the greenhouse."

"Thanks" I say before standing up, "let me know immediately if he wakes up. Please?"

"Of course, of course." Peeta says.

I nod my head grateful, then I walk past Haymitch and out of the room.

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

I stand in front of the doors to the greenhouse, still as a rock. I got permission to enter, but I can't seem to move my feet to do so.

Snow has no power anymore. He can't do anything to anyone. Yet there is something that keeps my heart pounding in my chest, I don't like it.

I can't see much inside, but I do notice some movement inside. I snap out of my thoughts and just enter. The perfume of plants and flower is strong as I enter, I scan the area until I see him.

Snow tending to some roses.

"I was wondering when you'd show up, my dear." He says, turning around and smiling at me, "I've been waiting."

"Of course you have." I say rolling my eyes.

"I gather your district lover is alive." He comments.

"Gather from what?" I snap, hating how he thinks he can still read me like a book.

"You would've come here sooner." He states, rather proudly, "but one thing I have to admit," he says, sitting down on a chair, changing the subject completely, "my most sincere congratulations, I've always thought to be able to see right through you, but you proved me wrong."

"Did I, uh?" I scoff.

"Oh yes, I'm impressed, actually." He says, almost sweetly, "but of course, you're not here to hear my compliments, are you?"

He has a knowing smile on his face, like he still knows me.

"Why us?" I ask.

"Pardon?" He replies, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket.

"Why me and my brother?" I specify.

"Aah, I see." He nods his head, "If I answer your questions, will you answer mine?"

"This is not a friendly exchange, Snow." I snap again.

"Oh." He lets out a surprised and impressed, "how does it feel to not have to pretend anymore, my dear?"

"Answer the question." I insist.

"If. If you answer mine." He stubbornly says.

I sigh, weighing my options. There's no way he'll just leave it.

"Fine." I sigh, "what's your question?"

"Do you know where your fiance went?" He ask, casually.

"Not a clue, nor a care." I reply.

"I would care, seeing how your district lover is still down."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your parents used to be the most loyal to me," he starts, ignoring me, "until they decided they needed time off." He looks me deep in the eyes, " 'our children are young', they told me, 'they need us both, especially our third one, he is sick', they said." That gets my eyes to widen, "ah, you didn't know that, of course, apologies."

"You're lying." I say, more to myself than him, "what did you do?"

"They wanted to quit. Said family was more important, so I reduced their burden." He says, simply, even shrugging.

"I had... I..."

"Another brother, yes." He nods, "that made them change their mind."

I feel sick in my stomach, breathing starts feeling hard and my eyes are fixated on him not caring if he sees my tears or not.

"That was a warning, wasn't it?" I ask and he nods, "so... why did you killed them then? Did they change their minds again?"

"Let's say they tried to use my methods against me." He explains.

"And why taking us in?"

"I have one last question." He says, unfazed.

"Oh fuck you." I snap, for what feels like the millionth time.

"You know the rules."

"Okay." I scoff, wiping away my tears, "but answer mine first."

"I think you already know the answer to that, my dear." He smiles.

"To make an example..." I nod, "the rest of your filthy circle knew about us, didn't they?" He nods his head yes to my question, "fuck..."

"Now... was it your idea to bomb Capitol's children?" He coldly asks.

I look at him, dumbfounded, wondering if I heard him correctly.

"What?"

"Was it your idea to bomb Capitol's children?" He repeats, "you know, the reason her sister is dead now."

"What are you talking about?" I feel like my brain stopped working all of a sudden.

"Aw... don't tell me you really thought that was my idea." He says, condescending, "a waste of lives really."

"And you hate waste..." I start realising, "it wasn't... was it..."

"Are you sure I'm the only monster here?" He asks, laughing.

I shake my head and rush out, needing air desperately.

Once I'm out I take deep breaths, my hands are shaking. I had another brother and Snow took him away from me, then my parents, then my brother... leaving me completely alone. I rush back inside.

"Why keeping me alive? My not killing me as well? I couldn't be THAT useful to you, I just couldn't be worth the fuss." I say, getting right in front of him, he was cleaning his mouth as I entered again, drops of blood on his once white hankerchief, "answer plainly, I'm tired of games."

He looks up at me, catching his breath.

"I could see your potential." He simply says.

"I..." I take a deep breath, regaining some composure, "my only regret is that you lived this long before losing. You consider the Games a reminder of the true nature of people... and I always wanted to know what happened in your life to make you think like that, to make you this," I grimace, "this absolute asshole... but I stopped caring, because no event, none at all could ever justify what you've done."

And for the last time I walk out, not caring if he's smiling or if he's scared.

"I'd keep and eye out for your fiance, my dear." Is all I hear before I close the doors of the greenhouse.

I take a moment, to recollect myself, wipe away the tears that did fall down my face and head back to Finnick.

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

I hear commotion as I near the room, cautiously I walk slower to the source of the noise and see some soldiers holding someone down, Haymitch is close, breathing heavily.

"Haymitch?" I call, quickening my pace to him, "what ha-"

"Sweetheart, don't" he starts, but I stop listening, eyes on Cal being held down.

"What happened?" I ask.

"He stormed in, gun in hand. Unfortunately for him Peeta and I were there." Haymitch explains.

"Take him away." I say to the soldiers, "lock him as far away as possible."

They start to shove him away, I turn to Haymitch, but my eyes catch something on the ground.

The gun.

I kneel down to grab it so I can get rid of it.

"I'll just..." I can't finish my sentence because we hear the soldiers grunt and when we look their way Cal is sprinting towards us, towards me.

He shoves Haymitch hard enough to make him fall, he grabs me by my shoulder making me hit the wall.

"You really tested me, my dear... I won't stop until he is dead, lock me away and I will always find a way to get you and him. There won't be a place safe eno-" he stops mid-sentence.

I shot him. I didn't even realise I did.

He look down and so do I, almost as if I'm just as surprised as him. Suddenly he lets me go and fall.

Dead.

I did use a gun before, but I don't think I've ever killed someone... I always slow them down... never shoot to kill.

Not so close.

"Y/n..." Haymitch says my name carefully and then I feel him hugging me, "it's okay, you're safe. Hey, hey, he can't hurt anyone anymore."

I nod, shocked, but relieved.

"Well... we know where to take the body at least." One of the soldiers says before they grab Cal and head off.

"I..."

"Shhh it's okay." He tells me.

"Is he okay?" I ask, "are you two okay?"

"Finnick is still asleep, he's fine." He makes me look at him, "Peeta and I as well. Okay?"

"Thank you." I say, catching my breath.

He nods and head inside with me.

I rush to Peeta standing beside Finnick's bed, I hug him thanking him.

"No need, everything is fine." He tells me hugging me back, "he'll get what he deserve."

"Already did." Haymitch says, "he's dead."

"He is? How?"

"He just got what he deserved." He simply answers.

I then sit down again next to Finnick's bed and just rest.

"Did Snow tell you anything?" Peeta asks, and I nod, "do you want to talk about it?"

"Not now." I say gently, offering him a tired smile.

"Anytime." He nods.

"Could you... could you guys give me a moment alone?" I ask.

"Just an advice, princess." Haymitch starts and I nod for him to go ahead, "just enjoy your time together now. You risked losing him enough. And you don't deserve to go through that pain, okay?"

"Thanks."I nod, understanding, and agreeing with his words. I gently put my hand on Finnick's as he sleeps.

"Call if you need us." Haymitch says and with that he walks towards the exit.

"Whay was their name?" I ask before he could leave, he turns to me, sending me a sad smile.

"Maybe another time," he tells me and I smile at him assuring him it's okay,"she would've love you, that I can tell you."

Haymitch then walks out and I let out a deep sigh, thinking back about all the things Snow said, Cal's death and finally my eyes land to Finnick's body and I let myself smile, knowing he's fine. I lay my head on the bed, simply enjoying a moment of peace.

Third person POV

Finnick slowly, tiredly, opens his eyes. He's confused for a moment, not recognising where he is, nor why he's laying down, but the faint pain in his body slowly reminds him of the sewers. He groans and tries to sit up when he finally notice a little weight on his hand.

Then he sees her.

Y/n is resting her head on the bed, while her hand is holding his. Finnick decides to take a moment to watch her.

She looks tired, yet there's some peace behind it, he tiredly smiles and slowly moves his hand out of hers. He gently touches her head, feeling happy for the first time in years, so much his eyes fill with tears. Suddenly she flinches and sits up straight, only to let out a sigh of relief when she notices there's no one in the room, but when her eyes land on his, she gasps loudly.

"Oh!" She exclaims, "you're awake!" She immediately stands to bend and hug him, but stops herself once she sees his tears. "What's wrong? Are you in pain? I'll call for-"

"No... no" he stops her, taking her hand, "I'm fine, I am more than fine."

"Are you sure? I can call for a nurse." She insists, still checking him.

"I promise you." He tugs at her to sit down again, "what happened after the sewers?"

"You don't remember?" She asks, caressing his hand lovingly.

"There are some... pieces, but they all look blurred." He explains.

"Well... uh... Cressida knew a place, a safe place, Tigris, do you remember her? From the games?" Finnick nods, "she helped us, gave us something to patch you up, but..." she chokes on her words, memories of that night still vivid in her mind, "but I guess you tried to stand and fall, opening the stitches. Then you blacked out again."

"Oh fuck... I'm sorry." He says, softly, "for scaring you."

"Don't. There is nothing to apologise for."

"Where are we?" He finally asks.

"We're at a hospital. Near Snow's mansion." She tells him, and seeing his confused expression, "we got in. Snow is being held and ready for his sentence."

"Oh my god." He gasps, "really?"

Y/n nods, eyes watering too.

A comforting silence falls between them as they look at each other, still not quite believing it's all over.

"I remember you coming back for me." He suddenly says, "I remember... I remember you taking care of me, carring me through the underground station... then...uh..."

"It's okay, no need to strive. Take your time." She tells him sweetly.

"Are you okay, love?" He the asks, not even considering letting her hand anytime soon.

"Me? Finnick, you almost died, you got bitten by I don't know how many mutts down there." She reminds him, surprised by his question.

"So?" He shrugs, a boyish grin on his face, "I'll always worry about you." That earns an eye roll from Y/n, but a smile as well.

"I'm okay." She then says, "I can breath again."

But Finnick can still sense some tension in her.

"You went see Snow, didn't you?" Finnick can't help but ask, and seeing her smile fall was the answer he needed, "did anything happen?"

"Well..." she takes a deep breath, "I... he told me something I didn't know... and I think I still need to process it."

"I'm here for you whenever you need, you know." He gently bring her hand to his lips and kisses it.

There's a pause.

Y/n looks at him, he does too, and she realises how she can look him in the eyes without breaking eye contact, without feeling bad or scared... not anymore.

"This is the longest I managed to look at you." She says, slightly proud.

"It is." He says, smiling brightly, "I guess that scare did the trick." He jokes and Y/n lets out a relieved chuckle, then she simply looks at him and remembers Haymitch's words.

"I love you." She says, tears making their way out, freely. Finnick looks at her, squeezes her hand and lets out a big puff as his own eyes fill with tears too, smiling.

"Thank goodness, I was this close to bring that night up." He says, laughing.

"You remember!" She accuses him, playfully.

"My love," he starts, sitting up "you told me for the first time that you fell in love with me and you expect me to forget about it? Not a chance."

"You're terrible."

"But you love me." He says proudly, "I wanted you to take your time," he says more seriously, "I love you too... fuck this feels good!"

"What?"y/n asks between laughter.

"Saying in out loud." He replies, "finally be able to scream it. I love you, I love you, I love you-"

"Calm down, you need to recover, Finnick!" She tries to calm him.

"You also promised you would tell me whenever I want so... I want to hear it again." he smirks, arrogantly but sweetly and playful at the same time, earning a laugh from her.

"I love you." She says, smiling.

"Again, please." Tugging her closer.

"I love you."

"Again." Closer.

"I love you."

"Again."

They're face to face now.

"I lov-"

She can't finish her sentence because Finnick's lips are on her, making her melt against him. He gently bring his other hand up to cup her face while hers is keeping herself from fully laying on him, not wanting to hurt him.

They pull apart to breath and simply look at each other, feeling at peace at last. Finnick's hand is gently stroking her face, while Y/n sits back down on the chair next to the bed.

"I love you so much, Y/n." He says, sighing, "so so much."

"I love you too, Finnick." She smiles at him.

They both turn their head hearing the door opening, Peeta walking in with a cup in his hand, he stops mid-step once he looks up and sees Finnick awake and well.

"Finnick." He says, relieved too.

"Hi, Peeta." Finnick waves at him.

"How are you feeling?" Peeta asks as he gets closer.

"I'm..." he looks at Y/n, "I'm feeling great."

"He's still weak and needs his rest, but he's out of trouble." Y/n specifies.

"I'm glad to hear that. If I knew I would've brought something more," he chuckles, "I only brought some tea."

"You can give it to him, he needs to regain energy."

"You do too." Peeta gives her a look and she glares at him.

"I'm fine, thank you very much."

"She's been here non-stop." He literally confess to Finnick.

"You didn't have to." Finnick tells her, squeezing her hand.

"I did."

They stare at each other for a moment before Peeta clears his throat to remind them of his presence.

"It's great you're finally awake, Finnick, we did miss you." He smiles genuinely, "and..." he suddenly gets nervous.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Katniss has been moved to the mansion." He says, "she just doesn't talk... nor eat... I was wondering..."

"I'll go talk to her." Y/n cuts him off, "don't worry." She stands up and turns to face Finnick, "I'll be back soon."

"Don't worry, I'm fine." He reassures her.

"I can stay here, tell him what he missed." Peeta offers and Y/n smiles.

"Thank you." She leans to kiss Finnick, and walks to the door, giving a quick reassuring hug to Peeta as she passes.

Y/n's Pov

I try not to think about being in the mansion in this situation, I will elaborate later, now I only need to find Katniss.

I find her in the room assigned to her, staring out of the window, a plate of untouched food sits on a table not far.

"Hi, Katniss." I say, using the softest voice I can, but as expected she doesn't reply, she simply acknowledged my presence looking at me, I sigh walking closer and sitting at the window with her.

We stay in silence for a while.

"Finnick is awake." I tell her, hoping it might steer something in her, even just slightly, but she says nothing, I can only notice her position a little more relaxed, letting me know she's glad to hear it. "I talked to Snow." I then say, not glancing at her, still looking out to the gardens, "still playing games, even though he lost... can't say I was surprised." I let out a bitter laugh, "Unfortunately he managed to hurt me, one last time mind you, but he did... he told me something I didn't know, something I've never even suspected." I take a deep breath, and realise she is looking at me now, "he told me I had another brother. Can you believe that?"

"He might've lied." She tells me, so I turn to look at her. I try to read her, what she might thinking, what she might be feeling.

"Are you trying to convince yourself or me?" I ask, turning back to the window, "he never lies... unfortunately."

"Yeah..."

"You talked to him?" I ask, careful, she nods, "I'm sorry. Whatever he said, it's likely true."

"He... he did say something." She says, and I turn to her to give her my full attention.

Then Katniss starts talking about what Snow told her... about the bombs. I listen to her carefully, letting her speak at her own pace, waiting for her to finish and then share what he said to me.

And we realise Coin might not be that better...

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

Alma Coin proved us right when, in a meeting she decided to hold with all the victors and myself, she suggested a symbolic last Hunger Games with Capitol's children.

Obviously, a good amount of the victors were against it, but the majority of us decided to agree with Coin. One look at Katniss and I understood her plan, a plan I should've thought about myself for Snow long time ago.

This gave Katniss the perfect opportunity, standing in front of Snow with her bow and arrow, Coin made her speach and now... now we all hold our breath waiting for Katniss to shoot.

Finnick is beside me, holding my hand sensing my nerves. He was surprised when I agree to another Hunger Game, but I know he trusts me and I will soon explain the reason to him.

I watch Katniss aiming, determined look on her face, then her aim changes pointing at Coin and shooting... hitting the target.

And all hell breaks loose.

Snow starts laughing and choking on his own blood, soldiers comes to get Katniss and the people are on Snow in seconds. We are lead back, Haymitch makes sure I'm okay.

I'm afraid this act won't be forgotten and I'm getting nervous for Katniss' fate.

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

"So?" Finnick asks as I enter the room after my meeting with Plutarch.

"Well... uh..." I start, "she won't be facing anything drastic, no imprisonment, nor execution, but they will send her back to district 12."

"Really?" He says letting out a sigh of relief.

"Yeah... yeah... Gale and Beetee testified about their involvement with the firebombs, justifying her actions, using insanity as an excuse... sort of." I explain.

"For her sister's death..?" He asks and I nod, "it's..."

"Absurd? Absolutely." I say, picking at my skin.

Finnick notices my fidgeting and holds my hands.

"Hey... hey... what's wrong?"

"I just... I don't know, it's not fair..." I say, my voice breaks, "after all that, she doesn't deserve to live in... exile like that."

"I know, my love." He hugs me, "maybe they will allow us to visit."

"Of course we can, it's not an actual ezile and Haymitch will go with her... I just... I just think she deserves more than this." I look up at him, letting him caress my sides.

"Maybe this is what she needs, all this... this rebellion took a lot from her, and all she needs now is peace." He says, comforting.

"Yeah... maybe ypu are right." I say, "I hope you're right."

"It's what we all deserve, don't you think?" He asks.

"We do."

"I..." he starts, "Uh... well... did Plutarch ask you to be a part of the new... 'government'? I mean, they would be fools not to keep you, you're smart, your... your plans are brilliant. You. You are brilliant. So it only makes sense-"

"Finnick." I stop him and he closes his mouth smiling embarrassed, "they did... Well, Plutarch did."

"Understandably." He says, I can see there's something he's not saying, something he want to ask.

And I think I know what that is.

"I declined." I say, he takes a moment and then relaxes, relieved.

"Good, good..." he tenses again, "wait, is it really what you want?"

"It is." I say, nodding.

"Great... I was about to say how you too deserve some peace after all these years of... surviving. You deserve to breath."

"So do you." I specify, "so... what were you thinking about?"

"Well... we get to go home." He says before leaning down to kiss me.

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

Finnick open the door to his house in the Victors' village in district 4.

"Make yourself at home, my love." He tells me as I put my things on the floor, taking the interiors in.

"Well... we'll make it ours soon, but it's a good start." I smile.

"I can't wait to replace all bad memories with good ones." He wraps his arms around me from behind, "I'll take you to the beach, we'll go fishing... we... we can start our own family... what do you think?" That makes me tense and he notices, gently turning me to face him, "what's wrong?"

"I... uhm... there's something else... something else they did to me..." I nervously say.

"Hey... hey, it's okay." He tells me, caressing my cheek gently.

"I'm... I'm not sure I'll be able to... you know." I tell him, overthinking it will ruin everything.

I pull away from him.

"My love, look at me." He softly says, "I love you with all my heart, nothing will change that, okay? Nothing." I nod understanding, relaxing a little, "also... it's not a sure thing right?" I shake my head, "Okay, then we can try and if it's supposed to happen, it will. No pressure, no worries, no fears."

"I just... I don't want you to settle for someone who is... broken." I tell him, "That's why I..."

"Hey," he stops me, "you are not broken. There's nothing broken about you. Even if you can't have children, that doesn't mean there's something wrong with you. You are still perfect to me."

"Finnick... you are too kind to me." I tell him.

"Yet, you deserve more." He smiles at me, taking my hand, "we'll try, whatever happens, happens. I. Love. You."

"I love you too." I say, tears threatening to come out.

"I'll never get tired of hearing you say it." He says excitedly.

"I know." I laugh, fully relaxing, "thank you."

"No. Thank you, my love." He says, "plus... trying sounds really fun to me." He pulls me to him.

"It does, doesn't it?" I chuckle, gently putting my hand on his cheek, caressing.

"Oohh, my love, it definitely does." He kisses me with a smirk, "so... wanna take a look at the bedroom?"

"Lead the way, Odair." I grin as he suddenly takes me in his arms, making me let out a loud gasp, "Finnick!"

"I'm leading the way." He chuckles.

He brings me to the master bedroom and gently puts me on the bed, leaning down on top of me kissing me.

Obviously I kiss him back again, and again, and again... and again.

Finally at peace, finally happy.

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

Epilogue

"My love, we're here." Finnick gentle voice wakes me up, signaling we finally got to 12.

"Oh, thank you, hun." I say, standing up.

"I love it when you call me that!" He says all giddy.

"I know." I laugh and walk with him off the train.

We find Peeta and Haymitch waiting for us, I immediately rush to them, hugging them tightly.

"Hi, princess." Haymitch says against my skin.

"Hey." Peeta says softly.

"I miss you two so much." I say, before breaking the hug so that Finnick could greet them too.

"So did we, princess." Haymitch takes my hand, "is he treating you right?"

"He is. I promise."I say smiling at him, who not so subtly glares at Finnick, although playfully.

"Where's Katniss?" Finnick asks.

Peeta and Haymitch shares a look I can't quite decipher, making my curiosity grow, along a little bit of anxiety.

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

"Oh my god!" I exclaim, rushing to Katniss once I see her by the door as we arrive to their victors village house, "you're... you're pregnant?! And you didn't tell me!"

"We wanted it to be a surprise." She tells me.

"That's wonderful." I say, hugging her, "I take this is a better world now for a child."

"It is." She nods.

"Congratulations, Katniss." Finnick hugs her too.

I turn to Peeta, rushing to give him a hug as well.

"Oh you're going to be a great dad." I tell him and he smiles timidly.

"I hope so." He says, embarrassed.

"You will." Finnick agrees with me, "you both will be amazing parents."

"Plus the child will have a great uncle to brighten up their days." Haymitch says, earning an eye roll from Katniss.

"Let's get inside, we can prepare lunch." Peeta let us inside.

"I'll go check on the geese before lunch." Haymitch says and everybody nods, "want to help me, princess?"

"Gladly." I say, kissing Finnick before following Haymitch.

We arrive to, what looks like, a small clearing in the forest where a bunch of geese slowly gather around us.

"Guys, this is Y/n." Haymitch kindly introduces me to the pets.

"They are so cute." I say, softly not to scare them off.

I kneel down to look at them better and one of them slowly arrives to me, almost to make me pet it, which I do.

I can feel Haymitch kneeling beside me.

"She definitely would've loved you." He says, making my mind go back to the days Finnick was recovering from the mutts' attack.

"I'm glad to hear it." I smile at him.

"Her name was Lenore Dove." He tells me, "she was my love."

"She must've been really kind to put up with you." I tease him and he chuckles nodding his head.

"She really was, but I too was a different person back then." He looks at me, "if you'd like to know."

I nod my head, feeling like he's opening up to me. He starts to tell me his story, and I listen carefully. He told me all about Lenore Dove, all about his family, he told me he had a brother, who died at the same age as mine, this made me cry. He also told be about his Games, how everything was manipulated. After he finishes talking I can't help buy hug him, saying how sorry I am.

"It's okay, princess. I'm okay." He tells me pulling away to look at me, "thank you for listening."

"Anytime, Abernathy." I smile, tears still in my eyes, but happy he decided to tell me his story.

"C'mon, let's head back." He stands up, helping me as well.

"Do they know?" I ask.

"Yes, it was about time I told someone and you lot are family." He let me take his arm as we walk back to the house where lunch is finally ready and everyone is ready to eat.

I sit close to Katniss finally talking like friends and not allies. It feels good. Good is the word. If someone looked at us now, they might think we're a happy family, and it's all I need.

We lost our owns along the way, but we found another, not to replace the old one, but to feel alive again.

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

I lay my head on Finnick's chest, Katniss and Peeta gave us the guest room, so now we are laying down together, enjoying our company.

"Are you okay, hun?" I ask him, caressing his chest

"I am." He replies, "are you?"

"More than okay." I tell him, "I'm finally breathing."

"I sometimes can't believe it, you know." He says letting out a chuckle.

"Neither can I." I look up at him, getting closer to kiss his lips tenderly.

The kiss gets deeper as he wraps his arms around me pulling me closer.

"I love you." He says in between kisses.

"I love you." I say it back, "I love you. I love you."

"Should we try again, my love?" He asks, smirking devilishly at me.

"They might hear, Finnick!" I scold him.

"So?" He looks at me, feigning innocence, "we'll be quiet."

"You? You quiet? Yeah... and Johanna's favourite colour is pink."

"Well it's not my fault you are so fucking good." He says before attacking my neck with kisses.

"We're guests, Finnick." I tell him, "be respectful" I chuckle.

"Okay." He says defeated, leaving one last kiss to my neck before laying back down, with me cuddled up next to him, "but, just so you know, once we get home... it's over for you."

"Oh well, I hope so." I say, giving his chest a kiss and laying down on it again.

"Oh god... I love you so much." He sighs, content.

"I love you too, so so much." I smile and let him cuddle me to sleep.

Finally no more pretend, no more faking anything, no more audience, no more show...

All of this, this love, is for us... not for the cameras.

[chimcess]

→ Chapter Ten: The Beyond Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 9.3k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Warnings: ANGST, strong language, PTSD, flashbacks, self-hate, self-depreciation, death, fighting, blood, cursing, new character alert, we have so many characters already i'm so sorry, mauling of an elf, mind reader witch, Clarcton is pretty lame, drinking, drunkenness, nightmares, bonding, missing child (it's not that bad), fear, paranoia, insecurities, regret, guilt, shame, let me know if i've missed anything A/N: We're officially 1/3 of the way through our "little" story. Sorry it's been so long between updates. I've been working on so many things as the same time that TTW got placed on the backburner for a bit. Thanks for reading!

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I never expected Clarcton to be so plain. As a girl, I used to dream about escaping the swamp, imagining a world beyond my responsibilities—a world full of beauty and freedom. But standing in the little village’s town square, those daydreams evaporated like morning mist.

Stover, the tiniest town in Clarcton, was quaint and small, with cobblestone streets and wooden cottages that seemed to lean on each other for support. The townspeople moved with the kind of slow, deliberate pace that comes from a life untroubled by haste. Their eyes lingered on me, and I could feel their curiosity as they assessed the stranger in their midst. I stood out just by being different, my scars a map of battles they couldn’t fathom.

Through a day of shopping, I learned that Stover rarely saw travelers. The elves invading the northern tip had made the locals wary, and I could hear their whispers about my scars. Ignoring them wasn’t easy, but I’d be gone tomorrow. The market was a small square, stalls offering modest wares—fresh produce, simple cloth, handcrafted trinkets. Each vendor seemed to eye me with a mix of suspicion and pity.

Northorn still held strong, its capital unfallen. King Edward had called for aid from Whopping, a fishing town on the east coast. The wolves of Viridi Gramine had decided not to help the humans, heading instead to Bangtan to protect their princess. Hearing the townsfolk speak ill of Hyuna made my stomach churn. These people were ignorant, jumping to conclusions like humans always did since the Sarkans first landed in Lustra.

Starving, I dropped off my supplies and set out for food. Hannah, a kind woman who ran the inn, had pointed me to a tavern that promised a decent meal. However, I was low on money and too frightened to barter. Drawing attention could be dangerous, especially after hearing rumors of elves in town. I’d hidden in shops, body tense, the sight of white hair sending chills down my spine.

Elves all looked the same—pale, white-haired, with amethyst eyes. This party had no women, and when I asked the tailor, he explained that their kind had a queendom where men were lesser beings. These elves were young and inexperienced, sent to weaken before the real conquerors arrived. The tailor believed Lustra would fall when the second wave came.

The tavern buzzed with an overwhelming clamor. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of ale and sweat, and it was clear that I was the only human present. The elves, their pale faces flushed with drink, were loud and rowdy, their laughter grating on my ears. Ale sloshed over the edges of their mugs, splattering the wooden floor. Keeping my head down, I approached the bar and ordered soup and ale, deciding it was safer to stay than to risk attracting attention by leaving too soon.

Finding a corner table, I settled in, hoping to blend into the shadows. The warmth of the tavern was a stark contrast to the chill outside, but it did little to soothe my nerves. As I waited for my meal, snippets of conversation drifted to me. The elves boasted of their exploits, their voices dripping with arrogance. They spoke of battles and conquests, their laughter tinged with cruelty. Each word stoked the fire of my hatred, but I kept my face impassive, my gaze fixed on the table in front of me.

When the tavern maid brought my soup and ale, I thanked her quietly, avoiding eye contact. The soup was hearty, its warmth spreading through my body with each spoonful. The ale, though bitter, helped to steady my nerves. I ate slowly, trying to make the meal last as long as possible.

As I ate, a group of elves at a nearby table grew louder, their taunts more pointed. They spoke about the humans they had encountered, their words laced with contempt. One of them, a particularly burly elf with a scar running down his cheek, caught my eye and sneered. “Look at that one,” he said loudly, gesturing towards me. “Thinks she can hide among us.”

The others laughed, and I forced myself to remain calm, taking another sip of my ale. The burly elf stood, his steps unsteady, and made his way over to my table. “What’s your name, human?” he demanded, leaning in close, the stench of alcohol on his breath.

I looked up, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as I could muster. “None of your business,” I replied evenly.

His sneer widened, and he reached out, grabbing my arm. “Feisty one, aren’t you? I like that.” He pulled me to my feet, and I could feel the eyes of the entire tavern on us. The room had fallen silent, the tension palpable.

The elf’s grip tightened, and I winced, but refused to show fear. “Let go of me,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Or what?” he taunted, pulling me closer. “You’ll make me?”

Before I could react, a flash of movement caught my eye. Another elf, smaller and quicker, appeared beside the burly one. “Enough, Dalion,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Leave her be.”

Dalion hesitated, his grip loosening slightly. “Why? She’s just a human.”

“Because I said so,” the other elf replied, his tone brooking no argument. “We don’t need any more trouble.”

With a grunt, Dalion released me, shoving me back into my chair. “Fine,” he muttered, glaring at me one last time before returning to his table. The smaller elf gave me a brief nod before following.

I took a shaky breath, my heart pounding. The tavern slowly returned to its previous state, the noise level rising once more. I finished my meal quickly, eager to leave and find some semblance of safety. As I paid for my food, I noticed the smaller elf watching me, his expression unreadable. I decided to go to the bar and finish my night there.

At the bar, a hooded figure sipped clear liquor, the sharp smell cutting through the tavern's haze. The bartender, his eyes darting between me and the elves, asked where I was from.

"Leeside," I lied, knowing he saw through it but didn’t call me out. He knew my destination and that Leeside was big enough to hide in. "Just passing through."

He nodded, wiping the bar. The elves were bothering a drunk old man for money, out of coins and still thirsty.

"Heard about Azamar?" the bartender asked.

I nodded, taking a bite. "Hot. Too bad, I’ve heard it’s nice this time of year."

The hooded figure shifted, drawing my instinctive gaze. Her teeth were too large, canines sharp, and one incisor framed in gold—a mark of an assassin from Whopping, according to Hoseok.

"The plains are worse," she said, her voice rough but feminine. "Hard to see anything if you go that far south."

"The northern tip isn’t too bad," I replied without thinking. "I came in through that way."

"Interesting."

She knew I was lying. Keeping my fear in check, I ate. The bartender offered another bowl on the house, which I accepted, knowing hot meals would be scarce. The elves grew louder, and I wanted to leave. Tomorrow, I’d memorize the maps Sam packed.

"Hey! You!"

I closed my eyes, feeling their gaze. They spoke a bastardized Lustrian, discussing my potential in bed and survival odds. I resisted the urge to respond, knowing a fight would expose me. Humans feared magic, as Aldara always said.

"Girl," another elf slurred, "give me some money. I need another drink."

The bartender, catching on, turned his back. I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He knew I understood them. I was obviously not an elf, so the options were shifter or witch—either one could spell trouble if the bartender exposed me out of ignorance.

"I’m talking to you, bicce."

My eye twitched. The bartender noticed, realization dawning. He turned away, leaving me to fend for myself.

Fortunately, he didn't look disgusted by me. His face remained remarkably neutral as he returned with a refill. He carefully placed a napkin on the bar before setting down the glass. I glanced at him, then at the woman out of the corner of my eye. She was tense, her head inclined towards me, her eyes hidden but clearly watching me as closely as the elves were. They were louder now, frustrated by my lack of response. I picked up my glass and read the smudged writing on the napkin.

"I'm Vern."

I took a sip, nodding, keeping my face impassive. Quietly, I ordered another drink, placing a copper coin on the bar, and pointed at the group with my thumb. I didn’t care what they wanted, but I hoped Vern wouldn’t provoke them. With great care, I picked up the napkin.

Crumpling it in my hand, I muttered under my breath, wiping it against my lips before placing it back on the bar. I went back to eating. Vern brought the elf his drink, and their angry taunts stopped. The one who called me a bitch thanked me in a condescending tone. I wanted to tear him apart, but instead, I drank my ale and ate my vegetable soup.

Vern came back, picking up my napkin and walking over to the trash can behind the bar. The traveler next to me was still staring, and I knew she knew what had happened. They both had their secrets. She stayed hidden beneath her cloak, while Vern saw too much. Both of them were searching for something, but I couldn’t tell you what. I did know, however, that lying would only make me look worse. I had given him my first name and hoped that would satisfy his curiosity.

Another napkin appeared in front of me. Vern was wiping down glasses, back turned, and I was sure no one except the three of us understood what was going on. I glanced down.

"Moland. Etta Ketchens’ son."

So, there was another witch around. Moland was the original land of magic. All witches alive today descended from those who first discovered it in the swamps. Bangtan stole the title after witches began making deals with the ielfen. Their world was linked to the spirit realm, and the monsters that lived there were difficult to manage, so they sent them to the forests. The witches were strong enough to keep them away, but the creatures found refuge in Bangtan.

Anyone from Moland had magic, and I had heard of Etta from Thelma. She was from the northeast. I had never met her, but she was known for playing music and throwing great parties. Trusting Vern became easier. We were in the same boat, and witches liked to stick together. At the very least, I knew I had backup if it came down to a fight.

"Bangtan. Thelma Richard’s niece."

He nodded, his eyes wandering to the woman at the end of the bar. She hadn’t taken her eyes off us since the written exchange began. Her eyes seemed to glow within the darkness that surrounded her face, boring into me, waiting for something. Feeling exposed, I stood. It was time to leave. I had done what I came here to do, and the elves were starting to badger people for money again.

Vern shook his head and glanced down at my seat, giving me pause. Gaze turning to the woman, she shrugged and shook her head in agreement. I had no reason to trust either of them, but I had a feeling in my gut. Even if we wouldn’t normally help each other, right now, we had a common enemy. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Aldara would say I should listen before reacting. So, when the woman offered to buy me another drink, I sat back down.

“They’re planning on following you home,” Vern murmured, placing a glass in front of me.

“How do you know that?”

“I’m gifted. You could say I specialize in mind magic.”

Stiffening, I eyed him with new wariness. That’s how he knew I was lying; he could hear my thoughts. Vern nodded, answering my unasked question.

“I’m not concentrating on you,” he clarified. “I’m trying to watch them. I’m just picking up bits and pieces of everyone else. She’s—” He looked at the woman, “—not human either. She’s trying to decide if she should accompany you. You’re both going east.”

The elves were back to insulting me for another drink. I gritted my teeth, my anger and frustration bubbling over. I’d always been a hothead, but my emotions felt so volatile now. I hated them. I hated everything they stood for. Cordelia’s dead body flashed in my mind, and Vern couldn’t hide the horror on his face.

“Bicce!”

Beside me, the woman turned her attention to the elves.

“Don’t speak to her like that,” she growled.

Their group stopped their taunts, a thick, tense silence falling over the bar. Tensing, I prepared to defend her. She didn’t need to take up for me, but my hatred made the decision easy. I wanted to kill them all.

The elf scoffed in disbelief. Vern’s eyes widened in horror, and he reached out towards the hooded woman. I knew what was coming, and instead of waiting, I took action.

I’d always been a loose cannon, but these last few days had made me feel more unhinged than ever. Anger, sorrow, and hatred coiled tightly in my stomach, driving me insane. The nightmares. The heartache. Yoongi’s blank stare. Cordelia’s lifeless body in the flames. Jimin’s anguish. Sol’s betrayal. All of it consumed me, and for once, I didn’t try to stomp the flames out.

“Swígan!” I shouted, turning to face the elves. I had reached my limit. Knowing I had at least one other witch on my side, I felt emboldened. “Mieltan.”

The iron ring on my finger melted, searing my skin, but I hardly registered the burn. I shot the melted iron like a rocket, stabbing the elf who disrespected me through the chest. Dalion couldn’t scream. When I retracted the metal, there was a hole so large I could see through his body. The other three stared, mouths agape, before turning on me. The dead one fell to the floor with a thud.

The remaining elves rushed at me, their movements fluid and unnervingly synchronized. I didn’t hesitate. The iron ring, now a molten band around my finger, reshaped itself into a thin, sharp blade. I slashed at the closest elf, the blade slicing clean through his raised arm. Blue blood sprayed, and his scream was a piercing wail.

I spun, my instincts sharpened by adrenaline, and kicked another elf, the one who had defended me earlier, square in the chest, sending him crashing into a table. Wood splintered under his weight, and the patrons near him scrambled to get away. The third elf tried to grab me from behind, but I twisted, using the momentum to elbow him hard in the face. His nose crunched, blood spurting as he staggered back, clutching his face.

The elf with the severed arm was still screaming, trying to cast a spell with his remaining hand. I didn’t give him the chance. I lunged, driving the blade into his throat. His eyes widened, a gurgle escaping as he collapsed.

The elf I had kicked was back on his feet, rage contorting his features. He muttered an incantation, and I felt a wave of energy pulse towards me. Instinctively, I threw up a shield, the air crackling with the force of our opposing magics. My shield held, but I could feel the strain. I couldn’t let him overpower me. With a snarl, I pushed back, my magic flaring, and the shield exploded outward, knocking him off his feet.

Vern had been right about the woman. She was a shifter, and now her cloak had fallen away, revealing her true form. She was massive, her muscles rippling under her skin and a pair of black ears poked through her long, black hair. She let out a roar, leaping into the fray with a ferocity that matched my own. She tackled the elf who had been behind me, her nails elongating into claws that raked across his chest. He shrieked, trying to fend her off, but she was relentless, tearing into him with a savage precision.

The elf I had knocked down was getting back up, and I moved to intercept him. He cast another spell, a bolt of energy shooting towards me. I dodged, the bolt sizzling past my ear and scorching the wall behind me. I retaliated with a burst of fire, the flames engulfing him. He screamed, thrashing as the fire consumed him, and then he was silent, his charred body crumpling to the floor.

The last elf was still alive, barely. He was pinned under the woman, her claws at his throat. He looked up at me, eyes wide with fear. I walked over, the molten blade in my hand dripping with blue blood. I knelt down, meeting his gaze.

“You should have left me alone,” I said softly, before driving the blade into his heart.

The bar was silent now, the only sounds the crackling of the flames and the labored breathing of the survivors. The humans who were coherent enough to watch the altercation fled the bar screaming while the others were too drunk to care. I still had energy to burn, shaking with the force of my emotions. Too quickly. I wanted more time with them. I wanted to kill them again and again. I wanted to earn their hatred. I wanted—

“What’s your name?”

I looked at the hooded woman. Her face was covered in blood, and she smiled crookedly. She had deep, pitted dimples, and pieces of jewelry shone inside them.

"Y/N," I replied, keeping my voice steady.

"Lily," she said, giving me a small bow before standing up. Her muscles bulged and twitched with each movement, almost as tall as Jimin. Her hands were adorned with intricate tattoos, and her nails were a vivid ruby red. "Would you mind some company during your travels?"

"Do you know your way through Ozryn?" I asked, eyeing her warily.

She nodded. "I'm from Idris. I'm meeting some friends in the mountains."

Despite my earlier reluctance, this woman might be my only option for crossing the mountains safely. Assassin or not, she was offering her services, and my violent display earlier should deter any funny business. She might beat me in a physical fight, but I had magic on my side, fueled by enough emotional turmoil to last a lifetime. The fact that we were both shifters aided in my trust. We were both wanted citizens if the elves had anything to say about it, and her exposing herself made it hard to justify turning her away.

“You’re obviously a shifter,” I said, placing my remaining coins on the bar. Vern deserved the tip. He'd been an excellent server. "What are you?"

"Maned Wolf," she answered, already walking toward the bar exit. That meant she was half-wolf, half-fox. It would not surprise me if she was the last of her kind. "We should leave. Those humans have alerted the local police about your little... situation."

I looked at Vern, who was quick to agree with Lily’s plan. He would cover for us. Thanking him, I followed the huge woman out of the bar. She hadn't really answered my question, but given the circumstances, I let it slide. I had just murdered four people in a bar. I should have felt more shame, but I couldn't muster any. They killed Cordelia. They deserved it.

“We can collect your belongings from the inn and leave. Okay?”

I agreed. We moved quickly. No one was at the front desk when I entered, making sneaking upstairs a cakewalk. I threw my bag over my shoulder and grabbed the few personal items I had lying around. A deep sadness settled into my chest as I thought back to the fight. I hated flashbacks, but I was starting to realize there was something I disliked even more: myself.

I should have just left and minded my own business. That’s what Jimin would have done. A fight would be a last resort. Instead, I acted a fool for someone I didn’t even know, a woman whose face I couldn’t pick out in a lineup, who could easily have turned her back on me the moment I killed the first man. I didn’t stop to consider that someone else might have abandoned me back there. I was so used to being surrounded by people who loved me that hindsight was 20/20. This time, I had simply gotten lucky. If it had been anyone other than an elf I killed, they would have been disgusted by me. Hell, I felt disgusted by my actions.

Cordelia wouldn’t have been able to look me in the eye after a stunt like that.

Shaking myself out of my daze, I rushed back downstairs. Hannah was at the desk now, and three men wearing navy blue uniforms were crowding her. Quickly, I stopped and kept myself hidden in the shadows, body pressed against the wall as I listened in. They hadn’t heard my footsteps. Human ears were very weak.

“I told you I don’t have any witches staying here,” the human girl barked, clearly fed up with their interrogation. “The old man must have been confused. Vernon even said he was being ridiculous. Those elves were nowhere near the tavern.”

“Well, we can’t find them anywhere else, and it wasn’t just John. Betsy said she saw it happen as well.”

“Betsy?” Hannah drawled, placing her hands on her hips. “So you have a drunk and a schizophrenic's testimony? Have to say, Charles, I expected more from you.”

“Now Ms. Winslow—” one of the men attempted to speak, but Hannah flashed him a dark look. He quieted quickly.

“No,” she spoke in a bored, cold tone that reminded me of Yoongi. They even had the same unimpressed, irritated look. “The three of you came barging in here in the middle of the night, ranting and raving about a witch on the loose who, by the way, according to my records, does not exist. I don’t know where any of you got off waking me and my father at a time like this, but he’s far too sick to be dealing with this mess. So, either tell me a name I can work with or get the hell out. Your choice.”

I was impressed with the girl. She had to have known who they were searching for. I had suddenly popped up, and now you have four elves dead in a bar? Too coincidental. Still, she was covering for me, and I was grateful. It was a shame I was out of money.

“Sorry for your troubles, Hannah,” the man in the middle said, tipping his hat. “Hope Maurice feels better soon. We’ll go and ask Martha and Dawn about it. You could be right about the two kooks.”

I didn’t like the way they talked about John or Betsy. They might have been a bit odd, but they were not liars. I hoped their words wouldn’t get them into any trouble, at least not on my behalf. I’d much rather get arrested and escape than let anyone else get locked up. The policemen left, the wooden door slamming behind them.

“You can come out now.”

Walking the rest of the way down, I hoped my face conveyed how sorry I felt. I didn’t want anyone else inconvenienced because of me. Hannah, however, looked very happy. With a big smile, she greeted me. Lily crawled out from under the desk, hood still securely on, and patted the other girl’s head.

"Congratulations on winning your fight," the human drawled, dark hair tousled from just waking up.

"It's not something worth celebrating," I replied, handing my sack over to Lily when she held out her hand for it. "Thank you," I told the massive woman.

"You need a coat," the traveler demanded, her voice brooking no argument. "It's cold."

Opening my bag, she started digging around before finally landing on the cloak I bought this morning. It was heavy, lined in white fur, and beautifully handcrafted. The most expensive thing I bought next to the boots I was wearing. The outside of it had a beautiful ornate flower pattern spun in a delicate silver color, almost perfectly matching the shade of Jimin’s hair.

"This is nice," Lily commented absentmindedly, handing over the cloak. "Good purchase."

I tied it around my shoulders and charmed it like the rest of my clothes. Taking things on and off would take too much time in an emergency. Lily slung my bag over her shoulder like it weighed nothing, and I was glad to be rid of it. Flying would be easier without the annoyance of straps.

Then it hit me. I couldn't fly as quickly as I normally did. If I had a wolf hybrid traveling with me, I would need to travel in the only way she could. On foot. It was almost enough to make me second-guess bringing her along. Alas, I needed the extra hands, and a guide who knew the area was too good of a resource to flush down the drain. Traveling would take longer, but I would have a better chance at living through this.

"The best elves are the dead ones," Hannah yawned. "You should get going. They’re going to be looking for you all night. Vern cleaned up the mess already, so don’t worry about it. He sends his love."

I nodded. "Tell him if he wants to go back to Moland anytime soon, to stay east and travel down the Syrena River. Most of the witches are in Foxglove now. You both could find some protection there."

She smiled at me. "When my father is well enough for the journey, I’m positive that fool will be taking the two of us with him."

There was no mistaking the affection in her voice.

"You two…" I trailed off. "He loves you."

Thinking back to the moment she was brought up, I had not noticed the same tenderness in Vern’s voice. However, the fact that he had spoken to her about me in such great detail pointed to some sort of relationship. It being a romantic one made me unreasonably happy. They were both friends of mine, even if they did not see me in the same light. I was happy they were together. Witches and humans were not a typical pairing, but I could say the same about my own situation.

"Almost as much as I love him," she winked.

"We need to go," Lily gruffed, grabbing my arm. "I can hear them making their way back towards the inn," she frowned at Hannah. "They’re going to bother you for a little while. Sorry about the trouble."

"Like I said," she huffed, "You did everyone a favor. I don’t want to hear another word about it."

"Thank you," I told her. "For everything. Vern too."

"Go," she replied, shooing us away with her hands. "Go around the back. There’s a small nature reserve that stretches on for a few miles. Keep north before heading east. That should take you to Azamar Pass, but stay close to the volcano. They have encampments everywhere."

Azamar Pass was a small stretch of land connecting Lustra to the island where the Ula’re volcano rested. A large bridge connected it to Northorn and another to the land before the Ozryn mountains. It was likely the safest place for us to travel through despite the treacherous terrain. According to my maps, it was filled with hills and jagged cliffs that could kill you easily. Lily seemed confident enough, so I decided to follow her. She knew this place better than I ever did.

"I know the area well," Lily assured the girl. "We will be safe."

I had to trust she was telling the truth.

We slipped out the back, the night air biting through the fur-lined cloak. The reserve Hannah mentioned was darker than I expected, the thick canopy of trees blotting out the moonlight. We moved quickly, our breath fogging in the cold air. Lily led the way, her steps confident despite the uneven ground. I followed closely, every crunch of leaves underfoot setting my nerves on edge.

The silence between us stretched, only the sounds of our hurried steps and the occasional rustle of wildlife breaking it. My mind raced, replaying the events of the night. I had always been a hothead, but tonight felt different. It wasn't just anger that drove me, but a deeper, more consuming fury. Cordelia’s death had changed something in me, twisted a part of my soul that I wasn’t sure I could ever untangle.

"Are you alright?" Lily’s voice broke through my thoughts. She had stopped and was looking back at me, her eyes sharp even in the dim light.

"Yeah," I lied, not trusting myself to say more.

She studied me for a moment, then nodded. "We’re almost there. Azamar Pass is just beyond these woods."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. We continued on, the terrain growing steeper as we neared the pass. The ground beneath our feet turned rocky, the air heavy with the scent of sulfur. The volcano loomed in the distance, a dark silhouette against the night sky.

We reached the edge of the reserve and paused, taking in the sight before us. The pass was a narrow strip of land, flanked by jagged cliffs and treacherous drops. It was more daunting in person than it had seemed on my maps.

"Stay close," Lily warned, her voice low. "The winds can be brutal up here, and the paths are narrow."

We started across, the wind immediately whipping at our clothes and hair. I pulled my cloak tighter around me, every step a fight against the elements. Lily moved with the grace of someone who had done this a hundred times before, her large frame somehow slipping through the narrowest of paths with ease.

Halfway across, the ground trembled beneath our feet, a low rumble emanating from the volcano. I froze, fear clutching at my heart. Lily glanced back, her expression unreadable.

"Keep moving," she urged. "It’s just a tremor."

I forced myself to keep going, each step feeling like an eternity. The path seemed to go on forever, the cliffs on either side closing in like the jaws of some great beast. By the time we reached the other side, my legs were shaking and my lungs burned from the effort.

We collapsed on the ground, the safety of solid land a welcome relief. Lily pulled out a canteen and handed it to me. I took a grateful sip, the water cool and refreshing.

"Thank you," I said, my voice hoarse.

She nodded, wiping sweat from her brow. "We need to keep moving. There’s a cave not far from here where we can rest for the night."

We got to our feet and continued on, the landscape gradually shifting from rocky terrain to dense forest once more. The trees grew thicker, their branches intertwining overhead to form a natural canopy that blocked out most of the sky. The sounds of the forest began to surround us—the rustle of leaves, the distant calls of nocturnal creatures, and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot. The path ahead was narrow and winding, forcing us to move in single file, with Lily leading the way.

After what felt like hours, the cave Lily had mentioned came into view, a dark, yawning mouth in the side of a moss-covered hill. The entrance was partially hidden by overgrown vines and thick underbrush, making it almost invisible to the casual observer. We ducked inside, and the temperature dropped noticeably, the cool, damp air enveloping us like a shroud. The cave was surprisingly spacious, with a high ceiling that echoed our footsteps as we ventured further in.

Lily set down my bag and immediately began gathering kindling for a fire, her movements quick and efficient. I watched her as she worked, unable to shake the feeling that there was something otherworldly about her. Despite her petite frame, she moved with a precision and grace that spoke of years spent surviving in the wild. Her hands were steady and sure as she arranged the twigs and branches, and within minutes, she had a small fire crackling to life.

As the flames grew, casting flickering shadows on the cave walls, I couldn't help but study her more closely. Her face, illuminated by the firelight, seemed both young and ancient, with eyes that held secrets I couldn't begin to fathom. There was a quiet strength in her, a resilience that I envied.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked finally, breaking the silence that had settled between us.

She paused, looking up from her task, her eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made me shiver. "Because you need it," she said simply. "And because I’ve been where you are."

I frowned, not understanding. "Where I am?"

She nodded, her expression softening. "Lost. Angry. Searching for something you can’t quite name."

Her words hit closer to home than I cared to admit. I looked away, the weight of the night's events pressing down on me once more. The memories of the fire, the screams, and the feeling of helplessness washed over me, and I had to fight to keep my composure.

"You don’t have to do this alone," she continued, her voice gentle but firm. "Whatever it is you’re searching for, it’s out there. But you won’t find it by tearing yourself apart."

I didn’t know what to say, the truth of her words cutting through my defenses. For the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps there was a way forward that didn’t involve self-destruction.

"Get some rest," she said, her tone softening even further. "We have a long journey ahead of us."

I nodded, lying down on the cool ground, using my bag as a makeshift pillow. The fire's warmth was comforting, and the sound of the crackling flames was soothing. As I closed my eyes, exhaustion finally overtaking me, I couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't as alone as I thought.

I couldn't see past the smoke. It was a roiling, black mass, punctuated by brilliant yellow flames that danced like demons in the night. Shiloh's voice cut through the chaos, a desperate cry reaching out through the suffocating darkness, pleading for me to return. Inside, the screams were a cacophony of terror and anguish, and I ran, my small feet pounding the earth as I shouted for Auntie. Shiloh's cries grew louder behind me, but I ignored her, driven by a singular need to reach the cottage. I had to get to Aldara.

The distance stretched endlessly, the screams crescendoed, and Shiloh's voice became an unbearable buzz in my ears. I was sobbing, calling Aldara's name, feeling the forest around me weep. The spirits that had once tormented me now seemed my only solace, and I crumpled to the ground. No matter how desperately I tried, the cottage remained out of reach. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw it—a movement that made my breath catch.

There it was, not even ten yards away—a large, midnight-black wolf with eyes like burning coals. The firelight cast a grotesque glow on its face, revealing a blood-stained muzzle. In its mouth was an arm, the ring on it gleaming malevolently. Anger surged within me, turning my vision red as I focused on the ring—a skull etched in fiery orange and yellow. Before I could stop myself, I was chanting a spell, my voice echoing through the forest. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled in response.

The wolf dropped the arm and snarled, its eyes locked on mine. The air crackled with energy, the spell building inside me, threatening to tear me apart from the inside out. The wolf lunged, and I screamed, the spell bursting forth in a torrent of raw power. The ground shook, the trees groaned, and the wolf was thrown back, its body slamming into a tree with a sickening crunch.

I collapsed, the spell having drained every ounce of strength from my body. The forest fell silent, the only sound my ragged breathing. I crawled towards the cottage, my limbs trembling, my vision swimming. The smoke began to clear, and I could see the outline of the cottage through the haze.

Aldara lay on the ground, her body limp, her face pale. I reached her side, my hands shaking as I tried to rouse her. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me, a weak smile playing on her lips.

"You did it," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling flames. "You saved us."

I nodded, tears streaming down my face. The forest had fallen silent, the spirits watching us with a newfound respect. I had faced the darkness and emerged victorious, but at what cost?

As the first light of dawn broke through the trees, I held Aldara close, the weight of the night's events settling on my shoulders. The forest might have been our home, but it was also a place of danger and despair. And I knew, deep down, that this was only the beginning.

But then everything started to change. The flames flickered and became stars in a velvet sky. The trees twisted and turned, transforming into towering figures that whispered secrets in a language I couldn’t understand. Shiloh's voice turned into a soft lullaby, and the ground beneath me felt like the softest bed I had ever known.

Aldara’s form began to shimmer and fade, her features blurring as if she were being drawn away by an unseen hand. "You must go," she said, her voice echoing like a distant melody. "This world is not for you."

I tried to hold on to her, but my hands passed through her like smoke. The stars above began to swirl, forming a spiral that pulled me upwards, away from the forest, away from the cottage. I was weightless, floating, the screams and flames and shadows all fading into a soft, gentle darkness.

I awoke with a start, the remnants of the dream slipping away like shadows at dawn. The morning light streamed through the cave entrance, illuminating the damp stone walls and casting eerie shapes that danced in the corners of my vision. I lay there, struggling to piece together the fragments of a nightmare that felt all too real. But no matter how hard I tried, the details eluded me, leaving only a lingering sense of unease and the whisper of a name.

"You okay?" Lily's voice broke through the fog, soft yet insistent. I blinked, shaking off the last vestiges of the dream. The cool, damp air of the cave was a grounding contrast to the surreal horrors still echoing in my mind.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice hoarse. "Just a bad dream."

Lily studied me, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she could see through my flimsy facade. But she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she handed me a piece of bread and some dried fruit, which I accepted gratefully.

"We should get moving soon," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "The sooner we leave, the better our chances of staying ahead."

I nodded, chewing slowly as my thoughts lingered on the dream, the name echoing like a distant drumbeat in my mind.

We packed up quickly, the remnants of the fire reduced to ashes that Lily expertly scattered with her foot. Outside, the forest was waking up, the early morning light filtering through the leaves and casting a soft, golden glow on everything. Birds chirped, and small creatures rustled in the underbrush, weaving a tapestry of normalcy that stood in stark contrast to the turmoil roiling inside me.

As we began to walk, the path ahead seemed clearer, more defined. It was as if the forest itself was guiding us, the trees parting just enough to show the way. I fell into step behind Lily, my thoughts drifting back to her words from the night before: lost, angry, searching for something you can't quite name.

"Can I ask you something?" I ventured after a while, breaking the silence.

"Sure," Lily replied, not turning around, her attention focused on the path ahead.

"Why are you going east?"

She hesitated, tension knotting in her shoulders. "I’m trying to find my daughter," she said finally, her voice low. "We got separated when the incursion started up north. I have some friends in Ozryn who might know where to find her."

"I'm sorry," I said, not knowing what else to offer. The weight of loss was something I understood all too well. “I hope she’s alright.”

"I’m sure she is," Lily continued, her voice softening. "I don’t like being away from her, but I know she can take care of herself. I’m just being cautious with the elves in the area."

“I’ll help you find her,” I promised, a sudden surge of determination filling me. “Once I’ve done what I came here to do.”

Lily chuckled, a sound tinged with both gratitude and disbelief. “Thanks, kid. But I don’t think we’ll need your help. Tinka can’t hide from me.”

“But I’m indebted to you,” I insisted. “It’s the least I can do.”

“You’re assisting me during my journey. You don’t have a debt as long as you do that magic thing and slice and dice whatever gets in our way.”

We walked in silence for a while, the forest around us providing a comforting backdrop to our shared grief. There was something about being in nature that made the pain more bearable, as if the trees and the earth could absorb some of the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm us.

After a few hours, we reached a clearing with a small stream gurgling through it. The water was crystal clear, the gentle sound of it flowing over the rocks soothing my frayed nerves. We stopped to rest, filling our water bottles, the cool water a welcome relief against the weight of our thoughts. 

As I splashed some on my face, the chill sent a jolt of clarity through me, a reminder that life continued to flow, regardless of the chaos that swirled around us. And for a brief moment, I felt the edges of my turmoil soften, blending into the rhythm of the world around us.

As we sat by the stream, the water rushing over smooth stones like whispered secrets, Lily reached into her pack and pulled out a small, leather-bound book. She began writing in it with a pen unlike any I had ever seen—a sharp blade at the end, glimmering as it danced across the page without needing a drop of ink. 

“Why are you going to the mountains?” she asked, her voice carrying an edge of curiosity.

“I’m looking for someone,” I replied, staring at the water’s surface, its reflections shifting like memories just out of reach. “Someone important to me said I needed to find her.”

“Let me guess,” Lily sighed, her tone a blend of weariness and knowing. “Naida?”

“How did you…?” 

“She’s the only thing out there worth hunting down,” the hybrid drawled, pulling her hood down to reveal ears the color of rust, tipped in black, and hair that cascaded like ink down her shoulders. “Must be needing Khione. Do you know what for?”

I cleared my throat, the words heavy with significance. “I’m trying to get extra help in the south. I was told they might be able to assist us.”

Lily laughed, but it was a humorless sound, tinged with bitterness. “Naida might. Khione? I doubt it. That old bitch doesn’t do anything except fuck the little whores she keeps in her castle while my friends starve in those mountains.”

I stared at her, taken aback by the rawness of her words, the pain wrapped around them like a vine. “That’s quite a reputation she has.”

Lily’s expression hardened, the air thickening with her disdain. “Reputation? It’s the truth. Khione has power, sure, but it comes with a price. She doesn’t help anyone unless there’s something in it for her. If you’re seeking aid, you’d better be prepared to pay dearly for it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach.

Lily leaned back against a tree, her gaze drifting to the rushing water, as if searching for answers in its depths. “She’s got a knack for making deals that trap you. You think you’re getting help, but it’s usually a trap. You could end up worse off than before.”

I let her words sink in, the implications wrapping around my mind like a cold fog. “So, what do you suggest? Just forget about it?”

“No,” she said, her voice firm, slicing through my doubts. “I’m just saying to be cautious. If you really think Naida can help, go to her. But if Khione is involved… just be ready for anything.”

“What do you know about Naida?” I pressed, desperate for any insight that might illuminate my path.

“She’s a force to be reckoned with,” Lily replied, her tone shifting slightly, like the wind before a storm. “A protector of the mountains, they say. If anyone can help us, it might be her. But she’s not easily found, and even harder to convince. You’ll need to prove yourself worthy of her time.”

I nodded, determination battling with trepidation in my chest. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Lily studied me for a moment, her expression softening. “I believe you. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. We’ll figure it out together.”

“Together,” I echoed, warmth spreading through me at the reassurance. It was comforting to know I had someone by my side who understood the stakes.

We resumed our journey, the path growing steeper as we ventured deeper into the forest. The sun climbed higher, casting dappled shadows on the ground, and the air was thick with the scent of pine and earth—invigorating yet heavy with the weight of our conversations.

As we navigated the terrain, our topic shifted to lighter matters, and I found myself laughing at Lily’s sarcastic quips about the creatures of the forest. Her spirit was contagious, and the laughter felt good, a welcome reprieve from the tension that had settled in my bones.

Eventually, we reached a vantage point overlooking a vast expanse of mountains in the distance. The peaks were shrouded in mist, an ethereal quality lending them an almost otherworldly presence. I could almost feel the pull of Khione’s castle lurking somewhere among them, a siren’s call promising both danger and salvation—a promise that felt too heavy to bear.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, creeping shadows across the ground, we stumbled upon another cave. This one was smaller, cozier, and had a natural chimney that promised to keep the night’s chill at bay. The entrance was framed by thick vines and moss, giving it an almost hidden quality, like a secret the forest had kept for itself. As we stepped inside, the air was cool and damp, a welcome relief from the heat of the day, and soon we had a fire crackling to life, its flickering light casting playful shadows against the damp stone walls.

Settled by the fire, I pulled out the remnants of our meager supplies while Lily rummaged through her pack. The warmth enveloped us, creating an intimate cocoon as we prepared a simple meal from what little we had left. The aroma of the dried meat she had brought wafted into the air, mixing with the earthy scent of the cave.

“You’re a vegetarian?” Lily laughed, a sound rich with amusement that echoed around us, almost like a melody bouncing off the walls.

“Yes. Do you have any nuts?” I replied, attempting to keep my tone casual despite the slight twist of discomfort in my stomach at the thought of what she might offer.

Lily shook her head, still chuckling. “That won’t keep you healthy, little one. Have some rabbit. I killed it yesterday.” 

Her words hung in the air like a challenge. I recoiled as she brought the dried meat closer, the odor hitting me like a wave of something unpleasant—savage and primal. “Ugh,” I flinched away, my face contorting in distaste.

Her laughter deepened, a hearty sound that seemed to vibrate within the cave’s very stones. “Don’t make that face,” she teased, her voice rich with mirth. “I have a pack of nuts and mushrooms in my bag.”

I caught the bag she tossed my way, the soft thud of it landing in my hands almost comforting. “Thanks,” I said, rifling through the contents. “You know, not everyone can be a barbarian like you.”

“Barbarian?” she replied, raising an eyebrow, a smirk dancing on her lips. “Just because I prefer my meals with a bit more substance doesn’t make me a barbarian.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” I replied, rolling my eyes as I munched on a handful of nuts, their earthy taste grounding me. “But seriously, rabbit? Did you have to?”

Lily chuckled again, the firelight illuminating her features with a warm glow, casting playful shadows on her face. “You’re too soft. A little meat might toughen you up.”

“I’m plenty tough,” I shot back, more defensively than I intended. “I just don’t see the need to eat something that was hopping around yesterday.”

“Oh, I see. You’re a sensitive soul, aren’t you?” Her sarcasm dripped like honey, thick and sweet, teasing at my vulnerabilities.

“Just practical,” I countered, crossing my arms as I met her gaze. “I like my food to be, you know, not staring at me with big, sad eyes.”

Lily laughed again, a rich, genuine sound that resonated off the cave walls. “You’re a riot. Alright, sensitive soul, eat your nuts. I’ll enjoy my rabbit.” She leaned back against the cave wall, her posture relaxed yet ready.

I shook my head, unable to suppress a smile. “One day, you’ll see the benefits of a vegetarian diet.”

“Doubtful,” she said, a playful challenge in her eyes. “But hey, I’ll give you this—you’ve got guts. I like that.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I replied, feeling an unexpected sense of camaraderie despite our bickering. “I could say the same about you.”

“Oh, you’re just full of compliments tonight,” she quipped, mock bowing as if accepting an award. “What did I do to deserve such praise?”

I laughed, the tension of the day easing like the fire’s warmth. “Just being you, I suppose.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” she said, though her eyes sparkled with warmth, a glimmer of something deeper beneath the surface. For a fleeting moment, it felt like we were both trying to shield ourselves from the weight of the world outside, a world filled with uncertainty and danger.

We settled into a comfortable silence, the crackling fire providing a soothing backdrop to our thoughts. Despite the teasing, there was an ease between us, a shared understanding that felt almost sacred in the dim light of the cave. She reminded me of a blend of Cordelia and Thelma—strong yet nurturing, the kind of ally you wished for in times of darkness. 

As I lay down to sleep, the flickering flames began to blur into shadows, and a sense of peace washed over me—something I hadn’t felt in far too long. The nightmare from the night before felt like a distant echo, a whisper that faded with the growing warmth of the fire. I found comfort in the knowledge that whatever challenges awaited, I wouldn’t have to face them alone.

I glanced at Lily, illuminated by the firelight, her features softening as she lost herself in thought. There was a hint of sorrow in the lines around her mouth, a weathered quality I hadn’t fully appreciated until this moment. Her eyes were distant, reflecting something that felt ancient and haunting, as if they held stories of their own.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that swearing is rude?” she barked suddenly, her gaze flicking to me with playful accusation.

I closed my eyes, feeling a flush of embarrassment. “Once or twice.”

“Sleep, little one. I’ll try to keep your nightmares away.” Her tone was softer now, as if she understood the weight of my weariness.

My eyes snapped back open at her words. Lily noticed my surprise and smiled gently, a transformation that made her appear ten years younger, the burden of her past momentarily lifted. 

“You were crying,” she said softly, concern lacing her words.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, shame flooding my cheeks, wishing I could pull the memories of my fears back into the depths of my mind.

“I have nightmares, too. One day, I’ll tell you why they haunt me and why they never leave. But for now, let me share how I manage to survive them.” 

Lily pulled a band from her wrist and swept her hair into a messy ponytail. The movement highlighted her tall, pointed ears, a feature that now seemed almost majestic in the firelight. I couldn’t help but wonder about the rest of her—a creature born of both human and something wild, a mixture of strength and vulnerability hidden beneath her baggy clothes.

“On bad mornings, it feels impossible to enjoy anything because I’m terrified it could vanish. So, I play a little game: I make a mental list of every act of kindness I’ve witnessed. I just do it over and over again. It gets tedious, but after doing it for so long, you get used to it. There are worse games to play.”

Her words settled between us, a fragile bridge built from shared pain. Whatever shadows haunted her, it was clear she wouldn’t share them tonight. I was too wrapped up in my own swirling thoughts to consider her horrors—too many fears to confront, too many questions I didn’t want to voice. I didn’t think she was hoping for anything from me, anyway; she seemed content to offer her wisdom without demanding answers in return.

“Wake me if you have them,” I whispered into the darkness, feeling a strange sense of connection in the quiet. “I can try my best to keep yours away, too.”

“Thank you. You’re very sweet,” she replied, and her sincerity made my stomach twist with unease; if only she knew how wrong she was.

I rolled over, facing away from her, the warmth of her words lingering in the air like a promise. “Go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow,” she said, her voice fading into the quiet.

Lily hummed softly, but I couldn’t hear her moving around. Giving up on being social, I closed my eyes and willed myself into sleep. 

As I drifted further away from consciousness, the last thing I saw was the silhouette of a deer gliding through the trees, its antlers twisted into a heart-like shape against the dusky sky. I lay there, watching the creature as I sank deeper into slumber, just on the brink of nothingness when I felt Lily shuffle closer.

“Idiot forgot about a blanket,” she murmured, and suddenly I was enveloped in warmth, her presence a comforting shield against the unknown that lurked outside the cave. 

The warmth wrapped around me like a tender embrace, and I could no longer hold my eyes open. Just before sleep fully claimed me, I felt the stirrings of peace settle into my bones, allowing me to drift away into the safety of dreams—where the forest would guard my heart for just a little while longer.

Translations

Bicce - Female dog (bitch)

Swígan - Quiet

Taglist: @greezenini @adventures-in-bookland @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @zae007live @jimin-neverout @nikkiordonez12 @canarystwin @yamekomz @chimthicc @michiiedreamer @amorieus @mima795 @yunki-yunki-yunki @vskhn016 @keiarajm

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[jazeswhbhaven]

An Unslighty Guy | React | SPOILERS

WELCOME BACK TO GEHENNA LOVELIES. Let's jump right in by me saying that I love the fact that Paimon is a social media content creator. It makes complete sense for him to be. This also reminds me that it's canon that Orias is also a content creator trying out facial products/makeup etc. I wonder if he links up with Paimon and Eligos at all.

Anywayssss he's filming for the meeting that happens every 5 years, and everyone is like yeah it's noisy around this time because of Sitri and Amy....lmao

and pointing out that Eligos follows Paimon's channel is very cute. However from Mammon's event it's possible that Eligos is older than Paimon (so he'd be the senior to Paimon's junior)

so ya'll remember when Ppyong was annoyed as fuck during Chapter 6 with all of those girls at the cafe wanting a picture with him and wanting autographs, etc. It seems the same thing carries over to Hell and he can't stand popularity but he's popular anyway. He's even rude to the fans and they don't even care they just eat it up and say they'll drink toilet water for him at this rate. I'm just like HELLO? lmao

Leraye is concerned, but Paimon teases him by telling him "when you're older you'll understand why they like him so much" and that confirms Leraye is possibly the youngest out of the Gehenna nobles. I really do wish they'd come out with an age chart or something to make this shit eaiser I STG.

Then here comes these two cuties, and Astaroth tries his hand an interpreting what Zagan is saying, but he got it wrong like completely wrong lmao

It's cute because he even gets bummed about it and has to pet Apophis for comfort and I'm just like AWH HE WANTS TO TRANSLATE FOR THE BAB.

I wonder if it's just something he wants to be able to do just because or if he truly wants to help Zagan and they are close like how Paimon and Leraye are usually hanging out together all the time.

But the meeting is about to begin and Ppyong asks if Amy is showing up and well....

Sitri is great at fucking acting because the way I thought he was being foreal for a second like how everyone thought Belial was dead at the beginning of Chapter 1 lmao

Amy came in like "the fuck I am, what's good?"

I feel like personally Amy would use any and every insult known to man to throw at Sitri because he just has that much of disdain toward him and I really am itching to know why that is. I swear it's probably over something super fucking petty or small.

So we're all like omfg Sitri just sat up here and wished death on this man. Yes. Yes he did.

But they give us some insight on Amy's importance to Gehenna's army. He handles a lot of the localized battles to make sure that there's no help needed from the capital. I'm not very familiar with battle jargon so as I see simply...he's the guy that handles the little stuff so the larger scale battles can be focused on more by the other nobles and their subordinates. This sounds way more organized and detailed than our little battles don't it? Since we only have like six characters to work with lmao

But he wears Satan's jumpsuit design and so do the others in his company, so everyone knows him that way. And it turns out he's quite well liked. Sitri too.

Is it just me or is Amy taller than Sitri? I need age and height charts n a o.

But as per usual the wording always throws me off, because "hot rough older brother" should only be used if it's the friend that's calling your brother that or something because if his peers see him as a brother but also hot??? idk whatever I'm thinking too deeply.

Point being. they both hot. they both do the thing.

So Sitri is quite pissed and pretty much ignores Amy's presence and asks Astaroth why it didn't work cursing Amy to die and it's explained that you have to say it more than once for the curse to work. (cool that Astaroth knows stuff like this). So Amy starts his little mantra of wanting the poor guy dead

Since I know what he sounds like, it's funny to try to read this in his voice in my head.

Sitri ain't never missed with his clapback. I swear he was just born with the ability to roast anyone at any given moment.

(it's funny because when my cat was in heat before I got her fixed she was LOUD asf like that shit would keep me up at night)

And even more so Amy tries to tell him he was gonna sit down anyway without taking orders from him and Sitri clocked him again by saying that those who cum early talk too much and those who don't talk very seldom. Out here calling him a one pump chump.

now how do you know which one he is Sitri hm???? care to share with the class??

Anyways, Satan shows up and sees the table all fucked up and he's just happy.

He really said he here for the chaos.

He is definitely here to start some shit and it makes me laugh because that's his entire focus. He doesn't even hide that he's trying to do it. He even told Amy to break the chair from stomping around and Sitri took it as Satan getting onto him. What's funny to me is that I think Satan literally just wanted him to break furniture so Sitri has something to say about it. I'm crying.

Amy was ready to go ya'll he told Sitri to meet him outside, square up, grab his guns, saddle up, the whole nine yards. Sitri is just like well no the meeting comes first and Satan and was like "ugh fine" and decided to pay attention to important stuff lol.

Amy apparently lost this round to Sitri because Satan forgot all about the fight and focused on the meeting instead.

Also from that screencap above I'm definitely not trippin' Amy is taller than Sitri and Satan like WHAT is his height hello?

SO it's five years later and the meeting happens again, and Amy kept that energy because once Sitri came through that door?

it was on sight. lmaoooooo

Also wtf Amy why is your bosoms so big and taking up the screen. Maybe that's why you're mad because Sitri's got the badonk booty and you don't because it's all in your chesssttt.

anyways

There's more banter between these two and the other nobles are just standing by watching as per usual until Ppyong genuinely wants to know why they hate each other so much if they were in the same class when enlisted.

It also sounds like Sitri knew Satan before that and decided to become his right hand devil at the same time. Hm.

So in other words "if they keep at each others throats like that they actually like each other they just don't know how to show it"

Satan even does the "hehe now kisssssss" move

Now this little CG is adorable. Astaroth pulled out his 3D glasses, Paimon has his camera ready...I love them so much this is hilarious.

Awh grumpy Paimon is grumpy. He wanted the picture because it was gonna get a million views lmao

And Leraye is right on the money, because how did Amy and Sitri know to turn their heads at that exact moment?

clocked 'em

Satan is thirsty now because he's blissfully unware that he almost made them kiss. Sitri wants to brew tea, but Amy is like "nah we ain't got time for that I'll go on a drink run <3"

Then...

they literally became my favorite gif

So while they have their stare down, Leraye saves the day by saying it's too hot to have Sitri slave over a hot stove making tea so having Amy go on a drink run is much faster.

So he orders iced tea (iirc), Paimon wants orange juice, Astaroth???

sir wth does this even mean? like? 😭😭

Anyways while Sitri was kinda ticked off that Amy went to go fetch the drinks instead of him, he didn't really fight it that it would be faster. Amy also appreciated that everyone had his back on this decision.

Which btw he got those drinks quick asf, like where did he even find all of this?

purified water from the golden river of tartaros??? Where do they sell that? cold ade sounds like gatorade/kool-aid or something and juice yeah you can get that anywhere and cold coffee for belial and Astaroth

oh no what about my bby Zagan :(((( no drink for him?

but he even got Sitri a drink....except...

He done got this man a bottle of fucking sesame oil dressing...two fucking liters of it.

"Don't be frugal" he says.

What kinda petty ass childish shit LMAO I'd literally pour it on his head for bringing that to me. Satan laughed though so I guess that's his kind of humor, and everyone else tried to not laugh either. Sitri ofc was not amused lol but I guess Amy won this round.

So it sounds like tomorrow we will FINALLY know why they hold these meetings and why it's spread out by five years each time.

So far I'm really liking the banter between the two. It's really something. it also makes me want to really write them together b a d l y. Like there's so many things I could give the reason for why they hate each other so much.

But that's day one and two ya'll. Thankfully nothing has me off track so I can follow each day at a time ^^

See ya'll at the next react lovelies <3

[miri-tiazan]

Fresh from the archives, new unhinged 00Q chatfic!

So, @cicerfics and have been writing unhinged 00Q chatfics and headcanons back and forth in DMs for uh… going on two years now, and it seems like perhaps the time has come to unearth some of these from the archives and dust them off for sharing. Accordingly, here is the very first chatfic we did, inspired by this comment thread on Ch. 7 of cicer’s delightful fic the warmth of your doorways!

tags: omegaverse, mpreg, weird omegaverse hormone nonsense, menopause

---

miri-tiazan: Oh God. Cicer. Doesn’t even have to be mpreg but…

Omega Bond going into his first heat in decades and just spontaneously deciding that Q’s flat is the Only Acceptable Location to nest in. They’re not even dating! Bond’s just broken in a few times! Q has no idea why this is happening!

Q just gets an alert from his home security system one day and Bond is There and he’s like, refinishing the window trim in the second bedroom or something. And also he won’t leave. Surprise, Q! You have a roommate, and he’s hormonal! Enjoy your new home improvements!

cicerfics: ...Okay, now that we're talking about this, you know what I'm a little bit obsessed with right now? The entire question of menopause in omegaverse. I don't think I've ever seen an a/b/o fic REALLY explore that concept, but now it's fascinating to me!

Like, what if nesting is a thing omegas only do when they're pregnant OR going through menopause? What if Bond (having never been pregnant) never experienced any of these instincts/urges and thought he was impervious to them? What if he hits 44/45, enters perimenopause, and is absolutely BODIED by the urge to:

a) Acquire a nice house b) Renovate, refurbish, and redecorate it c) Learn to cook d) Start a lil herb garden or something and maybe make some pesto??? e) Acquire a lover/companion to feed up and care for f) Acquire some pets/babies/random houseplants/literally anything that requires his protection and nurturing

Poor dude has ZERO experience with these types of urges. But when they appear, they hit him like a TRUCK. And his own flat is way too cold/sterile/crappy/lonely for proper nesting. There aren't even any cats or quartermasters in there!!

So, yes: one day Q gets home from work and Bond has simply annexed his flat/cats/kitchen. There are already overflowing bags from the hardware store scattered around the flat, because Bond has made up his mind that three different rooms need to be repainted, the bathroom needs a complete reno, and oh yeah, he's replacing the sofa because this one simply Isn't Right. The vibes are Bad. Bond Doesn't Like It, so it's gotta go.

Also, there's pasta sauce simmering on the stove and probably a trifle waiting in the fridge, and the cats are wearing new designer collars.

And sorry Q, but if you didn't want a hormonal new housemate/husband who is going through The Change...too bad. You got one anyway! He's here to stay...and no, he doesn't understand what's happening to his body/mind, either. Good luck, everybody!!

Continued on AO3 here:

00Q Chatfics and Assorted Headcanons (2391 words) by cicer, miri_tiazan Chapters: 1/? Fandom: James Bond (Craig Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James Bond/Q Characters: James Bond, Q (James Bond) Additional Tags: Omegaverse, Mpreg | Male Pregnancy, weird omegaverse hormone nonsense, Menopause Summary: Lightly edited chat transcripts between cicer and miri_tiazan: some live-written fics, some random headcanons, some plot-free fluff, all 00Q!

[hawkinsbnbg]

WIP Word Game

Rules: You will be given a word. Share a snippet from a WIP for every letter in that word, then tag some people and give them a new word.

Thanks for the tag, @pentapoctopus 💖 My word was COMPLETION.

C: Fools (chapter 1 is already up on ao3, but I really need to go back and edit it again one day 😅)

"C'mere, sweetheart," Eddie said quietly, beckoning him over. Given that Steve was already sitting on the floor, he naturally scooted into the space between Eddie's open legs and looked up at him with his doe eyes.

O: Part-time Lover (part 3 of Bad Decision series, not posted)

"Oh yeah?" Robin gave him a wicked smile. "I doubt he'd still find you sexy if he knows about that one time you had a dildo stuck so deep in your ass that you got wheeled straight into the ER."

M: dream boys, don't get lost in your fairytale (not sure if I'd ever post this because it has grown so out of hand, but let's hope that I'll be done with it by the end of this year 🤞)

"Missed you, too," he returned softly, feeling dizzy and out of breath. "Daddy."

P: Risky Business (part 2 of Bad Decision series, not posted)

"Perfect," Billy repeated the word slowly, like he was tasting it, relishing the taste of it. An easy smile perched on Billy's lips as he carded his fingers through Steve's hair. "What else can I do for you, princess?"

L: Still Loving You (the prologue is already up on ao3)

"Listen, you could pretend all you want, and I don't care what you've been up to all those years. But don't ever expect me to forget about us. It pains me right here." He clutched his chest, almost pleading with her to look at his broken heart. "To finally see you again, only to watch you act like we're merely strangers and refuse to acknowledge my existence in your past."

E: Still Loving You (this is my first time writing them fighting. so excited! 😆)

Eddie caught her hand before she could get away. "What? So now I'm just Mr. Munson to you?"

T: untitled (omegaverse, alphas can shift into wolf form though most have lost that ability due to evolution, lonely o!Steve as a Disney princess)

Teddy was a big dog, bigger than the strays that often visited him for sure, and would dwarf Steve easily if the canine ever stood on his hind legs. With soulful russet eyes, black silky fur, and long sharp teeth, Teddy had burst into his monotonous life like a storm, saving him from a deathly fall from a willow tree one evening.

I: sweater weather (not posted)

It wasn't until Nancy, Jonathan, the kids, and the Upside Down that he realized how much of a bullshit he had been. And even then, he still clung pathetically to the few scraps of what once was in hopes all the horrible things that had ever happened to him would start making sense.

O: untitled (cat shifter Steve au)

"Oh, it's nothing fancy, just an experiment of mine." His ringed fingers scratched under Steve's chin absently, causing those heterochromia eyes to glaze over and squint into lazy slits. "This big boy seems to like it a lot, though."

N: princess treatment (not posted)

No wonder Dustin always acted so smug for being his favorite. Because Steve started seeing the appeal of the whole I'm-the-chosen-one thing.

No pressure tag: @kissesforvamp @rabidaly @wheneverfeasible @pukner @katyawriteswhump @fayefayefaye90 @lexirosewrites @thorniest-rose @mixsethaddams

Your word is: PARAMOUR.

[gugapuppy]

Abortion - Part 9 Bad End (A!Ghost x O!Soap)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 (Bad End) || Part 10 (Hopeful End)

═══════════════════════════

Note that this chapter is the bad ending, meaning it's just hurt no comfort, and also features the death of a main character.

Read the notes after you've finished reading, which will explain what I was thinking when I wrote this chapter.

CW: Hurt no confort, Main character death

═══════════════════════════

Despair is a rope in the heart, because just when you think everything is going to be all right, you hang yourself.

Ghost calls Soap's mobile every day for two months in the hope that the man will answer, but of course it doesn't work. He gives up when Price tells him that Soap has changed his number.

He refused to give Ghost his number.

The lieutenant's room reeked of tiredness, melancholy and worst of all, cold. Without the warmth of anything nearby.

He was an idiot, he repeated every waking minute, how he managed to lose a person who was the light in all the stormy days.

Price would sometimes find him sitting on the stairs at dawn, the same stairs where he and Johnny smoked and talked when no-one was awake. Ghost would stare into nothingness every time, trapped in past memories, Price would always take him back to his room and sleep sitting in his chair to watch over him during the night.

Ghost knew the captain was tired, the black lines under his eyes showed it. But Ghost couldn't bring himself to care, ignorant of other people's pain, only caring about his own.

Maybe that's why Johnny left him. Simon was selfish.

Gaz and Price still whispered behind his back every time they had a mission or a meeting, even four months later. About what they should do with Ghost. 

Ghost was empty, he couldn't care, not even when a shot was fired into his chest, or when everyone looked at him and gossiped behind his back, or when he hugged the ultrasound to try to feel close to something. Not even the roars to discipline the cadents existed any more.

Price forced him to go into therapy, to try to talk to someone so that he could let out whatever he was feeling.

But of course that didn't work either, for four weeks, three times each, he would go into the room and sit down, the counsellor would ask him various questions, every possible topic.

But Ghost wouldn't answer, nor would he blink for minutes at a time. He didn't return to the office after a month.

Price couldn't send him on holiday for fear that the man would fuck up, and removing him from the field wouldn't do any good, he needed to stay close to Ghost for his own safety, for his own mind and for Simon.

——💀——

The first time he showed any emotion was when Farah came to see him through a request from Price, perhaps the alpha could do something that a poor beta couldn't.

Farah sat with Ghost in the man's room, Price waited in the corridor listening to everything.

"Hey Ghost, how are you?" she asked softly, kneeling down in front of Ghost who was sitting on the bed staring at nothing on the wall.

She waited for an answer, but nothing came. "We're all here for you, Ghost." He looked her in the eye, hope in his eyes. "What do you need?"

Johnny. He needed his Johnny. To smell him, to share a nest with him, to have a family. But he couldn't have that, he wasn't a good alpha, a good person. He didn't answer, he had nothing to answer for.

"Look," she gently took Ghost's hand, he hadn't cut his nails in months he noted.

"We all want you well-" Farah tries to scent him by putting her wrist against his, but Ghost quickly gets up and pushes her away.

Farah falls to the floor grunting in pain, Ghost must have let out the loudest roar of his life, because Price quickly opens the door and puts himself between the two of them, his hands on the lieutenant's chest as he tries to calm him down.

But Ghost only has one reaction going through his head and that is to shout. "DON'T TOUCH ME! ONLY JOHNNY CAN DO THAT!"

"SIMON!" Price shouts at him, but the lieutenant continues shouting at the other alpha on the floor. A horrible smell of anger spreads through the room, making Farah hold her nose.

"ONLY HE CAN SCENT ME! GET OUT OF HERE KARIM!"

No one could touch him that intimately, only one person could. 

Farah tries to open her mouth to say something, but stops when Price looks at her with concern. Farah slowly leaves the room, closing the door.

Price calms Ghost down after several minutes, they both sit on the bed, Ghost bites his lip, not wanting to swear at the captain, the only one who was there for him every day. He didn't want to be left alone by him.

After that day, Ghost began to express more of his stored-up anger, the years of silent resentment towards his father, mother and brother, his life that made him lose everything that was most important to him!

Why did he have to suffer?! Why did he have to be like this?! Why could everyone have nice things while he could have nothing?! Why couldn't he be normal? Why didn't he deserve love and care...?

Training mornings were torture for the soldiers, who were cursed at and drained of energy, subjected to humanly gruelling workouts. The bravest who tried to challenge Ghost, young and reckless alphas, ended up in the medical ward within two minutes.

Not even Price's sermons or threats worked, and of course they weren't going to. What else did Ghost have to lose? No family, no partner and no purpose.

On missions, instead of quietly eliminating his enemies, Ghost performed a torture scene with each one, disembowelling them in a cautious and brutal manner, a rage that went beyond contempt for them.

——💀——

A year since the man was separated from his omega, Johnny's voice was fading, nights were spent trying to imagine a face that was disappearing, the clothes with his scent had already been worn away by time.

It was the worst thing, he didn't want to forget. He wanted to remember.

He begged the long-forgotten gods to make him remember just one thing about Johnny.

But of course nothing happened.

The anger, the aggression, had passed, leaving only a soldier with the objectives of his job.

Price had already given up trying to help Ghost find psychological help, he didn't know what the lieutenant was feeling, carrying, but he knew it would destroy him in the future.

He stopped calling him Simon over time, realising that there was only one hurt person in front of him who didn't care anymore.

When Ghost noticed, he stayed up all night. Could it be that if he had opened up to the therapist, Price would still see him as someone worth befriending?

Maybe if Ghost hadn't fucked things up with Johnny, they'd still be together, Price and Gaz would still be his friends.

Maybe if he hadn't fucked up he and Johnny would have a beautiful family while they slept in a big nest.

And maybe if some god existed, Ghost could sleep that night thinking about the family he'd have, while hugging the ultrasound photo again.

——💀——

In two years, Ghost became a spectre in the corridors, locked in his office and his room, rarely in daylight training recruits. 

Price sent him on solo missions, he always had the information in hand as Laswell didn't want to be in the lieutenant's presence. Ghost always filled them in completely.

One day Price sent him for a fortnight to guard a base full of hostiles. It was among the mountains of Canada, snowy and cold.

Sometimes, in the rarity of moments like these, Ghost could go back in time, before everything and feel the Christmas he spent with Johnny, under the covers in the big nest that smelt of the two of them, where the cold didn't pass and the sun came through the curtains.

The walks on a cloudy day, the whispers of promises and passions, the sound.

Perhaps a tear fell in those moments, but Ghost didn't pay it any mind, trying to believe that it was probably a dusting of wind.

On returning to the base, the relaxation in several people was noticeable, Ghost could imagine that everyone had been given the day off while Ghost was away. He understood.

But he didn't understand what he saw in the captain's office when he reported in. On his disorganised desk, Ghost saw a photo. And when he realised what it was, his heart squeezed and his breathing stopped.

Price must have noticed the sudden change in Ghost, he always did. "Ghost..." He whispered.

"It was while I was away, wasn't it?" Ghost pulled himself together quickly, he had no right to be angry, he knew that, but it still hurt.

It hurt to see the photo on the desk showing Price with the newlyweds John Mactavish and Kyle Garrick.

As always, Johnny looked handsome, in a white suit, his hair without a mohawk, and his eyes with an incomparable joy. It hurt to know that he would never be able to give Johnny that joy.

It hurt to leave the captain's office silently.

It hurt to go back to his own room and lock it.

It hurt to lie in bed and feel cold.

It hurt to imagine the past where he still had friends who enjoyed his presence.

It hurt to feel the tears that had been trapped finally come out.

But it hurt even more to know that he was alone for good.

——💀——

Perhaps finally, for the first time in three years since the news of the wedding, five years since everything broke, he finally understood.

He was on a mission, leading several against a group of Russians at the only nuclear power station in Scotland. They stormed the site, eliminating as many hostiles as possible.

And all was going well, until Ghost discovered that there was a bomb inside the plant, which he rushed to try and defuse. On the way he was hit several times, but managed to fight back. 

He managed to defuse the bomb, but there was a problem. The adrenaline began to drain out of the captain, letting him feel every bullet hole, every knife thrust into his arms, chest and legs.

He fell to the ground, crawling over to one of the walls to prop himself up. He called for medical help even though he knew it was hopeless. 

And everything was fine.

In the silence of the room he began to realise, he really had been a terrible person.

Selfish and proud, sins he had squandered, blinded by pain and anguish. Price tried to help, and he ignored him, but he always tried his best.

"Thanks Price." He mumbles wearily. Perhaps the old man, wherever he is, can sense the sincerity.

Going their separate ways was something they both needed, time to heal, all those moments lived would never go away, they would always be kept in a golden drawer.

Not believing what was happening made Ghost blind, he didn't see the pain that Price, Gaz, Farah, Laswell and Soap went through when everything fell apart, the pain they felt.

He was angry that he couldn't have any more happy times with his partner.

He begged any entity out there for just one more moment, even though he knew that nothing could help him. Forgetting that he had to help himself.

‘Crying was for fags,’ Ghost's father used to say, but how could he not cry when he finally realised that there was no turning back.

With a pained sigh, Ghost pulled a photo out of his pocket, an ultrasound scan.

Perhaps it was delirium, but he felt the photo warm in his fingers, the same warmth he felt years ago before he fell into misery. 

"Hey kid, I'm your father..." Bringing the photo close to his chest, his watery eyes dripping tears with the rest of his strength, he understood.

He accepted that everything was fine, that nothing could be changed, but that there was still room for hope for something better. Johnny was still alive and happy, and that was enough.

With one last breath, one last smile.

"Live well... my family..."

═══════════════════════════

Notes:

When I started writing I had doubts about how I would do it, until I heard a soundtrack that gave me an idea.

I then decided to follow the line of the five stages of grief, as it was in my opinion a good fit. Five parts with each stage, starting with denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

Over time we see various actions, manias that Ghost repeats over and over again, the things he most fears happening, but he also forgets that other people are also suffering, which ends up degrading the relationships he has.

In the end he accepted everything that had happened, the pain continued but he still had the memories, and that was enough.

I never thought I'd write an MCD like that, I was surprised.

If you're going through something similar, seek professional help before taking any action. Stay safe and well folks.

Links I used for my research on this story: https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/abortion/what-happens/ https://vidafertility.com/en/semen-analysis-results/

[whoevenheckinknows]

Fantasies Of You Pt. 1/2 (DickJay Week 2025 Day 3) (Explicit)

Chapter 1: Fantasies

Part 2 AO3

Fandom: Batman All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Warnings Apply Relationship: Dick Grayson x Jason Todd, Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd,

Tags: DickJay week 2025, Dickjay week day 3, Inappropriate Use of Dick's Escrima Sticks, pining, pseudo-incest, masturbation, bottom jason todd, fantasizing, object insertion, actually beta read for once so we're revived also like Jason todd, more tags to be added with chapter 2, Do not post to other sites, Cross-Posted on my other socials, POV Third Person

Summary: Jason finds an abandoned pair of Dick's escrima sticks and is filled with such want for Dick's cock the escrima sticks up his ass. He tries to resist, but eventually he gives in… more than once.

But the more times you do something, the more likely you are to get caught, and it's only a matter of time until someone discovers Jason's little indulgence.

AN: This was my first ever attempt to write smut. I only ended up getting halfway through what I wanted, so I figured I'd just publish this part for Day 3, then finish the rest for free week (if it's done by then). Hope y'all enjoy!

18 Silver Fox Dick Grayson|Amnesia|Inappropriate Use of Dick's Escrima Sticks|Battlefield Injuries|Sugar Baby Jason

Chapter 1: Fantasies

~~~~~

It starts like this. After a long and tiring patrol, Jason decides to stop at one of the less used Bat safehouses for the night. The place is covered in dust from disuse, and any food that doesn't have a long shelf life has long since gone bad. If Jason were less tired, he might've cleaned up a little. He usually hates inhabiting a dirty space. But, it's not like this safehouse belongs to him, so he could really not care less about cleaning it right now.

He strips out of his Red Hood uniform and plops down on the couch in the living room, shutting his eyes. Damn, even just the couch feels like heaven on his sore muscles. He can only imagine how comfortable the bed will feel if he ever gains the energy to get up and make his way to the bedroom.

Jason sighs and opens his eyes. That's when he sees them.

There, underneath the coffee table in front of the couch, Jason can make out two escrima sticks laying abandoned on the floor. He stretches his arm out to grasp them and pull them out.

Jason doesn't know how long they must have been there. He just saw Nightwing out tonight with a pair, slightly upgraded compared to these ones, so he knows these must be long abandoned. Jason doesn't know what to do with them. He can bring them to Dick, but he doesn't know if Dick will care one way or another. They are old after all.

Sure, he knows Dick will be happy if he returns them. If not for getting the sticks back, then for Jason making time to go see the older man. He'll smile that wide smile of his, and thank Jason so genuinely, even if Jason knows he'll probably never use those sticks again. They'll most likely get scrapped or just thrown in a pile of spares.

But he'll grasp those sticks so tightly as he pulls Jason into a tight hug. Even as Jason will struggle (albeit halfheartedly, but Dick wouldn't need to know that), Dick will continue to whisper thanks in Jason's ear. Maybe Jason will feel the sticks, still in Dick's hands, slightly brush against his back, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Maybe he'll be holding the sticks just low enough, and they'll be just long enough, to lightly rub against the crack of Jason's ass.

Maybe he'll offer a way to repay Jason for returning them.

Jason blinks the image out of his mind. He feels his dick twitch in interest and has to fight back an aggravated groan. Goddammit, he is not in the mood to deal with his complicated feelings towards his older brother.

He throws the sticks back onto the ground and uses his arm to cover his eyes. He tries to ignore the thoughts trying to push into his head as he falls asleep.

In the land of dreams, it's harder to ignore the thoughts of Dick showing Jason exactly how he'll thank him.

Jason wakes up with a sticky feeling in his underwear and the need for a long cold shower.

~~~

Jason tries to put that night behind him, he really does. It's not like it's the first time Jason's had to push his progressively more lustful thoughts of his older brother to the back of his mind. It 's likely not the last either.

He's able to ignore it for all of ten days. Ten days of looking away any time he catches a glance of Nightwing holding his new escrima sticks. Ten days of forcing himself to not stare at Dick both in and out of costume. Ten days of trying to forget the dream as best he can.

Ten days, of course, doesn't last forever.

Jason, injured and more than a little exhausted, makes his way to the nearest safehouse. Of course, its only as he grapples onto the fire escape that he realizes just which safehouse he's gone to. If he were any less tired, he'd turn right back around and find a different place to crash. Instead, he takes a deep breath and makes his way inside.

Jason quickly strips out of his Red Hood armor and throws the pieces onto the floor. Grabbing the first aid kit, he sits down on the couch in just his underwear and a tank top. It doesn't take long to address his wounds, just a few cuts and bruises. In no time at all he's done and he finds himeself with nothing else to distract his thoughts. He can see those damn escrima sticks, right on the ground where he threw them.

He really should just leave them. Go into the bedroom to sleep, or get up and go to a completely different safehouse, now that he's patched up. But… he can't stop himself from reaching down and grasping the sticks tightly. He brings them closer to his face to get a better look. He caresses one gently, feeling the cool and smooth material on his warm skin. The feeling sends a shiver through him. How would they feel rubbing other parts of his body?

Jason dick twitches. He can imagine Dick running these along his skin. Starting at his neck, maybe pressing in just a bit to hear Jason choke. Trailing lower over his pecs, grazing his nipples teasingly as he does. Down further past his abs and hips, and all the way down to his cock. Only spending a moment running it along that before turning him around and ramming it straight into Jason's ass. Maybe there would have been prep, maybe there wouldn't have. Either way the image makes Jason's blood rush south. Picturing that long stick being pumped in and out of him, or hell, both sticks doing so, fills Jason with a desperate need he's never felt before.

Using the stick in hand, Jason gently strokes his thigh. The damn thing isn't even touching his cock, yet the cool sensation sends a shiver down his spine. He traces the seam of his boxers until the stick brushes against his clothed bulge. His breath hitches. He brings the stick back down his thigh, and this time catching under the loose fabric. It moves up, pulling the edge of the boxer as the stick creeps under. Finally, it lands exactly where Jason wants it.

Jason gasps. The cool metal on his heated cock feels even better than he ever could have imagined.

Jason allows only a few strokes before he pulls the stick out. He places both next to him and bends down to his discarded utility belt. He pulls out a condom and a packet of lube that he keeps in there for the working girls. As much as he longs to feel the metal inside of him, he doesn't know where they've been or how long they've been here collecting dust.

Bending over causes Jason to become painfully aware of his hardening dick. He should probably give it some proper attention first, before anything else.

Jason's hand starts to palm over his clothed bulge. He sighs out at the feeling. His mind starts to wander as he hardens under the ministrations. Reaching under his waistband, he imagines it's someone else's hand grasping him. In his head, it's Dick's hand that's now slowly stroking, moving up and down leisurely on his cock as if there's all the time in the world. A thumb rubs at his tip, teasing the slit while allowing some precum to leak out. Jason thinks of how Dick would murmur and tease him as he slowly works over his cock. 

Heavy breathing fills the room, interrupted only by moans and grunts. His hand works overtime as he changes between longer, teasing strokes, and short jerks. His mind is plagued only by thoughts of what Dick would say to Jason as he continues to jerk himself off. Would Dick be the kind of lover to whisper loving praise into his ear? Or would he be the type to give filthy commands Jason would have no choice but to follow? He can hear it now. Dick’s amused and heated voice whispering to him-Cum for me, Jay.

A loud moan rips through him, his orgasm sudden and intense. His hips stutter as he continues moving his hand, slowing down to milk the orgasm as much as he can. Damn. He must have really been pent up if he came that quickly. 

Jason takes a moment to bask in feeling. Fuck, he really needed this.

Glancing to the side, Jason sees the escrima sticks sitting innocently next to him. In his post-nut clarity, he thinks of stopping now while he's ahead. Sure, he just had a fucking fantastic orgasm to the thought of his brother giving him a hand job. That's fucked up in its own way, he knows. But using Dick's escrima for his own pleasure? Would that be a step too far?

Looking down to where his cock is still semi-hard inside his soiled underwear, he decides fuck it. In for a penny in for a pound.

Pulling his boxers down and off, Jason tosses them carelessly onto the pile of Red Hood armor on the floor. He resumes stroking his dick, slowly working it back up. It doesn't take long at all for him to become fully erect once more.

Jason rips open the lube packet and squirts some onto his fingers. Making sure it covers his whole hand, he doesn't give it enough time to warm up as he reaches behind himself.

Using his index finger, Jason lightly circles his rim. Feeling the still cool lube on his ass causes a groan to escape his lips. He slowly pushes the tip of one finger inside, feeling his cock jerk at the action. Despite his recent orgams causing him to be fairly sensitive, it still feels fucking incredible.

Jason slowly pushes the finger all the way in and clenches down in response. Moving the finger slowly, it doesn't take long for him to be loose enough to add another. He pumps in and out, switching between scissoring and thrusting his fingers. Working himself open, Jason's mind once again wanders to Dick. Imagines that it's Dick's fingers spreading him wide, preparing him for Dick's cock escrima. Dick's fingers that brush oh so slightly on his prostate, causing a burst of pleasure to hit him without warning.

At this angle, Jason can't quite thrust into it like he desperately wants to. Like Dick probably would. But even just the light touches quickly turn Jason into a moaning mess, his hips jerking into the air in an attempt to push deeper.

A third finger is added, followed quickly by a fourth. Soon, Jason becomes desperate for more. He needs something bigger, something deeper. Thrusting only a few more times, Jason pulls out completely. He strokes his cock a few times as well, watching the lube mix with the cum and fresh precum that coat the head.

Grabbing one of the escrima sticks, Jason opens and rolls the condom on. He strokes it roughly with his lube and cum covered hand. It's not quite enough, so he squeezes the rest of the lube on top. He makes sure it's nice and slick before getting into position.

Jason brings his knees up onto the sofa, and turns so his ass is high in air. He lines up with his ass, rubbing the slick covered tip around the entrance.

Then, he pushes it in.

Fuck. Even if Jason can't feel the metal, the cold lube inside of him makes a good substitute. He's only pushed it an inch or so, but he moans as a chill runs through him and he shivers in pleasure. He pushes down further. Inch by inch, he inserts the stick inside of him, thrusting in and out to stretch himself further. His moans increase in number as each thrust sends the stick deeper and deeper inside of him.

After a particularly deep thrust, Jason can't help himself from grinding down hard into the sofa. His cock rubs deliciously on the rough fabric underneath him.

Once again, his mind drifts. His brain pictures Dick behind him, being the one in control. Dick who pushes deeper and faster and harder. If Jason were to look back he would see his blue eyes filled with lust and even just the thought of it makes his groan again. Jason reaches in front of himself, and imagines it's Dick who grabs his cock and starts stroking with such intensity that Jason wants to scream.

Jason changes his angle with every thrust, imagining it's Dick searching for his prostate. And when he finally finds it? He attacks it ruthlessly. Jason's moans and whines get even louder, and Jason has to stop himself from coming again. He doesn't want this to end yet.

Jason's mind blurs further and suddenly it's Dick's cock inside of him, milking his prostate with such intensity. One of Dick's hands is on his hips, and the other is pumping Jason's cock deliciously.

Jason feels the pressure building and building with each thrust. It's too much. The stimulation of both his ass and cock overwhelms him and try as he might, he can't hold back anymore.

Jason lets out a loud cry as he cums. It's even more intense than before, bright spots in his vision as the pleasure fills every nerve in his body. He continues to thrust onto the cock stick and stroke himself to prolong the feeling for as long as he can. Eventually, though, he has to stop as overstimulation sets in.

He thinks about continuing anyway. Getting another round in, or spending the whole night with the escrima shoved up his ass. But exhaustion is creeping in. He knows he has to stop.

Jason slows to a halt, and strokes his cock a few more times to get out every last drop of cum out. Finally, he stills completely.

Jason sits there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Covered in cum and sweat, with an escrima stick shoved as far as he could get it up his ass, he can imagine the sight he makes. But he can't care any less right now. Not when he feels satisfied for the first time in so, so long.

Now that his head is clear of lust, Jason feels a bit of regret. But, strangely, he doesn't feel nearly as much as he expected. In fact, as he looks down at the other stick, which has long since rolled off the couch, he has a thought. This definitely won't be the last time he does this.

End Note: My friend beta read this for me and made me rewrite it multiple times until it was halfway decent (maybe I'll post the og as crack at some point). Although she didn't get to read the last little bit cause I finished it today while also feeling like shit so if the ending sucks that's why. But she doesn't want to be associated with my "shitty porn" so I wont name her. She doesn't even ship this so everyone thank her for her suffering <3 If there's any errors, feel free to say in the comments. Or if you just want to talk.

Come talk to me elsewhere

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[itspikamefan]

Save the Tiger Unquoted; Cold as Ice

(This wasn't a request but I wanted to write the discovery of (REDACTED)'s body in Chapter 3 of Save the Tiger. Why? Bored. Mostly. And hey! You all seem to like my little AU! So why not? Anyways enough of my yapping let's get INTO THE STORY!)

(Harada's POV)

...Cold...

Keizou hadn't really been all that familiar with the feeling... He'd experience a nasty winter once or twice, but there was always a place he could go to stay warm...

Here... There was nothing. He was trapped in the world's Largest Freezer, the temperature dropping day by day... until...

...He could barely think... So much had happened... And where had he been? Goofing off with Sawa?

He should have been there... He should have helped Wada... Or Hayashi... or... Chiba...

...He didn't mean to start crying... He was just... so cold...

A little "Mrrp." briefly brought him out of his thoughts. Sawa wriggled her way into his arms, cuddling against him for Warmth. What little Warmth he had left...

...Was it even worth it to get up?

Nobody would care if he died from the Cold... If he went missing... Sawa maybe would get a few tears, but him?...

Harada looked at the bed side table, on it was a single pendant resting calmly... next to a newly taken Photo...

...Yukino... Hama...Chiba

...

He had to get up... He knew he did... It was difficult... Every part of his body didn't want to move, but he forced himself up. Sawa lept from his arms, now circling his feet as Harada made his heavy steps towards the door, still circled in his blanket.

He grabbed the doorhandle and pushed the door outwaard, a wave of cold air hitting his face. He forgot how many vents were out here...

With shuddering steps, he walked forward, expecting to be alone in the halls... Until...

"Keizou?"

Harada glanced up, and saw Ojima walking by, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Oh... Takeshi... Good Morning..." Harada says, putting on a weak smile.

"It's 1 o'clock in the Afternoon."

"O-oh... Is it? Sorry, I've been... trying to stay warm, I guess."

"Really? Cause you look like you're on the verge of Hypothermia..."

"...Sorry..."

"Don't apologize! Just... Look, let's find you a place to warm up, ok?"

"Warm who up?"

Another voice... Harada turned around... Chiba and... Him...

"Hama?" Keizou asked weakly.

"Harada!" Chiba shouts, rushing forward and wrapping Harada in a hug. Sawa lets out a few cries of joy as she nuzzles against Chiba's legs.

"H-hey Chiba..." Harada waves.

"Where have you been?! We've been looking for you all day! ...Well, you and Okazaki. But still!"

"I was just... curled up in my room again..."

"Again?" Hama asks. "Seriously, bro. You gotta stop doing that."

"I-It's fine... I'm out now."

"Yeah, but you look like a Popsicle." Hama sighs.

Before Keizou can react, Hama pushes Chiba to the side (Much to her annoyance) and wraps Harada in a hug, pressing his face directly against Hama's...

...Keizou suddenly felt a lot warmer...

"There... You feel warmer now? I tried to use my demon arm to heat up my core." Hama says.

Harada stays silent, his mind racing with thoughts, most of which he was sure were condemning him to hell.

"...Hello?" Hama asks.

"...Huh? Oh! Right! Yeah, that uh... that helped. Thanks." Harada says, feeling a bit more perky.

"Damn, one hug from Hama perked you up that much? I want one of those." Ojima jokes.

"Me too! I want a hug!" Chiba cheers.

"You already had your hug, Chiba. I only have so much heat to spare, even with my fiery arm." Hama complains.

"Awww!" Chiba huffs.

"Well, now that it seems we're all awake, any ideas on what we should do today?"

"I was thinking... Maybe we could use the Incinerators like a Campfire? We've got two of them, so if we split into two groups of six, we should be able to use them without too much crowding." Harada suggests.

"Oooh! Yeah! And we could grab some marshmellows, and Cookies, and Chocolate, and make some smores!" Chiba suggests.

"I could really go for a Smore right now." Hama says.

"Me too." Ojima smiles. "Anything else though? Not that your idea was bad, Harada, I just like exploring our options."

"Fair enough." Harada shrugs.

"...Maybe we could use the candles?" Chiba suggests

"Candles?" Hama asks.

"From the storage room! Hiroaki used them the other day to host a funeral for Sasaki. I think he might have done one for Kamimura and Hasegawa too..."

"Damn... The guy treats the dead better than he treats us." Hama says.

"It's not that... He just... has trouble expressing his meaning sometimes. You notice he was quiet as a Mouse all of Yesterday. And at Breakfast. He's trying..." Ojima says.

"I guess..."

"The candles sound nice though. Having a little flame to carry everywhere would certainly make the cold more bearable." Harada says.

"Then let's grab those first. We'll get the candles, and meet up with everyone in the cafeteria for the Incinerator Idea." Ojima says. "Chiba, where did Hiroaki host his... funeral?"

"In the Medbay!"

The group nods in affirmation as they follow the Child Star out to the Medbay. As they approach the door though, they notice something peculiar.

"Huh... The candles are lit?" Ojima asks

"Must be Hiroaki holding that funeral for Ken and Kazutoshi." Harada comments.

"But... it looks like there's someone inside... Laying on one of the beds..." Ojima mutters.

"Probably Hayashi then..." Hama says.

"She's gonna be real pissed when she finds out Hiroaki used her body in a makeshift funeral." Chiba says.

"Probably..."

As Ojima reaches his hand out to open the door, Harada suddenly got a feeling of dread inside him. It was like voices whispering in his head, telling him not to look... Telling him that he didn't want to see what's inside. However, out of Deadly Curiosity... He peeked inside nonetheless.

On the bed, surrounded by flowers, candles, and the stench of Medicine, Hiroaki was laying peacefully.

"The hell?" Ojima says

"Did he sleep here?" Hama asks.

"That's definitely a weird way for someone to sleep..." Chiba mutters.

"Yeah, wonder why he-"

Click

Bzzzzzzzzzzzt

...

The air vent... shut off

"Hang on... Did... Did the cold air just stop blowing?" Hama asks, his face starting to pale.

"But that's impossible... The only way Monomoko said she would shut off the air is if.... If..." Ojima's face turns from confusion to fear as his eyes widen.

"No... it can't be! No!" Chiba cries out, suddenly understanding the dread.

BZZZT

"Attention All Students..."

"Oh god... No no no no no no no." Ojima mutters, rushing over to Hiroaki.

"But he was.... There's no way he'd just..." Harada mutters.

"Hiroaki! Wake up! Nakamigawa! Please! WAKE UP NAKAMIGAWA!!!"

"A body has been discovered..."

(TO BE CONTINUED)