Helnik || GHOSTS OF OUR PAST

Helnik || GHOSTS OF OUR PAST

Timeline: Just after Crooked Kingdom, right before King of Scars

Prologue

masterlist // chapter 1

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The girl stood at the edge of the world, where the land met the sea and the past whispered secrets to the present. The wind carried the salty tang of the ocean, mingling with the chill of the approaching winter. She pulled her cloak tighter around her, seeking warmth against the cold that seemed to seep into her very bones. But no amount of warmth could thaw the icy grip of sorrow that held her heart.

The boy had been her enemy once, a hunter whose sole purpose was to capture and kill her kind. Yet fate had woven their paths together in the most unexpected of ways, turning hatred into love.

Now, he was gone, and the girl was left to pick up the shattered pieces of her life.

She had promised to take him home, back to the land of ice and snow that had shaped him into the man he had become.

"Wanden olstrum end kendesorum," she whispered to herself, her words carried away by the wind. "Isen ne bejstrum."

The water hears and understands. But the ice does not forgive.

Remnants of Ashes

masterlist

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1097

Summary: Gale Hawthorne, now a Peacekeeper in District 2, struggles to adapt to its ambitious, unfamiliar atmosphere while haunted by memories of Katniss Everdeen from District 12.

***

District 2 was a world apart from District 12, place of stone and metal rather than ash and coal. Gale Hawthorne tried to make this new district feel like home, but the familiarity of District 12's ruins haunted him. The bustling activity of District 2 felt foreign, the people here driven by ambitions and ideals so different from the grim survival that had characterized his old life.

Each morning, Gale woke with the sun. He dressed quickly, leaving his small apartment and heading out into the city before the streets filled with people. His role as a Peacekeeper was a pragmatic choice, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He told himself it was for the greater good, to help rebuild Panem—but deep down, he knew he was running from ghosts.

He was running from Katniss.

Katniss Everdeen. The girl on fire. The Mockingjay.

To him, she had been so much more than just a symbol.

She had been his partner in crime, his confidante, his closest friend. But the war had changed everything. They had changed, and now, she was a phantom pain, an echo of what once was.

***

It was a Sunday when Gale decided to visit the training fields. It was a place of order and discipline, filled with recruits who were eager to shape the new world. He watched them sparring, their movements precise and calculated, so different from the desperate skirmishes he had known.

"You're here early," a voice said, breaking his reverie.

Gale turned to see Lyda, one of the senior Peacekeepers, approaching him. She was a tall woman with a sharp gaze, her uniform crisp and spotless.

"Couldn't sleep," Gale admitted, shrugging. "Thought I'd come see how the new recruits are doing."

Lyda nodded, her expression softening slightly. "You still think about her, don't you?"

Gale's jaw tightened.

"Every day."

That night, Gale couldn't sleep. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the silence.

The nights in the woods with Katniss, the warmth of the fire, the shared stories, the unspoken bond between them. Those nights were gone, buried under the rubble of war and time...

He got up and walked to the window, looking out at the city. District 2 was thriving, rebuilding itself with a ferocity that mirrored his own determination. Yet, it felt hollow.

No amount of anything could fill the void left by Katniss.

Gale sighed and turned away from the window. He opened a drawer and pulled out a small, battered notebook. It was filled with sketches and notes, plans for traps and strategies. But between the lines of his meticulous handwriting were glimpses of another story— drawings of mockingjays, notes about hunting trips, fragments of poetry that he would never admit to writing.

He flipped to a blank page and stared at it. Slowly, he began to write.

***

Weeks turned into months, and Gale threw himself into his work. He trained recruits, devised new strategies, and worked tirelessly to ensure the safety of the district. He became known as a strict but fair leader, respected by his peers and subordinates. But despite his accomplishments, the emptiness lingered.

***

One evening, after a particularly grueling day, Gale found himself wandering the outskirts of District 2. The air was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the dusty heat of the city. He walked until he found a secluded spot, a small hill overlooking a valley. He sat down and let the silence envelop him.

"Hey, Catnip," he whispered to the wind. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I need to talk to you."

He paused, taking a deep breath. "I miss you. I miss us. The way things used to be before... everything. I know things can never go back to the way they were, and I don't even know if you'd want them to. But I can't help thinking about what we lost."

Gale closed his eyes, feeling a tear slide down his cheek. "I wish I could tell you this in person. I wish I could see you, hear your voice. But I can't. So I'll just keep talking to the wind and hope that somehow, you'll hear me."

***

As the seasons changed, so did Gale. He found solace in small things—a recruit's success, a well-executed plan, the beauty of a sunrise over the mountains. He began to accept that Katniss was a part of his past, a cherished memory that he would carry with him always.

One day, while sorting through his belongings, Gale found the notebook again. He flipped through the pages, smiling at the memories. When he reached the end, he saw the words he had written that first night in District 2.

"Katniss, if you ever read this, I want you to know that I forgive you. And I hope you can forgive me too. We did what we had to do, and we survived. That's all that matters."

He closed the notebook and placed it back in the drawer. It was time to move forward.

***

Katniss's POV:

Katniss stood by the rusted fence, the setting sun casting a golden hue over District 12. Memories of Gale flooded her mind. Unbidden. Unrelenting.

Gale.

The name alone caused a pang in her stomach.

His grey eyes, always intense, haunted her thoughts. The woods had been their sanctuary, a place to escape the harsh realities of their lives... their laughter, shared meals, and whispered dreams of a future free from the Capitol's grip.

Now, those dreams felt like distant echoes.

The fence, once a boundary she and Gale had often crossed together, now felt like a wall separating her from her past. Katniss ran her fingers along the cold metal, feeling the rough texture beneath her fingertips. Each ridge and rusted spot a reminder of times gone by.

A soft breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it the scent of pine and earth. She closed her eyes, breathing it in deeply, trying to anchor herself in the present. But it was no use. Her thoughts drifted back to the days when she and Gale would venture beyond the fence, into the wild, untamed woods where they could be free, if only for a while.

She could almost hear his voice, low and comforting, as he spoke of rebellion and hope. "Someday, Katniss," he had said, his voice filled with conviction, "someday things will be different. We won't have to live in fear."

But someday had come and gone. The rebellion had happened. The world had changed.

Beneath the Howling Moon

masterlist

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 937

Summary: It a Full Moon Night and Lupin has to go to the Shrieking Sack where he finds Sirius.

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The full moon hung heavy in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the grounds of Hogwarts. Remus Lupin felt the pull of it deep in his bones, a reminder of the monster lurking beneath his skin.

He had always been good at hiding his pain, his fear, but tonight felt different.

More intense. More desperate.

He walked the empty corridors, each step echoing like a heartbeat, until he reached the familiar wooden door of the Shrieking Shack. Pushing it open, he was met with darkness, the kind that swallowed everything whole. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, sealing himself away from the world.

Except, he wasn't alone.

"Sirius?" Remus's voice was a whisper, barely audible over the sound of his own breathing.

A figure emerged from the shadows, tall and lean, with a mop of black hair that fell into stormy gray eyes. Sirius Black, his best friend, his everything, stood before him, looking as tormented as Remus felt.

"I couldn't let you go through this alone," Sirius said, his voice rough with emotion. "Not tonight.

Remus swallowed hard, the familiar ache of longing mixing with the ever-present fear of losing control. "You shouldn't be here. It's too dangerous."

" I don't care," Sirius snapped, stepping closer.

"I care about you, Remus. More than anything."

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. Remus closed his eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. He felt Sirius's hand on his cheek, warm and steady, grounding him in the moment.

"I hate seeing you like this," Sirius murmured, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "I wish I could take it all away."

"You can't," Remus choked out. "This is who I am."

"Then let me help you carry it," Sirius whispered, his lips ghosting over Remus's. "Let me be here for you."

Sirius's eyes were filled with a fierce determination, a promise of unwavering support. He gently cupped Remus's face with both hands, his touch tender yet resolute. Remus felt the warmth of Sirius's palms seep into his skin, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. For a moment, they just stood there, breathing each other's air, their foreheads touching. The tension between them crackled like electricity, a tangible force that drew them closer.

"I've seen you at your worst, Remus," Sirius continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I've seen you at your best. None of it changes how I feel about you."

Remus's breath hitched, the weight of Sirius's words settling over him like a comforting blanket. He opened his eyes, meeting Sirius's intense gaze, and saw nothing but firm love and acceptance.

The air grew thick with unspoken emotion, the space between them charged with anticipation. Sirius's thumb traced the line of Remus's jaw, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down his spine. Remus's heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the silent plea he couldn't bring himself to voice.

"You're not alone," Sirius said softly, his breath warm against Remus's lips. "Not as long as I'm here."

Their mouths met in a desperate kiss, a clash of need and fear, love and anguish. Remus clung to Sirius, his fingers digging into his shoulders as if letting go would mean losing him forever. Sirius responded with equal fervour, his hands roaming over Remus's body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

They stumbled back, falling onto the rickety bed that groaned under their weight. Clothes were discarded in a frenzy, the need for connection overpowering everything else. Remus felt the heat of Sirius's skin against his own, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.

"Sirius," he gasped, his voice breaking. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," Sirius promised, his eyes dark with desire and determination. "I trust you."

Remus wanted to believe him, wanted to lose himself in the moment, but the fear was always there, lurking in the back of his mind.

Still, he let Sirius guide him, let himself be swept away by the passion that consumed them both.

Sirius's hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, and exploring every inch of Remus's body. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through him, a reminder that he was alive, that he was loved. He arched into Sirius's touch, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Please," Remus begged, his need almost painful. "I need you."

Sirius didn't hesitate, positioning himself over Remus, their bodies aligning perfectly. He moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust a promise of love and devotion. Remus's world narrowed down to the feeling of Sirius inside him, the pleasure building with each movement.

They moved together, a tangle of limbs and whispered words, their connection deepening with every touch, every kiss. Remus felt the tension coiling inside him, tighter and tighter, until it finally snapped, sending him spiralling into ecstasy.

Sirius followed moments later, his release punctuated by a guttural moan that echoed through the room. They collapsed together, a tangle of sweaty, sated bodies, their breaths mingling in the stillness.

For a long time, they lay there, neither wanting to break the fragile peace that had settled over them.

Remus felt a strange sense of calm, the fear that had gripped him earlier receding into the background.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

Sirius tightened his hold on him, pressing a kiss to his temple.

"Always."

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the cracks in the walls, Remus allowed himself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to face the darkness alone. With Sirius by his side, anything seemed possible.

Even love.

Well well.. let me summon you!

@padfoot-lupin77 @glassesgirlies @jazsplat @kanejbr3kker @idk-me3333 @clarissaweasley-10 @themaraudersaresogay @bigclownshoes @ramen8008

I don't think the problem here is feminist... TBH, before KoS and RoW even I disliked Zoya. But after KoS and RoW , it's like we got to know who she is. And for Kaz, we already came to know who he is right in SoC. So maybe, it's more like, we loved Kaz earlier , hence the superiority?

PS: my fav ships in the grishaverse: Kanej and Zoyalai

zoya ‘hatred’ is so insane to me because like. can we consider her life for a moment. sold by her own mother to be a child bride at age 9. groomed and manipulated in her younger years to serve only the darkling. loses the last person she truly loves (her aunt) when the darkling sets the fold on novokribirsk. watched countless friends and soldiers die during the war.

and you don’t like her because she’s ‘mean’? she’s better than me because if i suffered just one of the things she did, i would be WAY worse than a little mean and spiteful.

also, bear in mind, the same reasons people seem to give for not liking zoya - “she’s mean” “she’s rude to x” “she’s full of herself” are the exact same values they LOVE about male characters like kaz brekker.

Kanej || HOPE

Prologue

masterlist // chapter 1 —>

He gently put his gloved hand on her shoulders. A sense of warmth flew through her entire body. She felt loved, protected. He made her feel worthy. He was everything to her. Being around him gave her a sense of comfort, she could never express into words.

   The boy with the blazing pistols seemed to be drawn to the fragile heart. He had gifted her freedom, serenity......

Yet, he knew. He knew that she was only a mere figment of imagination and would slowly fade away. He knew that she was nothing but a sphere of illusion.