#( this is just posted at the centre of camp )

[estarion]

my birthday is in nine days. if you owe me a gift, i'll let you know in an addendum beneath this notice. shitty offerings will be set on fire and catapulted at your tent. thank you. — ASTARION.

[sanitizarium]

i should do another meet the artist its been a while.......i might do that while im out camping this week maybe :]

[iii-days-grace]

@ao3userglitchesaintshit

ach i had another mick post going but my dumb greasy baby will have to wait until it's not 2:00 AM where i am

[herlondonboy]

pretty when you cry, clarisse la rue

summary: based on this post by @kitten-reader

warnings: aphrodite’s kids are pricks lol, erm it’s really bad…

wc: 2.8k

your hair was something that you prided yourself on.

it was no doubt that you were beautiful beyond comparison to your fellow demigods, what with being the daughter of aphrodite. people couldn’t even compare you to your godly siblings.

you believed that your hair was the reason that your beauty was so great, so you natural worked hard on it.

in the world of olympians, you found solace and pride in the strands of hair that cascaded down your shoulders like a cascade of silk. your hair, a manifestation of your divine heritage, was more than just a physical attribute— it was a symbol of your identity and a testament to the grace and allure that came with being the offspring of the goddess of love.

from the moment you discovered your parentage, you embraced the inherent charm that ran through your veins, and it manifested prominently in your hair. unlike the messy, unpredictable tresses of some demigods, yours seemed to have a life of its own, obeying your whims and desires with a luxurious sheen that captivated those around you.

the secret, as you often shared with your fellow campers at camp half-blood, lay in the meticulous care you bestowed upon your locks. your morning routine became a sacred ritual— a blend of enchanted hair care products and divine techniques passed down through generations of aphrodite's children. a symphony of sweet-scented potions and ethereal brushes transformed the routine into a dance of beauty, each stroke accentuating the natural glamour that radiated from your hair.

you revelled in the attention your hair garnered, the way it shimmered under the sunlight as if kissed by the gods themselves. it became a beacon of confidence, a tangible manifestation of your divine heritage that set you apart from the sea of demigods at the camp. the other campers often marvelled at your ability to maintain such perfection, unaware of the divine secrets woven into every strand.

however, your relationship with your hair wasn't purely superficial. it served as a connection to your mother, a link to the goddess whose legacy you carried. the act of caring for it became a ritual that grounded you, a reminder of the divine blood that coursed through your veins and the responsibilities that came with it.

not unbeknownst to you, the envy and resentment simmered beneath the surface of the camp. the adoration and attention that accompanied your divine beauty fuelled the flames of jealousy among your fellow aphrodite siblings. little did you realise, being the favourite child of the goddess of love came at a cost, and that cost was the disdain of your own kin.

as you moved through the camp with the grace of a deity, your radiant hair attracting attention like a beacon, you, though aware of the hostile whispers that followed in your wake, chose to ignore. the other children of aphrodite, who were accustomed to being the centre of attention, couldn't fathom the idea of sharing the spotlight with someone they perceived as the golden child.

the jealousy manifested in subtle acts of exclusion and passive-aggressive remarks. your attempts to connect with your half-siblings often met with cold shoulders and thinly veiled animosity. the communal vanity table, where aphrodite's children traditionally gathered, became a battlefield of unspoken rivalry as they vied for the elusive title of the most captivating demigod.

yet, you, in your innocence, continued to extend kindness and friendship to those around you, oblivious to the resentment building in the hearts of your fellow campers. the intricate braids and enchanting hairstyles you generously offered to create for others only fuelled their frustration, as they struggled to reconcile the warmth of your gestures with the envy burning within them.

within the intricate dynamics of camp half-blood, one particular relationship defied expectations and unfolded with a complexity that left others bewildered. clarisse la rue, known for her brusque demeanour and a reputation that preceded her, stood as an unexpected confidante in your life. despite her gruff exterior and the scathing remarks she directed towards most campers, clarisse treated you with an unusual gentleness, and a unique bond formed between you two.

it all began during a chance encounter near the armoury, where clarisse, with her characteristic scowl, found herself inexplicably drawn to you. to the surprise of everyone witnessing the scene, her rough hands delicately traced the contours of your locks, as if handling a precious artefact. the camp's collective gasp echoed through the air, and it was then that an unspoken connection began to weave itself between you and the formidable daughter of ares.

clarisse, who seldom allowed others into her personal space, not only tolerated but seemed to relish the moments spent running her fingers through your hair. your shared interactions defied the logic of the camp's social hierarchy, leaving fellow demigods perplexed and intrigued by the peculiar alliance that had blossomed between you two.

as your friendship with clarisse deepened, it became apparent that her seemingly abrasive exterior masked a vulnerability that few had the privilege to witness. she confided in you about the weight of expectations placed upon her shoulders as the daughter of ares, the god of war. your hair, with its calming allure, became an unexpected refuge for her, a sanctuary where she could momentarily escape the demands of her tumultuous life.

in the quiet moments shared between you and clarisse, amidst the backdrop of a camp constantly on guard against mythical threats, an unexpected emotion began to stir— love. the kind of love that transcended the lines drawn by parentage and reputations. it was a love born out of understanding, acceptance, and the shared vulnerability that only the tumultuous world of demigods could evoke.

the camp, initially taken aback by the unlikely friendship, eventually came to accept the profound connection that had blossomed between you and clarisse. the daughter of ares, who once stood as an enigma wrapped in hostility, softened in the presence of your divine beauty and the solace found within the cascade of your hair.

as your feelings for each other deepened, the two of you navigated the complexities of love in a world fraught with danger. clarisse's protective instincts, honed on the battlefield, as well as in camp. together, you became an unlikely force, a symbol of love's ability to bridge even the most unexpected divides.

there was a time when a group of your own siblings, fuelled by jealousy and resentment, conspired to disrupt the tranquil rhythm of your bonds with your mother and girlfriend. one day, your prized possession, a hairbrush gifted by your mother, disappeared from its usual place. panic set in as you scoured the cabin, realising that this wasn't just a casual prank— someone had deliberately taken something sacred to you.

as whispers of the stolen hairbrush circulated through the cabin, the undercurrents of jealousy among your siblings bubbled to the surface. the mischievous culprits revelled in their act of sabotage, convinced that stripping you of this cherished item would somehow diminish the radiance that surrounded you.

it didn't take long for clarisse to sense your distress. the unspoken bond between you two had woven itself into a tapestry of mutual understanding, and she recognised the significance of the pilfered hairbrush. determined to right the wrong, clarisse took it upon herself to investigate the matter.

she confronted your siblings with an intensity that left them quaking in their sandals. her stern gaze bore into their guilt-ridden souls, extracting the truth like a seasoned interrogator. clarisse's usually thunderous voice carried a solemn edge as she demanded the return of the stolen hairbrush and an apology befitting the gravity of their actions.

unbeknownst to the misguided thieves, clarisse's reputation for ferocity on the battlefield extended to her protective instincts off it. the very fear she instilled in her enemies on the front lines was now directed at those who dared to threaten the tranquility of your connection.

under the weight of clarisse's unwavering determination, the guilty siblings caved. they returned the stolen hairbrush with bowed heads, offering apologies that bordered on genuine remorse. clarisse, satisfied with the swift resolution, ensured that justice prevailed, safeguarding the sanctity of the connection between you and the divine gift bestowed upon you by aphrodite.

as the stolen hairbrush was returned to its rightful place, the bond between you and clarisse strengthened. the trials you faced together only deepened the roots of your connection, intertwining your destinies in a tale of love, loyalty, and the unyielding power of shared vulnerability. in the heart of camp half-blood, where demigods navigated the tumultuous waters of existence, your story became a testament to the resilience of love against the currents of jealousy and deceit.

-

the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a fiery glow over camp half-blood, as clarisse la rue realised she hadn't seen you all day. a sense of unease settled in her chest, an unfamiliar concern that compelled her to seek you out. with each passing moment, her worry deepened, driven by a gut feeling that something was amiss.

clarisse traversed the familiar paths of the camp, her eyes scanning the bustling activity for a glimpse of your familiar figure. the ares cabin loomed in the distance, and a knot tightened in her stomach as she approached, not spotting you among the demigods sparring and training.

finally reaching the ares cabin, clarisse's unease morphed into genuine concern. where were you? why hadn't she seen you all day? the questions echoed in her mind, and she briskly entered the cabin, determined to uncover the mystery behind your absence.

there, in the dimly lit interior, she found you sitting on the edge of her bunk, your figure shrouded by a hood and a hat pulled low over your tearful eyes. the sight sent a ripple of worry through clarisse, and she rushed to your side, her gruff demeanour momentarily replaced by a genuine sense of care.

"hey, what happened?" clarisse asked, her voice softer than usual as she placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. your tear-streaked face turned towards her, and the anguish in your eyes tugged at her heart.

"they took it away," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. you repeated the words, a mantra of despair, and clarisse struggled to comprehend the source of your pain. "they took it away."

clarisse's brow furrowed, her eyes searching yours for an explanation. "took what away? what happened?"

with trembling hands, you reached up and pulled off the hood, revealing a mess of uneven strands that once cascaded in silky splendour. clarisse's eyes widened in realisation, her hand instinctively reaching to touch the shortened locks. the betrayal etched on your face told the story before you uttered a single word.

"they cut it," you sobbed, burying your face in clarisse's shoulder. "they cut it, clarisse. look at it, it's gone. all gone."

comprehension dawned on clarisse as she gently ran her fingers through the uneven strands. anger surged within her, a protective instinct for the one she cared about more than she ever thought possible. "who did this?" she growled, her gaze ablaze with fury.

you shook your head, unable to articulate the betrayal and cruelty that led to this moment. clarisse, however, needed no words. she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace as she vowed to make those responsible pay for the pain they inflicted.

in the sanctuary of the ares cabin, amid the echoes of your tearful revelation, clarisse became a pillar of strength, ready to stand by your side and face whatever challenges lay ahead. love, in its purest and most protective form, ignited within her, as the daughter of ares transformed into a fierce guardian of the broken and betrayed.

the night hung heavy with an air of tension as you cried yourself to sleep in clarisse's bed, the echoes of betrayal haunting your dreams. clarisse, ever the guardian, sat silently beside you, watching over your restless slumber. the flickering candlelight cast shadows on the determination etched into her face, fuelled by a fierce protectiveness that refused to be extinguished.

as your sobs eventually subsided into the quiet rhythm of sleep, clarisse rose from the bedside with a silent determination. in the dim light of the cabin, she retrieved her spear, its blade glinting with a subtle menace. the daughter of ares, had one mission— avenge you.

the night enveloped camp half-blood in a cloak of darkness as clarisse stealthily made her way towards the aphrodite cabin. the aura of the daughter of ares carried an intensity that reverberated through the quiet paths, heralding a confrontation fuelled by the depth of her feelings for you.

standing outside the cabin, clarisse's eyes narrowed with determination as she observed the shadows within. the miscreants who had dared to harm you needed to be taught a lesson—one they would not soon forget. gripping her spear tightly, clarisse pushed open the door, her gaze unwavering as she confronted your godly siblings.

the scene within was one of startled surprise as clarisse stormed into the cabin. her voice, usually thunderous on the battlefield, now carried a chilling calmness. "you touch her again, and i promise you, the consequences will be far worse than you can imagine."

the air in the cabin grew heavy with tension as the children of aphrodite, once filled with false bravado, now faced the unyielding force of clarisse's wrath. she recounted the pain you had endured, the tears that stained your face, and the betrayal that cut deeper than any blade.

in her hand, the spear gleamed ominously, a silent warning that spoke volumes. the children of aphrodite, their faces pale with fear, found themselves cornered by the very embodiment of wrath standing before them. clarisse's words echoed in the cavernous space, leaving an indelible mark on their consciousness.

with a final warning that carried the weight of a promise, clarisse turned on her heel, leaving the aphrodite cabin in her wake. the night embraced her as she returned to the ares cabin, a sense of satisfaction lingering in the air. the protective fire that burned within her had been unleashed, a fierce determination to shield you from further harm.

the following day, the morning light filtered through the windows of the ares cabin, casting a gentle glow over the space. you awoke with a heaviness in your heart, the memory of the previous day's betrayal lingering like a shadow. as you sat up in bed, clarisse entered the cabin, her eyes immediately locking onto yours. the weight of the night's events still etched on her features, but a newfound determination shone in her gaze.

"hey," clarisse greeted you, her voice softer than usual. she took a seat beside you, her hand gently resting on your shoulder. "we need to talk."

the air felt charged with a mix of vulnerability and strength as clarisse began to speak. "i know yesterday was rough, and i can't change what happened, but i need you to understand something." she took a deep breath, her eyes searching yours. "your beauty isn't defined by your hair. it's not just one thing that makes you pretty. it's everything."

clarisse began listing every part of you, her voice deliberate and unwavering. "your eyes– they hold a strength and depth that's beyond compare. your lips– they carry a warmth that can brighten the darkest days. your ears– they've heard laughter, pain, and everything in between. every part of you contributes to the unique beauty that is you."

you listened, the weight of her words sinking in, but doubt still lingered in your eyes. clarisse, undeterred, continued, "and, above all, it's your personality. your kindness, your strength, your resilience – that's what makes you truly beautiful."

a flicker of disbelief danced across your face, and clarisse recognised the challenge ahead. she persisted, her gaze unwavering. "say it. say you're beautiful because of your eyes, lips, ears, and every part of you."

you hesitated, the echoes of the previous day's betrayal still reverberating in your mind. "i can't- i can’t say that. not after what they did to me."

clarisse tightened her grip on your shoulder, her voice taking on a gentle insistence. "you need to believe it. it's not about them; it's about you. say it with me. you're beautiful because of your eyes, lips, ears, and every part of you."

it felt like a mantra, a repetition that tested the resilience of self-perception. clarisse didn't back down, patiently guiding you through each affirmation until the words became a declaration echoing within the walls of the ares cabin. "i'm beautiful because of my eyes, lips, ears, and every part of me."

as you repeated the words, something shifted within you. the doubt began to yield to the truth that clarisse so fervently believed. her unwavering support became a lifeline, anchoring you to a newfound understanding of your own beauty.

in that shared moment, surrounded by the strength of ares' cabin, you started to embrace the truth that beauty wasn't confined to a single aspect. it was a mosaic, a tapestry woven from the threads of every part that made you uniquely, undeniably yourself. clarisse, with her fierce love and unyielding determination, had become the mirror reflecting the truth you needed to see.

[12woso12]

The North Stand

Something a little different from my Dorothy in North London series, but don't worry, that's coming soon! If you have any requests for One Shots then just let me know!

You and your twin brother were referred to as Barca's wonder twins. He was a prolific striker for the men, and you a fearsome defender for the women's team. When your brother died tragically at an away game after colliding head first with a goal post, you leave Barcelona behind for the red and white of Arsenal.

When you have no choice but to return to the scene of the accident for a match, you insist it doesn't bother you. In reality, you're dying inside.

TW: Death, Mental Health

It was 6pm on a Friday when you first discovered you were needed at Anfield. Originally, the club had planned to leave you in London for the match despite your assurance to Jonas that you were completely fine.

It had been 14 months since he'd died.

14 months since your twin had been ripped from existence, stolen from you in one reckless moment of football. All for a stupid game.

A stupid goal.

A stupid league.

Football was so trivial now. Winning trophies would never outshine the feeling of sharing a drink with your brother. Playing in the Champions League would never live up to the memory of opening your stockings with him on Christmas morning.

Before his death, you would've given anything up for football. But now you'd give up football in a heartbeat just to speak to your brother once more. You were stuck in what had once been a dream career with only the memories of your brother to cling onto.

It seemed silly to ever think that you needed to give up everything for football. If anything, football owed you. It had taken away your other half. You couldn't even look at a Barca shirt, let alone watch a game without withdrawing into your bed for days at a time with the face of your brother fresh behind your eyes.

It had taken you a week to decide to leave Barcelona after his death. The noise around the entire situation was so loud. Fans had found your address and were leaving their condolences in the form of flowers and teddy bears at your doorstep, there was a televised tribute to him at Camp Nou where thousands of fans tuned in to grieve. Alexia had tried to convince you to attend but instead promised to attend for you after seeing your vulnerable state.

It was a touching tribute, not that you had watched it.

Within a month of the tribute at Camp Nou you had fled the country. Alexia had tried to understand, she really had, but her heart ached at your departure knowing that she'd failed in fixing your pain.

Arsenal was a good change. You already had friends there in the girls who played for England and you integrated well into the found family they'd developed at the club. At first, they'd tried to get you to speak about your brother, they tried to get you to show even an ounce of emotion surrounding his death but you had completely shut that part of yourself down. Instead you reverted to your old self. The person you were before the accident.

You cracked jokes with Beth and cooked tacos with Alessia in the evenings. You spent hours learning from Leah and took up pranking Kim and Steph in your free time. Kyra became one of your best friends and you moved in together after only a month.

Life at Arsenal was good, great even. It allowed you to breathe. You'd gone 14 months ignoring your grief and if you had it your way, you'd go the rest of your life without having to deal with it. But now, with Wubben-Moy and Codina out with injuries and Katie Reid away with England youth, Arsenal were asking the world of you: You would need to resume your usual role as a starting centre back alongside Leah.

Your brother had died in Anfield stadium. Now you'd be treading the very grass where'd he spent his last seconds alive.

'I'm so sorry to have to do this, Y/n' Jonas' voice rippled through the phone. You gripped it tightly, knuckles white to match the pale of your face. It was your own fault they were asking you really, you had just spent the last two weeks convincing that team that you'd be okay to play if needed.

'It's alright, Jonas. It's no biggie' You croak out. You could hear him sigh down the phone and you pictured his furrowed eyebrows lacing together in concern.

'Is Kyra home with you?' he asked. 'Do you need me to send Leah so you can have some company?'

'Jonas i'm okay, i promise'

'If you need someone to talk to you know our psychologists are fantastic...'

You shook your head furiously. 'I'm fine. I'll be at Colney first thing tomorrow to travel up with you guys'

'Okay.' he didn't sound convinced. 'Make sure you get some good sleep and i'll see you tomorrow'

As soon as Jonas ended the call you threw your phone across the room. It slammed into the wall opposite and clattered to the floor next to laundry that you were yet to put away. It wasn't usual that you got angry but sometimes it felt as though it were the only way to keep all your other emotions in check.

If you cried over your brother, you didn't think that you'd ever stop. You thought you'd be fine to play at Anfield but now it was actually happening, now that it was more than a distant horror, you'd never felt fear like it.

'Y/n?' You jumped at the sound of Kyra approaching your open bedroom door. You gave her a weak, unconvincing smile as her eyes flickered to the dent in your wall. It wasn't often that Kyra saw you as anything other than happy, sure she'd seen you upset after a loss or run down with illness but you'd always held her at arms length when it came to your brother.

It wasn't personal. You did it with everyone.

'Are you alright?' Kyra tiptoed into your room and hesitantly took a seat besides you on your bed.

'Jonas called' you tried to sound casual but the shake in your voice didn't go unnoticed by your best friend. 'I'm playing on Sunday, Codi got injured'

Kyra was silent for a moment before she gently placed a hand on your shoulder. 'You don't want to play?'

You shrug. 'Yes. No. I don't know.'

'That's alright, you don't need to be sure of anything right now' For someone known for her childish antics, Kyra had moments of maturity.

'I thought I'd be fine.' You cleared your throat. 'I will be fine'

Kyra slung her arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close. 'Just know that we'd all understand if you weren't'

You knew she was delicately skirting around the topic of your brother, not quite wanting to broach it but not wanting to let it go either. You felt vulnerable with Kyra, as though she saw straight through your closed facade.

'I just want this weekend to be over.' You squeeze her hand lightly 'Then everything will be okay again'

Kyra sucked in a deep breath. 'You never talk about him, you know.'

Black dots suddenly swarmed your vision. 'I can't Ky, I just can't'

'Okay' she said simply pressing a light kiss to your forehead. 'But if you ever have a moment, even a second, where you think you can then i'll be here'

You didn't get much sleep that night. Nor did you manage to eat anything. Time passed slowly as you tossed and turned in a patch of nervous sweat. You hated how emotional you were feeling, you didn't want it. You didn't need it. It was 3am when you eventually climbed out of bed to find Kyra in her own. As though sensing your presence, she opened her eyes slightly and shuffled over before pulling you down besides her.

It was a routine performed many times before.

Her quiet comfort let you sleep until dawn.

You were silent on the coach ride the following morning. You sat at a table of four with Kyra opposite Less and Vic who kept taking concerned glances at your abnormal state. You crossed your legs beneath you and tried to focus on the pile of cards you'd just been dealt. Normally, you were the champion of rummy but now you just couldn't focus enough to care. The only thing that had been running through your mind since you woke up was your brother's face.

His face on tv as he clattered into the post, ball flying well over his head. His face as blood poured from his hairline. His face as the life left his eyes. Just like that.

He'd died just like that.

Everything he'd ever loved and lived for gone. Just.Like.That.

You'd never felt pain like it.

That's why you had shut it out when you came to Arsenal. You threw yourself into your new life hoping that eventually the pain would dissipate but it hadn't, not even the tiniest bit. Instead it seemed to grow, every time you were reminded of your twin the lump in your throat evolved and the agony in your heart rattled loudly against your rib cage.

As you studied your cards, you locked eyes with Leah who sat besides Kim on the isle opposite. She had been keeping one eye on you since the beginning of the journey and you couldn't help but feel annoyed. Leah had taken you under her wing when you'd first moved to Arsenal having known you well from England but these past few days you'd withdrawn from her completely. You didn't want to give Leah the opportunity to ask if you were okay, because once she did you weren't sure you'd be able to hold yourself together.

It was late afternoon by the time the coach arrived in Liverpool and you were on an important hunt for food when Leah finally managed to corner you in the hotel reception.

'Hey' she grabbed your shoulder gently as you attempted to make a get-away. 'We need to talk'

'About what?' you said nonchalantly

Leah rolled her eyes. 'Don't, Y/n. I'm really worried about you. You shouldn't be here, why did you agree to play?'

'I'm fine Le. It's just another game.'

'No, it's not.' she bluntly reminded you 'At least not for you it isn't.'

Your heart was pounding so violently that you thought it might leap out from inside your chest. 'Can we please not do this?' You glance around the empty reception nervously, afraid of who might overhear the conversation.

'Go home, Y/n' Leah instructed as though she had any say in the matter.

You scoff at her brashness. 'No, who else is going to be able to play in place of Codi?'

'Steph would. We'd find answers' Leah said

'Steph hates playing Centre Back'

'It doesn't matter. She'd do it for you Y/n.'

You hated when Leah treated you like a kid. You weren't that shy seventeen year old on your first England camp anymore, you had outgrown the way she saw you.

'Leah stop. I don't need your help with this. I'm fine'

'You aren't fine' your captain argued 'You haven't been fine since moving to Arsenal and we all know it...you never talk about Ben'

At the mention of your brother's name, your brain seemed to short circuit. You stared incredulously at Leah, no one had dared to mention his name to your face in 14 months. Leah might've been the closest thing to family that you had but she had no right to bring up your brother in the way she had.

'Fuck you' You spat furiously and pulled away from Leah who gritted her teeth at your disrespect, looking slightly hurt. You strode away from Leah and into the lift, abandoning your hunt for food for the comforts of your hotel room where you'd remain for the remainder of the evening. You were glad to see that Leah made no attempt to follow you, although deep down a part of you ached for her comfort. But you didn't need her. Not really. As soon as the weekend was over you would apologise and things could go back to the way they were before where you weren't reminded of your brother's death at every waking moment.

Leah would understand. At least, that's what you hoped.

You sent Kyra a quick message to explain you were having a quiet evening and that you'd see her tomorrow and then locked your hotel door for the night.

You were fast asleep when you became vaguely conscious of a knocking at your door. Exhausted, you opened your eyes to glance at the time as the knocking persisted. It was only 10pm. Sighing you stumbled to your feet and dragged open the hotel door to see Kim staring you down, a stern look stretched upon her face.

'Good to know you're alive' she barged into your room before you had a chance to welcome her inside. She grimaced at the mess of clothes on your floor before turning to face you.

'I texted Kyra' You grumbled

'Sit down' Kim demanded

'What? Why?'

The Arsenal captain crossed her arms and waited for you to do as she said. Slowly, you lowered yourself back down onto the bed.

'Leah told me what happened'

You sighed 'It's not what it seems like'

'You need to let someone help you. You're struggling and you need help.' Kim watched as you shook her head and fixed your eyes on the ground.

'I'm fine'

'Don't bullshit me.'

'I'm not.'

Kim rolled her eyes. 'I don't know why you agreed to come, but you have nothing to prove Y/n. It's okay if you're still grieving, it's okay to be devastated, it's okay to feel these things. But what isn't okay is for you to push away the people that care about you.'

You said nothing.

'You don't need to speak to me about whatever is going on in your head but at least talk to Leah. Or Kyra or Less. Hell, the whole team is in your corner. You're going to end up in a dark place without paying into those relationships, okay kid?'

Kim put a finger beneath your chin and lifted your eyes to meet her own. You were beginning to crack under her harsh but ever caring gaze, a tear made its way down your cheek and Kim gently wiped it away.

'I'll apologise to Leah' you whispered 'After the game'

Kim hummed in disapproval. 'I'd rather you didn't play at all'

'Too late now'

'It's not' Kim countered 'But if you're really going to play then do it safely. Don't commit any dangerous fouls triggered by emotion and if you need to stop or get off the pitch then you tell me straight away, okay?'

You nodded compliantly. 'Got it'

Kim pulled you in for a hug before leaving you to your thoughts. You'd never get any sleep now.

The following day the match approached quickly. You spent the morning with Kyra, avoiding the older players as much as possible. Even on your team walk, as Kyra rushed off to prank Steph, you hung back with Vic as you watched Kyra drench Steph with a bottle of water - something that you would usually be involved in too.

And when you arrived at Anfield after lunch, you opted out of doing a pitch inspection with the rest of the girls who exchanged worried glances. Leah hung back in the changing rooms with you under the guise of needing to do a few exercise for her knee when in reality you knew she was only trying to keep an eye on you. As the team news was announced and the internet started buzzing at the knowledge that you'd be playing at the very pitch where your brother had died, you did nothing but sit and wait.

From the changing rooms, the fan chants could be heard loudly. It was clear that the Arsenal fans had eclipsed the turnout of those of Liverpool which came as no surprise. You sat in your cubby and tapped you foot to the tune of Lacasse's newest and, in your opinion, greatest fan chant yet. You felt strangely calm, at least calmer than you had done last night.

You were eager to get the match under way because as soon as it was over, you could get back to your North London bubble. The thought made everything a little easier and as you jogged onto the pitch for warm up you instinctively turned away from the end of the pitch where your brother had died. Luckily, Arsenal were warming up on the opposite side which you were almost certain Leah and Kim had planned. You breezed through your warm ups by keeping your head down and ignoring the pitiful gazes that staff members kept sending your way.

And no matter what, you didn't dare look toward the North stand.

Before you knew it, kick off was upon you. You stood besides Leah and took a knee at the first blow of the Ref's whistle. For the first half, Arsenal faced the pitch end that your brother had died at. You tensed each time the ball was crossed into the box and one of your teammates (namely Alessia) tried to put their head to it.

Ben had died trying to do the exact same thing. You felt as though you could throw up any second.

By the time half-time rolled around you were both mentally and physically exhausted which wasn't exactly a promising sign considering Arsenal were 3-0 up. You and Leah had worked seamlessly together to protect your goal but that didn't mean you hadn't given the occasional sloppy pass or let Kiernan slip by you one too many times.

You were playing well but everyone could tell that you were trapped inside your own head. Even the fans, who had been applauding you extra loudly all game, could be seen nervously watching you handle the ball with a lack of precision. And yet Jonas didn't take you off.

As you made your way out for the second half, Katie wrapped an arm around your shoulder and gave your hair a light ruffle.

'You're doing good, mate. Almost up. Then we can get the hell out of this shitty stadium' she gave you a smile of reassurance before running off into her position and you couldn't help but grin at the Irish woman's ability to always try and make light of a situation.

You kept your eyes away from the goalpost that had killed your brother as you stood less than 10 metres in front of it. Leah's eyes flickered nervously over to you as you fidgeted uncontrollably waiting for the whistle to blow. It was an artic day in Liverpool yet you felt as though you were sweating buckets, your legs felt like jelly as the second half finally got underway.

Deep in your chest, as Liverpool pressed high, you felt an overwhelming amount of grief. You were too close to the goal, too close to where Ben had taken his last breath. Everything was too close and you felt as though you were going to collapse from the weight of it all if you were made to take one more step toward the goal.

So, you did what you knew how to do best...You turned the grief into intense anger. As play progressed it was clear that your tackles were becoming riskier by the minute, you barrelled into poor Missy Bo Kearns around the 60th minute mark who fell to the floor clutching her leg in agony. You were fortunate to only receive a yellow card.

As the match drew to a close and you managed to keep a clean sheet, Liverpool took one last go at attacking in the 91st minute. The play was started by Taylor Hinds who managed to get the ball through Arsenal's experienced midfield and onto the foot of the striker. Without thinking, you swiped the ball out from under her legs and gained possession back to your own side. However, Liverpool's number 9 had fallen to the ground in the tackle and was dramatically flailing about.

'Get up, you're fine' You insisted at the girl. When she refused to move you grabbed her biceps and tried to forcefully remove her from the grass, much to her surprise. The girl pushed you away from her.

'What the hell y/n?' she yelled capturing the attention of the teammates around you. As the ref blew her final whistle and the stands erupted in celebration at Arsenal's win, you ignored it all and advanced on the girl.

It had all been too much. And this girl was providing you with the perfect opportunity to let your anger out properly. You shoved her backwards.

'What are you doing?' Leah's voice was suddenly in your ear, her arms wrapping around your torso in an attempt to restrict you access to the poor Liverpool player. Katie appeared by your side and began to shield you from the abuse the Liverpool team had now began to shout at you...but it wasn't as though you didn't deserve it.

Leah dragged you backwards as you thrashed around in her grip, still trying to get to the Liverpool player. Eventually, Leah got you into the tunnel and haphazardly shoved you into the nearest empty room that she could find.

'Are you out of your mind?' Leah exclaimed 'You can't be starting fights like that! You'll be lucky if the FA doesn't fine you!'

'I don't care about the goddamn FA, Leah! Fuck them.' you try to advance on the door but Leah blocks your way.

'You're not leaving this room until you calm down'

Your brain was running at a million miles per hour, all you could think about was how much you needed to punch something or else you were going to break. You lunged past Leah but she was too quick and way stronger than you. She grabbed your entire upper body in her arms and held you against her chest, your head beneath her chin.

'Stop Y/n' she breathed 'It's okay'

For a moment, time slowed. You tried to escaped Leah's grip, you really did. But there was something about the way she was holding you with so much care and concern that you suddenly went lip in her arms and finally let out a gut-wrenching sob. As your legs collapsed, Leah carefully lowered the two of you to the floor so you were positioned between her legs. Your sobs racked your entire body, the pain in your chest had broken out and had been set free after 14 long months.

Leah placed small kisses to the top of your head. She rubbed your arms in comfort and never stopped whispering words of reassurance. When you were still sobbing fifteen minutes later she only pulled you tighter into her chest and folded her legs over your own.

'I've got you' she assured you.

Part 2?

[livin4woso]

Breaking the media

Chapter 3- arrival

You had just arrived in spain when the news that you were leaving arsenal was spread the club hadn't said where you were moving to due to some timing issues and you hadn't done any Barcelona media yet. You looked through the comments as the fans speculated your next club and many wishing you well and hoping you would have stayed longer at the club. While all the messages were nice you knew it was the right call to move so as you stood in airport looking for what will be your ride to the training centre you see a sign with your name on it. After some great force of lugging your two suitcases along the airport by yourself you reached the drivers with a half smile "good morning miss y/l/n" he said reaching his hand out "morning nice to meet you" you said taking his hand a firmly shaking it. Just as you were about to grab your suitcases and begin dragging them back along to the car he took them out of your hands "let me take these from you" he said "oh its no bother really i can bring them myself" you protested but he was insistent.

The car journey wasn't as long as you had expected it to be as you sat scrolling through your phone almost laughing at the ridiculous rumors you could see through your phone even sky sports had started to make rumors. You had arrived at the training ground where a member off staff had met you and brought you to the hair and makeup chair "hola, buen dia miss y/l/n" said the women smiling at you "call me y/n please its more.. normal" you responded as she began her work adding a light coat of foundation and redoing your hair entirely. After 10 minutes you were ready and handed a Barcelona training kit and told this is what you would be taking your photos in I mean it made sense but you would have preferred to be in normal clothes.

You were whisked through the unfamiliar corridors passing room after room each one looking completely different from the other till you reached the media room which was set up with cameras lighting and the contract. Jona was waiting in a chair when you arrived and he immediately stood up "hola y/n so happy you decided to join us you are going to do wonderful things" he said kindly to you. As the next couple hours went by you spent most time taking photos and doing interviews when you were told it was tomorrow when you would meet the team and have a tour of the facility before joining training.

Once you were done you were brought to an apartment that had been furnished and paid from Barcelona as you clearly weren't old enough to pay for it yourself. It was nice,small yes, but it wasn't cramped. You had put away all your clothes when you saw that it had been officially posted you were now a culer and all the media from that day had been posted and as you expected it.You had done it 'y/n y/l/n has transferred to Barcelona for an undisclosed fee' was printed all over social media for a moment it felt like everyone in the world was talking about you.

You woke up the next morning and the apartment was conveniently a 10 minute walk to the training ground because you couldn't drive so walking was the next best thing. The spanish sun was hot on your skin you hadn't been out of england for a long time minus for England camps which weren't very frequent or very long. You had arrived at the training ground 5 minutes early but that didn't matter. You were again greeted by jona the two of you making small talk as you walked towards the pitch, now the anxiety had kicked in you were 16 and going to meet your idols all at once, what if you nade a fool of yourself in front of the team or they dont like you and just to top of the list you knew not one word of Spanish minus hola. The training ground was nice it was decked out with perfectly cut grass and box nets you looked over to see the team training away not even noticing your presence as they were so focused in a drill that until jona called them over they were in there own world. "CHICAS, YOUR NEW TEAMMATE HAS ARRIVED" he shouted across the pitch when each of the girls looked over to you and began to walk towards you, each meter they passed you could feel your heartbeat move quicker. Now you were young but you weren't challenged size wise at 16 you were 5,8 making you quite the impressive feat and one that was taller than quite a few girls on the team. From a mile away anyone could tell you were a defender tall, broad shoulders, hair tied neatly in two plaits, it was obvious.

It was the captain alexia who had been selected to talk to you first " hola, ive heard good things about you y/n" she said kindly almost in a parental tone, a tone which some sould have found to be insulting yet it brought you a sense of comfort. Each of the girls took there time chatting to you, some getting more confused by your accent and led you to having to say things much slower so the others can understand what you were saying. When last it came to kiera and lucy the fellow English on the team "well well if isn't y/n" lucy said almost grimacing "what lucy, you're not happy to see me" you said back "of course" she said wrapping her arm around you as keira did the same you had known the English girls had been told you were coming by leah but you didnt know that they had been told to keep your eyes on you but so was mapi and alexia however from jona. It was lucy who had taken you on the tour around the place "nice innit, and the weathers lush as" she said "yeah definitely, its a change from arsenal but god is it like a different world from sunderland" you said although you had lived in North london for 3 years your north east accent hadn't changed at all you were still a northern girl at heart and one that surprisingly faired well under the sun.

"Well then i bet we better head off back home" lucy said taking you back to the exit "yeah definitely especially before it gets too dark" you said as you began to walk off to your apartment "where are you going? Aren't your foster parents picking you up" she questioned as from what she has assumed you were living with a family "ermm home im walking back to my apartment its only 10 minutes" you said as you began to speed up a little away from lucy. "An apartment you're 16 you can't live alone" lucy remarked but by then you were gone you, she threw her hands in the air and sighed as she knew she needed to have a talk with barca management because you couldn't live alone but you had ran home to make sure lucy couldn't see where you went as you didn't want to make a scene or deal with lucy scolding you.

As you opened your front door you locked it back up and crashed into bed the jet lag from the plane had crashed into you but you knew you needed to shower and make dinner but you had no food what so ever, how you wished someone could make you some home cooked food. So like a sensible person you ordered in food and showered while waiting and just as you had changed into your pjs the food had arrived. It was just a simple pizza but god was it tasty. You ate every last crumb and put the box on your counter to put it in the recycling you climbed into your bed and let tiredness slip over you.

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part one

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 3.2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee

the song in this chapter is "Second Child, Restless Child" by The Oh Hellos !!

a/n: heyyyy part one here we are!! i was going to post requiem first BUT the second part of btk s2 came out today so i couldn't resist posting this first :) playlist will be up very soon too!! hope you guys enjoy!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

It was muggy outside when Billy tied up his horse, and even hotter inside the saloon when he entered through its creaky swinging doors.

It was his current life as a bit of a lone wolf that brought him to this town he stumbled across by mistake, in search of a place to camp the night or ideally- a warm bed, but unsure if that was in the cards for him tonight, he decided to grab a drink instead.

He could hear the music before he saw the band, considering the whole town had apparently turned up to hear them play. Or, it was a Saturday night and no one had much of a better idea of what to do. He wasn't sure, until over the loud chatter and obnoxious shouts of men at the bar he could make out the sweet, damn close to angelic tones of the lead singer.

She was beyond anything he had ever seen, when he finally got a look at the owner of that beautiful voice, his blue eyes lit up in the dim light of the saloon. He flicked up the brim of his hat to get a better view as he leans back against the wall, absolutely mesmerized by the rapid pace at which the young woman's fingers strum over the strings of her guitar with expert precision.

"They saw trouble in my eyes, they were quick to recognize the devil in me."

With every word she sang, the smile he had to resist threatened to make itself seen. He could see the trouble in her eyes, even as they scanned the room- crinkled from the grin on her cheeks. It took Billy a few moments to even register that she wasn't the only one up on that old wooden stage- she wasn't the only one playing.

It surprised him even more when he tore his eyes off her to actually take notice of her band, that it was comprised almost entirely of children. Other than her and one boy behind her with light hair and hauntingly dark eyes who was dedicated well enough to his bass, none of the others seemed to be over fifteen.

A boy and a girl, who seemed to be just about the same age side by side playing little hip drums, and a blonde girl on a fiddle who appeared to be just a few years younger than the beautiful young woman taking up front and centre.

The smell of cigar smoke hits Billy's nose and brings him back to focus on where he was. He's not the only one watching this performance, as much as he felt the tunnel vision pulling him in on the girl with the skirt that spun almost as prettily as she did while she danced to her own music.

Completely lost in the song and the noises of the bar, she does a spin holding firm onto the guitar slung over her shoulder. Her hair flares out around her the same way her skirt does, and she has to steady herself as she stops, facing the old and abused microphone again to continue with the next verse.

"Can you hear it hanging on the wind? Can you feel it underneath your skin?"

Her eyes lock with Billy's as she looks around, the wide smile on her face hardly faltering even as his heart quits for a moment. She gives the man with striking blue eyes a small nod, not missing a beat of the song she was singing.

She was absolutely breathtaking to him. His eyes were stuck on every movement she made, every note she sang, and every word she uttered. He had seen pretty women before, but there was something about this girl that was different.

He couldn't help but notice how well she carried herself; with such confidence, and there was also a certain charm to her little nod as her eyes met his. The song and dance of the band were captivating, but his eyes were glued to her.

He raised up one eyebrow and gave her a little smile as he tilted his head curiously. Her voice somehow gave him a sense of home he hadn't felt since his ma passed. A sweet comfort he hadn't had in years.

He was being crazy, he knew as much- so he shakes his head of the feeling and peels himself off the wall to head over to the bar.

When the song was done, your chest was rising and falling heavily as you smile out at the crowd, waving to a few people before moving to set your well-loved guitar down.

"That's all we've got for y'all tonight. Thank you for listenin' to us take up your space tonight, but I sure hope at least a couple of y'all enjoyed it." You say into the mic with a smile, letting out a slight laugh as the crowd does with you.

"My name is Y/N and this is the Covey, and on behalf of all of us, have a good night! But not so good you don't make it home safe." You wink, signalling the end of our set and giving a quick bow to the crowd before stepping back to pack up.

Despite the shouts from saloon-goers and the usual sounds of the space echoing through, it seems quieter now to Billy without her beautiful voice, and he watches until her guitar case is closed and she passes it off the stage to her older bandmate who was helping collect the instruments.

As a matter of fact, he was staring into his whiskey and debating on whether or not he should even bother trying to talk to her when he's blessed by hearing her pretty voice again.

"Excuse me, miss!"

She's calling out to the busy bartender, leaning over the wood surface and resting her arm across it in front of her.

Now or never, Billy supposed.

"You've got quite the voice," He comments, voice rich and dripping with his unique mish-mash of accents- never having quite committed to one from moving around so much in his youth. "I'd wager you could melt even the coldest of hearts."

She turns her head to look at him, giving up attracting the attention of the barkeep. Up close, her eyes pull him in deeper.

"I'm Billy." He continues, extending a hand to her. It was out of character for him immediately- to offer up his name to someone he'd just met without them asking, but something about her made him unafraid to do so. Or... it was the unfamiliar jitters of nerves lowering his inhibitions.

A smile tugs at your lips as you quickly look him over, recognizing him as the man who had been leaning against the back wall while you were performing. You give his hand a quick and polite shake before responding.

"Y/N." You introduce yourself with a smile, despite having just done so on stage. "Was your heart cold 'til tonight then, Billy? Is that what I'm hearin'?"

"It was pretty cold." He admits, laughing. "But it seems like I've stumbled across just the fire to warm it up."

He looks you over again subtly, taking in how you still seem almost a little breathless from the performance you had just finished. It's interrupted by you laughing, shoulders shrugging as you adjust your top a bit, rolling up your sleeves.

"That's a good one, I must say." You giggle, shaking your head.

"Thanks, came up with it myself." Billy chuckles, mindlessly tapping at his almost empty glass. He figured he should at least come by it honestly if you were going to pick up on him so quick. "Tell me something, though. You're not from here, are ya? What brought you in? This isn't exactly the centre of the entertainment industry."

You look around at his final statement, nodding a bit in agreement. "Well, we're musicians by trade- travel about as we see fit. We're not really... city folks." You answer, looking back over your shoulder toward your band as they pack up and the kids play around on the stage.

"I hear that." Billy agrees, following your gaze. "Cities are too cramped for me."

"A bit of fresh air is good for the soul." You hum as you watch little Harvey and Josie chase each other around and behind the wooden stage and Max tries to wrangle them up. Business as usual.

Billy smiles as his eyes drift from the kids back over to you, letting your statement settle in before he spoke again. "Could I buy you a drink?"

You turn back to him again and nod, your smile returning in full. "I was waitin' for you to ask." You grin, waving again for the bartender who this time sees you and begins to make her way over.

He's a little shocked by your confidence in eagerly accepting a drink, but it just makes him more intrigued as he tilts his head at you. "Alright, then, darlin', what's your poison?" He asks, sliding over his glass and nodding to the woman running the bar for a refill of his whiskey.

"Water with a shot of warm honey aside, if ya got it." You smile to the bartender instead of answering Billy directly. "Please and thank you."

You had always had men offering to buy you drinks after your little shows, this wasn't anything new, but you always found a little bit of fun in seeing their subtle reactions to you ordering your water. Sometimes disappointment, occasionally even anger- but this Billy was the first one to ever smile.

"Well ain't you a fancy one." He chuckles, a small smirk on his face as his glass slides back to him over the countertop and he takes it with a nod of thank you to the woman behind the bar. "You one of those religious temperance girls?" He asks, purely out of curiosity.

Your nose scrunches up in response to the thought alone and you shake your head. "Nah." You take the cup of water and the shot glass full of warm honey from the bartender and thank her again quietly. "Just a girl who's overindulged herself one too many times."

Billy takes a sip of his whiskey and nods, watching curiously as you take the honey shot and lick the sweet liquid off your lips delicately.

In theory, that sounded so messy- but you handled it with such grace it honestly could have blown his mind. You must do that often.

"A bit of restraint never hurt anyone." He agrees, watching you dip your finger into what honey clung to the inside of the tiny cup and lick it off your finger before taking your first sip of water to rinse it down. "Hell, sometimes I could use more myself."

You shrug and let out a small laugh at his little joke, looking over at him again and smile as the sounds of the bar are swallowed by the invisible bell jar that seems to have engulfed you both.

"You, uh..." Billy speaks again after a moment, shaking his head a bit to clear his mind. "That song, you write it?"

"That I did." You smile proudly, nodding.

"Ah," He nods, spinning the glass on the counter in front of him. "So, I should ask, do you really have the devil in you?"

The reference to your lyrics makes you smile more and you shrug, taking another sip of your water. "I'd sure hope so." You tease. "I sold my soul to him in an even exchange for our music."

"So your voice is the devil's work, hey?" He laughed, sipping at his glass of whiskey once again.

He took a moment to study you, the way you wiped the inside of the shot glass clean with one delicate finger and licked it free of the stickiness. It drove him crazy just to look at you.

He leaned in a little closer as he continued. "Or are you saying that the whole you is the devil's work? Because I'd agree that you're certainly a little bit of trouble. As the song said, of course."

"That's certainly what I've heard." You giggle, shrugging softly as you put the empty shot glass down. "But I promise you I get into no trouble. We keep to ourselves, The Covey and me."

He smiled at you, the hint of mischief that danced in your eyes, that smile on your face sending chills up his spine.

"Well," He says, leaning in close to you, "You know what they say. The best things in life are dangerous. At least, I'm sure I've heard that somewhere." He chuckles a bit and it comes across with a hint of nervousness as he leans back away from you, not wanting to come across as too forward.

"Says the man with a gun on his hip and two in his coat." You say with a small smirk, nodding toward the inside of his jacket where he had hidden weapons.

He chuckled, admiring your perceptiveness.

There was an understanding about you, one that he was coming to enjoy. It was a quality that was hard to put his finger on.

All he knew was what he had at first glance; a gut instinct about you that screamed, "this will be worth it."

He took another sip of his whiskey, his eyes glued to your own. "You notice everything."

"Trick of the trade." You shrug, bringing your glass up to your lips again and not looking away from him either.

"What trade?" He asks with a slightly confused laugh. "Does singin' come along with a lot of gunfights or..?"

For the first time while interacting with men at these saloons all across the country, you laughed at one of their jokes. For the first time, it was genuine.

It even catches the ears of your band, who give each other confused but knowing looks as Billy's eyes light up with your laughter, knowing he prompted it to fall from your beautiful lips.

"I didn't take you for a funny one, Billy." You admit after a moment, still giggling as your hand comes up to cover your mouth.

"You've got a cute laugh," He said honestly, almost without realizing he'd said it out loud.

He sees your band mates in the corner of his eyes, watching the interaction unfolding before them, and smiled just a little more. He wanted the whole damn saloon to see that he was winning you over right in front of their eyes.

"I could have the worst laugh in the world and you'd still compliment it. You can't trust a man who's tryin' to charm your skirts off." You say, laugh devolving into giggles as you tip your glass toward him.

"Oh, and here I thought my intentions were genuine, and not just to get in your skirts," He said, laughing again. "Is that what you think I am, some kind of creepy bastard with ill intentions?"

You raise an eyebrow at him, surprised that when it's falling from his lips- you actually believe the denial.

"Men often lose themselves in pursuit of provisional pleasures." You comment, tilting your head at him. "It makes it hard to tell when once in a blue moon there's one who means what they say."

He was intrigued. Not necessarily by the comment itself, but more by the intelligence behind those pretty eyes of yours.

He was usually able to play these kinds of games easily, but you seemed to see right through them at every turn.

"Fair play." He says, giving you a nod of acknowledgement, "How do I know I'm the first man you've told that exact little poem to?"

"You just have to trust me." You say with a small smile. "If it helps, I wrote every word in those songs you heard earlier. I only speak when I have somethin' to say, and singin' is much of the same. You don't gotta believe me, but I'll tell you now it's not your wisest move to imply you don't think I'm smart enough to own the words I speak."

He couldn't deny that he had a weak spot for pretty, assertive women. But you were sweet, too, covered in it like the honey you just shot back a few minutes ago.

Those words, that tone, spoke volumes to him.

His lips curled up in a grin, and the tone of his voice took on a slightly more flirtatious edge. "I guess I should just count my lucky stars then. You don't happen to write songs about sweet talking men you meet in nowhere towns, do you?"

"Only about how they're venomous without the correct antidote on hand." You say, leaning against the counter and shifting your weight onto one hip.

He chuckles, his eyes glued on yours, not looking away.

God, he was in trouble.

The alcohol was making him cocky, but he couldn't help the way you made him feel. "And what if I came to you, hat in hand, asking for a cure? Begging you for a cure, because I'd been bitten by this sweet speaking cowgirl who's left me weak at the knees?"

"I'd tell you the nearest damn thing to anti-venom is just to run." You advise him, taking another drink before putting the glass down and sliding it across the bar. "And you'll find the real thing in the next dead end town you call a home, and then the cycle begins again."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Damn it, she had him. He couldn't even argue with that one.

He wanted to kiss her so bad right now, respectfully, of course, but he knew he should wait for some kind of signal from her. So instead he played it cool, grinning back at her.

"Okay, okay. What if," He said, watching with a smile as you raised an eyebrow at him over the edge of your glass, waiting for him to continue while you polished off your water. "And I'm just saying hypothetical here, theoretically, if he promised to stay in that next dinky ass town for a month just to see the woman he fell for again?"

"Then that would make you a fool." You answer. "Theoretically, of course." You add with a wink, standing up straight again.

You wanted to stay, to talk until last call and learn all his secrets- but you knew better than to fall for it all.

"Well, it sure was nice to meet you, Billy."

His heart drops at the words and he sighs, his expression softening as he saw you standing up from the bar.

He should keep it casual, he reminded himself. Be nice. Don't mess this up.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, darlin'." He stood up again slowly, his eyes lingering on yours for a few seconds, before he spoke again. "I hope we run into each other again, if only for a moment. Take care of yourself, Miss..."

"I don't doubt we will." You smile, giving him a small punctuating bow as your bandmates wave you back over.

You glance back at him over your shoulder as you walk away, giving him one of your winning smiles before picking up your guitar case and following your friends out the back door.

Billy stood there in the saloon for a few moments, watching you go with a wistful, almost regretful look on his face.

There was something about you that made him want to do stupid things.

"Run after her," his other half shouted. "I don't care if you look like a damn fool."

But he just stood there, like a damn fool, until he finally shook his head and muttered to himself. "Damn it."

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[ivys-garden]

My head cannon endings for all the Hilda cast post finale (Spoilers for season 3)

Astrid

She remains in her home, never moving away. However she makes sure to visit Hilda often, which has become easier now that she's learned to fly again. She also doesn't get to lonely as she invites the Pooka to like with her and helps him practice shape shifting. When she dies she is buried where the fairy mound once was to be closer to her family.

Raven

He travels the world but always returns to Trollburg, on cold winter nights he joins Hilda and her family for tea and games, maybe the yule lads join in too. On his travels he spreads the story on Hilda far and wide even long after she's gone.

Tryla & Baba

They remain at the mountain most days but do ecompany Hilda on adventures during her weekly visit. They still live there long after everyone else is gone, telling tales of Hilda to the next hundreds of generations of trolls.

Anders

He continues living in Trollburg, working on wall and city maintenance with the bellkeeper. He never gets back together with Johana but he does try and be a better dad to Hilda, including taking her on that camping trip.

Johana

Begins selling her paintings to people, she also starts painting things from her and Hilda's adventures, including the Fae Ilse, which she still thinks about often. When she dies Hilda burries her at the fairy mound with Auntie Astrid, but she keeps a lock of her hair in a locket. One day, in the far future when Hilda has finally moved on she hangs that locket at the remains of the cabin.

Tontu

Just keeps doing what he does mostly. Going on adventures with Hilda occasionally but mostly keeping to himself. He remains in the house for a long time, even after Hilda had died.

Alfur

Keeps writing reports for the northern counties but he also begins working with Gerda and the safety patrol, his days are busy but that's how he likes them. When he dies, if elfs even do, he would be given a funeral pyre by the lost clan and Hilda returns to the northern counties to scatter his ashes.

Louise

Would go on many more adventures with the trio and would start to develop a crush on David, one that David would reciprocate. She would eventually become a wildlife photographer.

David

Started researching entomology and now runs an insect focused wildlife centre near the sparrow scout building, enjoying a more peaceful and quiet life than most of his friends. He also assists the linworm in a construction of a new garden on sparrow scout property, sometimes the two of them and Louise have tea together. He was the first to die out of the four and was buried in Trollburgs graveyard, later Louise would be buried with him when she died.

Frida

Finished her training and became a fully fledged witch. She would take over running the Trollburg library from Kaisa after Kaisa was appointed to the witch council. When they were teenagers she and Hilda started dating but they never decided to get married.

Hilda

She still goes on adventures in her teenage years, it wouldn't be Hilda if she didn't. She and Johanna also practised flying with their fae magic. She always makes sure to keep in touch with Astrid and Victoria. She continues to paint and make music and becomes a freelance artist like her mum. Twig also grows big enough to ride when he gets older. She lived in her apartment in Trollburg until her death. She and Frida were buried together at the overgrown remains of the cabin

Woodman

He's still there, deep in the woods. even after everyone else has long since died, perhaps he tells the tales of a mysterious blue haired friend to spirits to the passersby.

Or perhaps he would tell you that if you walk deep enough into the woods, you could find an old forest glen where a cabin once was, and you can speak to her spirit yourself

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

6 - King and Queen in the North

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 10.4k

Warnings: Angst/hurt comfort, slow burn, discussions of warfare, strained parent-child issues, mild mentions of blood and violence, smut, oral (m receiving), slight dom/sub dynamics, consensual degredating langauge, symptoms of post coital sub drop, secret relationship, unexplained nightmares

Notes: Robbs campaign in the Westlands begins now. Disclaimer, I am not a war expert so if you are, just don't read into it too closely. Series Masterlist Here.

Men in the camp all spoke of different stories to explain it, some fantastical, some of ominous warning and many in their spare moments keeping their eyes peeled to the sky following the slow moving streak of red. The tip of it burned brighter almost as an orange or yellow that deepened in colour as it stretched into a striking red tail. It appeared in the bright sun of the daylight it seemed many days ago and it had barley moved along the skyline as it peeked into the night. The moon was barley visible in comparison, the red comet burned so bright that it demanded all of the skies attention. 

Now in the dark of the night, it was much more the centre of talk and yet as you walked through the camp you paid it no mind. Olyvar Frey to his credit, was trying very hard to be a dutiful squire to the King in the North and he seemed to show you a similar level of respect. Yet as you heard his squeaky voice shouting, you felt a tinge of annoyance in your chest. You would like just one singular night that would allow you any sleep. “Your grace,” 

Turning to see him, he paused in front of you, leaning his hands onto his thighs as he huffed out, “Your grace, my apologies, I,” taking another breathe he hoisted himself up and straight as he held out a raven scroll. “A raven came in urgently for the King.” 

Grabbing it, you glanced at the unbroken wax seal to see that of a Stag. Heart picking up a small bit, you nodded a thanks to the squire and he took a moment before realizing you were waiting for him to take his leave. 

There was much getting used to now, this new title. The Northmen respected you as their Queen as much as they did when choosing Robb Stark as their King. You had stood beside him, fought beside them as he did, and knew the North as well as any foreigner could. You had knelt and pledged in front of his men, that you vowed more then that of a wife’s love to him but your sword and loyalty. Even when it would mean standing opposite of your own father. 

You could only wonder just how he had taken it, learning of your allegiance, that these people called you Queen in the North. Now with a letter in your hands to the King you knew him well enough that Stannis Baratheon was not one to broker peace after being insulted so. Coming to your own tent, you could see that Robb had barley gotten inside before preoccupying himself with the papers in front of him. 

So much so, you seemed to have not even been noticed. “Your grace.” Robb having propped part of his head up by a closed fist with his elbow perched on a table, he raised up quietly with narrowed eyes until they flattened out to an amused smirk. “I know a King such as yourself is ever so busy, but pray tell could he spare a few moments for a girl such as myself?” 

Standing up, the smirk grew to a more wolfish grin as he stepped towards you. Slow, purposeful steps that made you feel like the prey before he stood tall over your leaning his face into yours. “For such a pretty one, I have more then a few.” Two fingers pulled your face up to his from under your chin, as he pressed his lips gently to yours. His other hand moving up to find the back of your neck, but finding you pulling back before he had the chance. 

One hand on his chest plate, he glanced down to see what the other was holding. His eyes narrowed more in question, before you turned it in your fingers so he could see the sigil. You found the others eyes, him pulling you in further away from the entrance. He leaned back against the table, using one hand to pull you to stand between his legs so he could keep his touch at your waist. “What’s it say?”

Raising an eyebrow, “It’s for the King in the North.” 

Robb only shook his head in a slight no, running one hand smoothly up and down your waist to hip and back. “And you are my Queen, which means what I know, I want you to know too.” It still took getting used to even from him, “Read it for me.” 

If you took a deep breathe no doubt it would come out shaking, instead you let your lungs burn as you unveiled the writing. Not in your fathers own hand, but it was indeed in his words nor was it addressed to one person. Th contents though, made you raise your eyebrows in surprise. Whatever ideas the realm had of this war before, certainly they knew now. 

“To the High Lords of Westeros, all men know me for the true born son of Steffon Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End, by his lady wife Cassana of House Estermont. I declare upon the honour of my house that my brother Robert, our late King left no true born issues of his body. The boy Joffery, the boy Tommen, and the girl Myrcella being born of incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. By right of birth and blood, I do this day lay claim to the Iron Throne of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Let all true men declare their loyalty. Done in the Light of the Lord,”

For a brief second, your eyes narrowed at the wording in a mix of confusion and then to a distant concern. All which were not missed by Robb as you continued. 

“under the sign and seal of Stannis of House Baratheon, the first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the realm.” Your voice trailing out by the end with a mixture of acceptance and yet frustration in it’s sound. 

Robb pulled one hand back open as you handed it to him to scan over for himself. Your own hands now free, found themselves resting gently along the side and back of his neck. “It seems he’s not willing to make the same mistake.” Glancing up to you with a knowing look, “The whole realm knows now.” 

Robb meant no offence and you knew that. His father and you had made a few too many of them in both of your failing confidence in allies. Ned Stark, having sent one of his men to give a letter detailing the truth in the wake of Robert’s death meant for Stannis and only Stannis. Your own father however, seemed to think that no such subtly was required. “He wants everyone to know if you oppose him, then you’re opposing the one true King.” Your words a bit more pedantic then calm. 

There was no doubt when you chose to stand by his side what this meant for your family. It meant that now two of you were pulling the remains of the Baratheons apart, but before you could look to Robb, your men, and the united front that the Lannister forces how three times could not keep up with and ignore it. Now however? There was no more room to pretend otherwise. 

Robb would be considered a usurper, and you a traitor. At the least the punishment was the same for both crimes, but the once idea of your heads on spikes were whispered to be something new. Something this letter only added validity to such rumours. Robb gently calling your name, getting you to look him in the eye. “There is something else, something I wasn’t sure of until this.” Your fingers tapping at the letter. “He had said in the Light of the Lord,” 

“He did,” Robb watching carefully as you tried putting pieces together. 

Your nails lightly scratching at the ends of curly hair at the back of his neck almost like a nervous tick needing to fidget with something. “I’ve been hearing things from Dragonstone. About my father and mother.” 

It weighed in your chest unsettled and uncomfortable enough that you pulled out of Robb’s touch entirely as the feeling closed in on you. Choosing instead of sit back against the surface next to him as one arm draped across your stomach and the other with your fingers curling up against your lips. “My family has never exactly been considerably dedicated to the Seven, as you likely could tell.” 

A lightness in Robbs eyes glazed over as he looked at you, “Aye, considering there is actually a small sept in Winterfell and you never even considered getting married there.” 

Nodding, you didn’t think of the ceremony a lot actually. Most of it felt like a blur of anxiety that you barley remembered any of it until the crowd had left entirely. “My father and I approached it much the same. That the gods exist, but neither of us particularly liked them very much. He saw it was, we have our duty down here why should we too trap ourselves in obeying all of their demands as well.” 

Robb found himself trying not to laugh, unknowingly much like his father had said to his mother, “It is your gods with all the rules.” The Old Gods had not rules, but ways of life to adhere to that worked in conjunction with the way they saw nature was supposed to work. Likely why most Northerners found little care to move South, when many Southerners found little issue in going place to place. 

The Andals had came through the lands and cut down almost every Weirwood south of White Harbour, and pushed the First Men up behind that point to stay out of their way as they brought the Faith of the Seven with them. You smiled a little yourself. “My uncles weren’t exactly much different, just a little more into the debauchery of it all then us. But I’ve heard things about my father.” 

“He’s taken an advisor in a woman from Asshai. A red priestess of this,” You paused to find the words but none were too kind, “fanatical religion. One of the men here call it R’hllor. This red god that works through fire and blood magic and sacrifice.”

The image in your mind of the blackness of the cell in Kings Landing, your memory of that dream was so faded now all you could recall was a terrible chilling cold, and that of a flame that seemed to fly past you before you woke up. The dream at the time unsettled you then, and yet now as you could barley even recall anything but that it still did. 

You must have been quiet for longer then a moment, as Robb leaned closer into your side as he murmured your name. “Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Shutting your eyes, you felt the nerves soothed once more by his thick warm voice draping like honey in your ear. 

You shrugged though, “I’m not sure. I shouldn’t even care, we have more to worry about.” He could tell you were rapidly changing the topic, but thankfully you knew that Robb knew better then to push you to talk when so much of how you worked things out was in the quiet of your head. 

“I’m going to speak to him.” Looking back at him, Robb had dropped more of the softness only you were privy to these days. “Jaime. He had admitted it to my mother, that he pushed Bran from the window. But now that the whole realm knows his secret, I want to hear him confess his crime to my face.” A look in his eye grew darker and harsher when he met your eyes. 

“I’d wish you luck, but I know neither of you need that now do you?” 

This time, he was far less soft as he pulled you into him by the back of your neck. Pressing his lips roughly to yours, and deepening it just enough to steal your breathe before pulling back with a bite to your lower lip. Smirking at the low look in your eyes as he brushed against your lips still as he spoke lowly. “Your King expects you to show me just how lucky he is later tonight, understood?” 

He kissed you once more before departing. If Robb was good at one thing, it was making you forget everything you were raised and trained to be as soon as he got that lustful, demanding look in his eyes. 

The growing disparity of numbers was doing your head in. So many men here, so many here and yet the amounts changed depending on the source and of course each man saw it differently. Lord Karstark across from you arguing about the sheer size in the Stormlands. “Even if he had twice that, he’s no better then a boy playing games. He’s fought no battles, and neither have half those summer boys camped out.” 

Biting your tongue as you considered it, you shook your head at the dismissal finally. “He has Highgarden and the Tyrells, which means he also has Randyll Tarly at his command.” 

The Greatjon beside you loud and brash as any, “Tarly’s more likely to inspire those men to pack their bags and head home then follow that rat into battle. Some say he had his eldest killed and his second sons not the sharpest one either.” 

Tilting your head in doubt you glanced up at him, “It doesn’t matter what he did, what matters is if he’s on Renly’s side then they have more leadership then none. I don’t care what the man’s like in private, I care about how quickly he can train his men.” 

Bolton to the right of you spoke much calmer much to your growing headache’s relief, “We should have approached the Tyrell’s before Renly married the girl.” 

Now that was a news you hardly could picture, no more then a political move but you had no concept of what your uncle was going to do to even try selling that reality. “There’s nothing we could’ve done, Renly’s been in with the Tyrells for longer then even Roberts been dead.” Roose glancing at you curiously as you elaborated. “He’d been trying to find a way to get Lady Margaery in Robert’s bed for over a year, and he didn’t just leave the city when Robert died he left with Ser Loras and fifty retainers with them.” 

“You think he already knew about the Queen?” 

Nodding to Karstark with confidence. “I know he did. There’d be no reason for it otherwise. He gets the Tyrells in with his brother, exposes the Queen’s secret and suddenly there’s a gap to be filled on the throne and oh would you look at that.” Hitting your palms with some force onto the table, “Someone already has a tie in with Highgarden that just so happens to have a hundred thousand men at arms.” 

“She’s right,” the gruff voice of Brynden Tully speaking up from the side of the room. “We dismiss Renlys army and it gives them the chance to smarten up without us noticing and sneak up behind us while we’re busy with Lord Tywin.” 

“Most of his men backed themselves into Harrenhal, he’ll join them most likely. Knows it’s too risky for us to march on him even in those ruins.” Your head continued to grow louder in it’s pain. There were four armies at this point, and frustratingly the North were the only ones who weren’t fighting for claim of the Iron Throne and yet it seemed all of the weight of this war was falling on your shoulders.

You stared at the lap, marks laid out as the debate continued. There was a certain amount of worry you were purposely keeping from them, one that you knew Robb was watching fester inside. You were not worried about Renly’s army against the North, no you knew better then that. 

Stannis would go after Renly first, considering him as his biggest threat having claimed his seat for himself and brought maybe ten thousand men of Storm’s End onto his side. Guessing you’d say your father was left with around five thousand which to most is something to scoff at, but you knew better then that. 

He had skill, drive, and little mercy for those who were in his way in ways that Renly had never even seen before. His enemy was Renly, then the Iron Throne and finally you had no doubt your father would end his campaign by coming after Robb. The North hadn’t declared independence just to hand themselves over to the crown without a fight. 

If Lord Tywin was your current enemy, it was your own father’s Iron fist that left you awake at night. The men around you bowing with mutterings of “Your Grace,” causing you to look up. Robb entering the room looking to you as you gave a slight grimace. Renlys numbers it seemed, continue to be the rotten apple of the bunch that was ruining the strength of the rest. 

Moving aside from where you were stood, palms braced against the table as you leaned over the chair as Robb moved around. Theon came in after him with a nod, “Your grace.” If there was one person who such formality felt odd being directed towards, it was the strangest coming from the Greyjoy. You had spent far too many years bickering and bantering to be used to being addressed as such from him. 

Taking a similar stance as you had, Robb looked over the map. “I assume we haven’t reached an agreement yet?” Brynden confirming that no you all had not, as he explained that the problem seems to be what to do about Renly. Robb considered the words, “He has the numbers, but he has the weakest claim and no talent for warfare. Last I heard he was busy holding competitions just to elect a kingsgaurd. Either we deal with him now when he’s no threat, or we let him turn into a threat and it is too late to come to any agreement.” 

Lord Karstark opened his mouth, speaking the first few syllables of protest before Greatjon’s voice bellowed pushing right back. “You not hear your King, Karstark? Or do you think this is up for debate.” 

The man muttering an apology, “No offence is taken, my lord. You are all hear to have your opinions heard.” Taking a seat, Robb begun to glance around to his men. “Now, why I’ve called you all here so late.” 

If you were being honest, it was far to much work to keep with the amount of Lannisters there. Some looked alike, some looked nothing like any you’d ever seen making you wonder just looks their parents had to create such a mix in appearances. The man in front of you had darker hair, somewhat similar eyes to his cousins but little else you saw that would place him but name. 

For all of the damage such striking blonde hair had caused in Kings Landing, the Lannisters did not seem to share the strength in familial looks that the Baratheons or Starks shared. He was still and quiet, but had nothing but an earnest respect on his face as he looked to the King now speaking to him. “You’re Ser Alton Lannister?” 

“I am, your grace.” 

He had been called upon in wake of the fresh defeat of forces, Robb to send him to Kings Landing and present the Queen with his peace terms. “She won’t care.” Renly’s voice had spoken once more in your head, and yet when telling that to Robb he wasn’t perturbed at all.  

“You’re right, she won’t. But then I’m the one who extended an offer to end the war, which means the fault lies with them for denying us. We have our enemies, but none who hate us quite as much as they hate the Lannisters.” 

It was clever to be honest. Make a simple offer of peace that could end Robb’s campaign against them with ease, especially considering it was incontestable the degree which they were losing the war against him. Give them one less army to fight and the North far more time to plan and resource how to handle Stannis should his own campaign for the throne succeed. 

“I offer your cousins peace if they meet my terms.” Robb spoke with the roughness of authority and yet the powerful calm of a man truly in charge. He suited his role perfectly, as if truly destined for him. “First, your family must release my sisters. Second, my father’s bone’s must be returned to us so he may rest beside his brother and sister in the crypts beneath Winterfell.” 

Your heart ripped a little at his demand. It ripped at his even though he did now show or speak it here and now. Your uncle had called such a place dark and depressing, when to the Starks it was where they belonged. A place they could stay together in the home they belonged in. Eddard Stark did not belong rotting away in Kings Landing, sick thinking of how long did they let his head decay away on those spikes. 

“And the remains of all those who died in his service must also be returned. Their families can honour them with proper funerals.” 

Alton for his part, had a look of understanding to each request so far. “An honourable request, your grace.” But your eyes narrowed at him, and he caught the look with a tiny shift to something more unsteady at the sight. You knew he wouldn’t take the next quite as easily as Robb too knew what he was asking him to deliver. 

“Third, Joffery and the Queen Regent must renounce all claim to dominion of the North.” Oh the look on the Lannister’s face that dropped so quickly. “From this time ‘till the end of time, we are a free and independent Kingdom.” 

The nervousness dripping from him as the loyal men surround you and Robb all unified in their words together, “The King in the North.”  

“Neither Joffery not any of his men shall set foot in our lands again. If he disregards this command, he shall suffer the same fate as my father. Only I don’t need a servant to do my beheading for me.” 

A chilling pride filling your veins. For as much learning as you had been given in your years growing up, none at all gave you anywhere near the ease of leadership that Robb had so quickly grown into. Alton Lannister in his place, stammered out “These are...Your grace, these are...”

Robb finding no issue in finishing his sentence for him. “These are my terms. If the Queen Regent and her son meet them, I’ll give them my peace. If not?” His voice dropping harsh and deep with no false or pretend in it to be found. “I will litter the south with Lannister dead.” 

As if he forgot where he was, Alton spoke out, “King Joffery is a Baratheon, your grace..”

“Is he?” 

Silence fell over the Lannister as he looked at you, a paleness in his face growing ever more white at the unblinking stare you gave him until the silence threatened to swallow the man whole. Robb had taken quite a bit of internal struggle to not smirk at just how quickly you turned the Northerners in the room to quick amusement at the mans expense. “You’ll ride at daybreak, Ser Alton.” 

Nodding, he was brought out of the tent as Robb dismissed the rest of his men. “That will be all for tonight.” 

Standing together, Robb raised an eyebrow with a playful glint in his eye. “Is he?” His smirk turning to more of a grin as you broke your own face into a smirk. “Nearly send that man into an early grave. Who would’ve sent the understanding Queen my oh so reasonable terms then?” 

Shrugging a shoulder at him, “I have no doubt there’s an endless amount of Lannisters around you can scare into it, my King.” 

Nudging you ahead of him playfully you both could see Theon waiting around the front as you three now stood at the opening of the tent. Looking to the camp settling itself in. “A word, your grace?” 

Robb sounded almost bashful as he turned to him, “You don’t have to call me your grace when no one’s around.” A small pocket of ease settled between the three of you, for a short moment you were not the leaders of a war as Theon shrugged. 

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it.” 

Feeling Robb’s hand run gently along your arm and wrist where he could find without looking, as you twisted to run yours over his hand back as he sighed. “I’m glad someone’s gotten used to it. “

Cutting to the chase Theon at least understood what was happening. “The Lannisters are going to reject your terms, know.” Robb wasting no breathe in affirming that of course they would as Theon turned to you both. “We can fight them in the fields as long as you like, but we won’t need them until you take Kings Landing. And we can’t take Kings Landing without ships.” 

Glancing at you, Theon could clearly tell by how quickly glanced to Robb that you could see exactly where this was headed. Both of your families had ships, but only one of you had any chance at bringing them to Robb. “My father has ships, and men who know how to sail them.” 

“Men who fought our fathers.” 

You felt doubt, not in Theon but perhaps in those who he was speaking of. He looked at you with a plead, and you felt for how long he must have considered bringing this up. “Men who fought against King Robert to free themselves from the toke of the south, men who fought against the very father that you’re siding against now.” Your jaw clenched, but you didn’t argue back. He wasn’t wrong. Not at all. 

“I’m his only living son. He’ll listen to me, I know he will.” 

Flickering his eyes to you, a trust was found in both of your eyes in the man before you both that had been as close as could be for over ten years now. Theon’s words were quiet, hitting you with an emotional weight that he hadn’t intended, nor do you think either considered. “I’m not a Stark, I know that. But your father raised me to be an honourable man.” 

You thought of those dreams, those visions of nothing in your eyes that appeared out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly. A deep rasp that spoke too much of the same words, and yet filled with a pain that send him towards the edge of the world. Neither you not Robb had mentioned it yet but you both certainly felt it, especially as you, him, and Theon all stood here fighting for the same thing. 

A fourth person was missing and both of you felt his absence each day grow more difficult. 

It felt as if the night had never ended. One thing turned to another and another, and little by little by the point you had a chance to peel off the heavy fabric weight you down. Or was it the war around you doing that all on its own? You could hear just outside the quiet mutterings following by a distinct wolfish huff that had you smile. 

Something about the way only Robb could speak to Grey Wind intrigued you. Like it was a companion that understood him, maybe even others. The direwolf was smart enough, but seemed to choose to obey only one. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that Grey Wind did not follow Robb inside, choosing instead to rest comfortably out at the entrance like a lock to the door that didn’t actually exist. Also ignoring the dark look in his eye as he looked you over, turning away from his eyes as you hid how flustered he made you look. “She didn’t take it very well, I’m assuming.” 

“No she didn’t. To either.” Glancing over you saw him move to tear off the layers himself, narrowing your eyes as you crossed the room, motioning for him to turn around. Standing behind him, you had rise up on your toes to comfortably reach at his shoulders as Robb turned slightly to glance at you, a cheeky grin on his face. “You know I have a squire to do this right?” 

Pausing mid movements you leaned over more to meet his gaze, “My apologies, your grace. Shall I go fetch him to undress you tonight?” Robb tried turning to grab at you, only to be stopped by your hands bracing against his shoulders. “No? Then don’t move.” 

As you undid the pauldrons on his shoulders, the weight did nothing to rid him of the itensity in his muscles there, pausing your work only to run your palms over then. Digging in slightly, his breath hitched for a second, exhaling when you moved continued down his arms to undo the armour. “Told me never to trust a Greyjoy.” 

You were glad to be behind him, not wishing for him to see the irritation in your face despite how much you tried to hide it. “We’re not trusting a Greyjoy, we’re trusting Theon. She should know by now there’s a difference.” 

Robb could hear it in your voice however, but he didn’t blame you nor did he hide it in his own frustrations. “If we didn’t make allies in anyone who hasn’t been our enemy before, it’d be seven kingdoms all blindly fighting each other with no one to trust.” As his arms were released, you could see Robb flexing and relaxing them in a pattern, trying to keep the stress from tensing him too much. 

“Hell if that were the case I certainly wouldn’t be allowed to be here would I.” This time he turned to fast for you to hold him in pace. His eyes were unamused as they bore into yours. “I mean if this all goes the way we think it will, it’s not just the Lannisters we’ll be fighting against.” 

His voice was low, and the hefty concern in them made you feel small, or smaller perhaps. “I want you to listen to me.” Shaking off his chest plate he had far more room to pull you closer. “You are far more then just Stannis’s daughter. You’re my wife, the woman I love, and the Queen all those men out there call their own.” Grasping your face gently, he pulled you to look at him, his face serious but the blue in his eyes shined brightly in the dim yellow light. “If we fight him, we fight him. But you won’t do it alone.”

Staring at you until you slowly nodded, he gave you a light, gentle kiss before pulling back. “May I continue?” Kneeling down you started on the last of it quickly, having done it enough times by now for him. Walder Frey gave him a squire, but you much preferred doing certain things yourself for him, you had to share the other with some thirty thousand men out there the least the boy could do was find anywhere else to be at night but in your tent. 

You were quiet and didn’t glance up as you spoke, “I love you as well, just if we’re being honest.” 

The chuckle above you was darker then you thought, a shiver down your spine as he spoke. “Dangerous thing to say to a man when you’re on your knees before him.” Tearing your eyes up you had no way of stopping the way your gaze took it’s time strolling up his body as you freed him from the remaining metal. His hand ran over the side of your face, thumb brushing against your bottom lip before beckoning you up. 

Undoing the laces to slide off the thin material covering your own body, you felt your body want to shake from the sudden cold air but the deep breathe Robb let you as he rested his forehead against yours make you warm. His large hands grasping your hips and pulling you to press against him. “You cannot keep doing this to me, I’d like to get my whole thought out for once before you make me want to shove you into my bed.” 

Pulling back, you looked into his eyes now a much deeper colour then before as you very gently undid the shirt covering his chest. Not looking away still as you slid it open and off both his shoulders to let it drop to the ground. “Well, I’m listening.”  

Either such a quiet growl you were meant to hear, or something only meant for himself you felt his hands tighten against you. “How is it I have five siblings, and yet you’re the one whose the biggest brat?” Not moving, you much more calmly pressed your palms against his chest and up to rest along his shoulders and neck as he collected himself. “She tried telling me I should just send you instead.” 

You bit your tongue as the scenario played out in your mind, “The last time I saw Renly, I told him he was out of his mind thinking he could be a king, and not to do anything stupid. I’m not sure he’d be so keen on letting me walk in and out of his camp.” 

Robb adding, “Not to mention all they’ll see is their enemies daughter, not the wife of the King trying to offer a truce.” The conflict in your heart just never left did it. It was always bubbling to the surface waiting to escape and taunt you. “We agreed to stay together from now on. Where I go, you go, and right now we belong here, with our men fighting this war. I’m not sending you off miles away where anyone could take you.” 

Sliding your hands around the back of his neck, one threaded through his hair as he wrapped his arms around more to pull you into his chest properly. His voice muffled as he rested it in your neck. “I’m not fighting this war without you, and I don’t want to.” 

Sensing he needed more ease, you scratched your nails along his scalp but the shudder he let out was strong. “What do you need? From me, right now?” 

Hands rough along your hips as he started running them up and down, you could feel his heart beating fast against your chest. One of his hands slid back, grasping one of the cheeks of your ass tightly while his mouth slid up to ear your. “What I need, is for you to be a good girl for me tonight. Can you do that?” 

He knew he had you by the hitch your breathe and how much tighter your nails dug into him at his own touch against you. It was unseemly just how quickly Robb could unravel everything that made you stoic, and quietly intimidating to those under you when he got you alone like this. He could make your body buzz with need only to be quenched as he told you what to do. It was just unfair how easily be had you so freely wanting to submit to him. 

Pulling away to look him his eyes you nodded at him yes. “Good.” Moving back, Robb sat at the edge of the bed. Legs spread and nodding for you to knee before him. Trying to keep your breathe even as he once more ran his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly before moving his hand away to grasp at your jaw. “Pull me out.” 

Your eyes and hands as focused as they were undoing his armour only this time you felt the wetness between your legs increase as you tugged his pants down just enough to grasp at his cock. Already hard, it was thick in your hand as you freed him and shuffled closer. Robb slid his hand to the back of your head. “You want to please me? Make your husband feel better?” Your hand tightened around his length more firmly as he spoke as if unaffected by your touch. “Suck my cock.” 

Pulling you closer to him, your eyes slid shut as you gently took the leaking tip of his cock into your mouth. Not pushing you to take more, just letting you slowly adjust to how much he would start stretching your lips open the deeper you would take him. The saliva gathering quickly and mixing with what bit of precum was already there he held you until he was confident your mouth was more then ready to soak his cock. 

The tiny sigh you let out as he slid deeper, his cock heavy on your tongue as you tasted him. Once he started pushing you down, you knew he’d push as far as you could take it. Which by now, was far more then the first time you ever took him in your mouth. He had trained your mouth well. 

Just as he teased your gag reflex, Robb loosened his grip letting you pull back on your own. He kept his touch to the back of your head but let you bob up and down his cock. Your thighs pressing together as you let him fill your mouth, the bit of saliva trailing from the side of your lips only increasing the more you ran your tongue over his length.

Your hands braced against his thighs, Robb moving to give you more space as he let out a groan, his head falling back, eyes sliding shut at the feeling. You sucked him eagerly like you couldn’t get enough and maybe that was exactly the case. Taking him as deep as you could handle, your face pressed up against the coarse hair around his cock before Robb pulled you off completely, you gasping for hair as he held you close enough to see the mix of saliva and his own seed drop from your lips. Yanking you to look up at him, he was breathing harsher and his teeth gritting together. “Can you take more?” 

Nodding your head, Robb smiled like a man on the hunt and you were just ripe for the attack. “Anything,” 

Almost hissing at the words, Robb coaxed you forward feeding you more of his cock once more now that you had caught your breathe. “Is that so? You going to let me do anything to you? Whatever I want?” You hummed against his cock, the need between your own legs growing in desire. “Let me fill your mouth like a pretty little whore, and then I’ll show you what I really want.”  

Robbs words rough but they blocked out everything beyond his sound and touch and taste. He throbbed in your mouth as you sucked his cock before pushing you down to once more brush against the hair at his base. “Fuck- oh good girl,” 

His hand in your hair loosening as he let go, cumming in your mouth and caressing you through how much he was giving you. His cum warm and thick that made him hard to swallow down when he held you so close, but he spilled all down your throat as you moaned around him. His mouth running as much as his cock spilled inside you, “Swallow all of me, my love. That’s right, just like a good little slut.” 

When he finally finished, he slowly pulled you off his cock. Wasting no time, he pulled you to sit up and straddle his lap as he kissed your lips. No shame in being able to taste himself on your tongue you leaned into his chest. Robb running a hand all through your hair, making a tangled mess of things as you begun kissing down his jaw and neck. 

Him how shivering at your touch, you had learned he wanted you to be rough with him when he was with you. Nights like tonight, he was a wolf who wanted you to play. 

Biting at the skin you could already feel him growing hard again, your lips licking and pressing a kiss to each mark you made, sinking lower and lower as you could to leave them along his collarbone. He watched you with hooded eyes, lips still parted as he tried desperately to control himself and failing. 

Pulling you up to look him in the eyes, Robb trailed his hand down between your legs and just as he teased the idea of easing you into it, he pushed two thick fingers inside of you down to the knuckles. A loud cry leaving your mouth as he did nothing to stop you from it. Only fucking you with them at a far faster pace then was kind, and you couldn’t get enough of it. 

How he played you like an instrument and the sounds were your moans and pleas of his name, and the sound of how wet you had become as he touched you. Your insides tightening quickly, far faster then it took you to bring him to the edge. “Sucking my cock get you this worked up?” 

Catching your eye as he fisted your hair tighter, your hands digging into his shoulders to keep yourself steady. “Yes, yes, it did. You always do,” Your voice so light and breathless as it faded into another cry as his thumb brushed your clit. “Make me feel so good, every part of you.” 

Gods help you when Robb found the moods to tease you about the way you sound, even worse when he reminds you that there is every single chance that his men have heard you. Their head strong Queen in the North who begs and cries for her King’s cock in the night. Maybe it was a good thing Theon was to leave for a while, you certainly knew he had been stockpiling that material to make fun of you with in private. 

You wanted to bury your face in the neck you just marked up, but he refused. Forcing you back to watch you, like keeping you at a distance as he touched you was just another ploy to make you melt. “Cum for me, soak my hand like a good girl and I’ll fuck you full of my cock. Is that what you want?” 

Through almost painful cries as he pushed you closer to the edge, you shook your head. Robb asking in such a sweetly mocking tone what it was you wanted then. “To please you, I oh fuck- please use me however you want, that's what I want, I promise,” 

Smiling in such a dark, dominating manner he leaned to brush his lips against yours. “That’s right, you’re here to please me like the needy slut you are.” Pressing his lips in a light kiss be rubbed tightly against your clit as you came around his fingers. Shaking in his hold as he kept you in place, watching your eyes struggle to even stay open. 

You had barley even started to come down before Robb moved, pushing you face down onto the bed before yanking your hips up in the hair. You suspect if he weren’t so worked up, he may have made you beg to fuck you, but before you even came down from your own orgasm he pushed inside of you. The stinging stretch still came with every time he fucked you, but you clenched around him as the aftershocks of pleasure came back to spike into your core again. 

Pushing his hips hard to fill you completely, you cried out his name as Robb grit his teeth and held you so tight you’d be bruised come morning. Whispering almost just to himself in wonder, “Fuck you’re still coming down,” He held you tighter before pulling back and thrusting inside of you once more. 

The pace he set fast and greedy, your hands clenching the sheets below you as you made no sounds that contained words other then, “Fuck”, “please,” or “Robb”. His cock pounding inside of you right against that sensitive wall that took away the rest of the air in your lungs. You felt like he could ask you to say, admit, or do anything when you were fucked like this and you wouldn’t think twice.

One hand ran down your spine before once more tangling in your hair as he held your head into the sheets, leveraging himself to fuck you with rougher thrusts. The need inside of you coiling so tightly that you could feel yourself getting more wet around his length. “Do you want to cum for me? Be a good little whore and cum all over my cock just so I’ll spill inside you?” Nodding as best you could he knew that you were falling deeper. His hand more gentle around your hair before sliding around to your neck and pulling you gently up as he thrusted slow but hard. “You always want my cum don’t you?” 

“Always, Robb, always. Please, gods my love, I need you.” 

Oh did that ever do Robb in, fucking into you with little regard for any rhythm as he spoke low over the delicious sounds of his hips slapping against your ass. “I need you too, I always fucking need you,” Gasping into the sheets you felt the coil snap and the pleasure burned right through you and tensing every muscle. Clenching around him hard, Robb lost his final sense of control, pushing inside deeply as he spilled inside of you.  

You felt light headed, floating in bed as he slowly pulled out of you. For a split moment when you couldn’t feel him at all, you fisted the sheets below you tightly almost anxiety bubbling in your chest at the lack of touch. Before you felt him cover your back, turning you to your side as he pulled your sweaty hair off of your face, kissing gently below your ear. His voice soothing you back to earth gently as you felt the haze doze off. 

Relaxing in his arms, you reached behind you to run your hand through his hair. Robb capturing you hand to press a kiss to your palm before sending it on it’s way, your name on his lips gentle in your ear “Talk to me, are you alright?” You nodded, and he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you back closer. “I didn’t push you too hard?” 

For all the rough touches and growling words Robb quickly learned that he didn’t feel relaxed after fucking you until he checked in. Making sure he didn’t go too roughly or was too strict with you. Shaking your head no he ran his nose over your cheek before relaxing behind you. 

It was quiet between you for a while before a question popped in your head. “Robb, why send your mother and not one of the other lords?” 

His voice was low and rumbling in your ear, not near sleep as you were but content to lay with you nonetheless. “I’ve known her my whole life, I trust her.” There was a pause before a tiny hint of a cheeky tone peeked through. “She’s also the least intimidating out of this lot. You really think Renly would respond well to someone like Roose or Maege?”

You both laughed in the others arms, “You have a point. A hundred thousand men and yet I don’t think any of them would be as tough as your mother is.” Once the Starks made you one of their own, it seemed like being a wolf is the inevitable outcome. 

What caught your attention just as you begun to drift off, was the way that no words or noise made from Robb in anyway occurred. His hand running up and down your side and yet as if obediently following a spoken order, Grey Wind made his way into the tent. His large frame circling around like any small dog before settling close by the bed. 

Robb’s hand had stopped moving as Grey Wind had done so, and only started up once the direwolf was inside and settling down for the night. To sleepy to focus on it, you let it slip your mind. 

The camp was in a hustle as they all prepared to move out, with the bulk of Tywin’s forces moving in on Harrenhal, it left pockets of lesser forces in the open. Robb determining they would be easy to wipe through, especially in the dead of night. Something, the Lannister forces had yet to catch on that it may be something to watch for. 

It was still quite early, the sun barley even awake as you made your way through the camp. Your eyes sharp, only softening a bit to nod at those giving a slight bow and “your grace” as you passed. Coming to one specific cell near the back, sat a face you wished you weren’t so familiar with. 

Ser Jaime Lannister, Kingslayer. As your father’s raven had so described him. Covered in filth and tied to a wooden pole, he didn’t look quite as fierce as his reputation proceeded. The guard opening the gate as you approached, obeying the nod of your head to step back for a moment to give you space with him. His mouth it seemed, was still working just fine. 

“I’m a lucky man, a visit from our dear Queen in the North so early in the morning.” Stepping inside, you felt the shiver of cold morning air that you could at least depend on going the more south you travelled today. “I can’t quite tell, is it just spending what? Months being dragged around by this ugly lot, or has leadership made you that much more ravishing.” You stared down as unmoving and unamused as ever before he dramatically rolled his eyes. “Still have your father’s charm I see.” 

Your arms crossing over your chest, voice as flat as could be. “I’d ask how you were fairing, but I think we both how little your answer would change anything.” Looking down at him, you still could see the same smug face that had mocked you and Lord Stark mere moments before a spear was shoved through his leg. “You had a late chat with the King last night, did you not?” 

“We did, hope that didn’t interfere with your plans too much. Though I suppose it didn’t, your husband doesn’t seem too bothered about anyone hearing you does he?” You only looked down at him, eyebrows raised as if to tell him if he has a point, to get to it. “Seems like a jealous man, making sure every man here knows what he does to you at night, just to mock them that it’s not them who gets it.” 

Stepping forward you marched right past his words. “Curiously, it seems like you did nothing but deny such allegations against you.” The pause in his face did in fact, stand out. “Odd because when Ned Stark approached your sister with the same, she sung like a bird. Told him all about how you were born together, so you belong together.” 

Something almost uncomfortable came over his face, for once, you found that hard to read. He was a hard man to read most of the time even past his words. “I assure you, my sister does an awful lot of talking and most of the time people just don’t seem to know when she’s lying.” 

“You also confessed to Lady Catelyn.” You also know a rough looking scar across his face was from a rock she hit him with. Even now, it made you proud that it looked like it must have hurt. “Told her the truth, told her how it was you who pushed her ten year old son out a window.” 

As if unable to find words, he just scrunched his face up in dismissal. “And?” 

Now that got a tiny smirk from you. Stepping closer once more, your eyes flickered to where his legs were spread. How easily he could kick you from here, but you were well aware he couldn’t get anywhere past those chains. “You push a child from a window beacuse he saw you with the Queen. You don’t deny pushing him, you don’t deny that you fucked her and yet when faced with the same thing you deny it to Robb Stark’s face. I’m just curious of the change of heart.” 

His eyes narrowed at you, both playing a game trying to read the other only it was a competition between two experts in such a matter. You hid in plain sight as well as he did, only with slightly less bloodshed and betrayals on your side of the river. “Tell me, would you confess your sins to him in my position?” 

Crouching down in front of him, you took no thought in how much you actually knew you should keep your distance. “Tell me, Lannister. What sins have I committed that you think puts me at your level?” 

He was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke, it was soft. Almost like a genuine question as something not as sinister sat behind his green eyes. “It’s not easy, keeping that sort of thing to yourself is it? No matter what your heart screams at you, the other part of you knows its far safer to keep it locked away. Don’t think about it if you don’t have to, and maybe it won’t eat away at you in guilt.” 

You stayed silent, watching him with a narrowed brow as he dumped it on you like a bucket of freezing water. “How close did you get? To giving yourself to him?” For all the pounding of your heart, you stayed as unmoving as a statue. “I wondered if you had at first, the way he looked at you, how you tried not to look back. Would have been easy I imagine. You spent so much time in the North, you both probably know just where to go to not get caught.” 

You shoved his face out of your mind. You made your choice, in mind and heart. And you don’t regret making that choice at all. Just let him play his game, he wouldn’t do anything more then say it to you. Hard to tell if he didn’t have any interest in playing the game of whispers as so many in Kings Landing did, or he just didn’t have the patience to try. “Next time I give myself to my husband for the first time I’ll be sure to invite you to witness the evidence first hand.” 

“He came close though. Very close. A man doesn’t look at a woman the way he did if he’s never been anywhere near close to fucking her.” Jaime leaned his head back against the post, almost resting casually like a chat between friends. “You wouldn’t let it get that far, though. Considering who you are, and who he is, or was should I say. Afterall you can’t get much further away from you then all the way up there.” 

It was hard to push him back out of your mind, the memory was clear. Most of your time with him as so clear you could reach out and brush your fingertips against it. But to do so, was to acknowledge what you wished would go away. Find a life that wasn’t marred in secrets of the heart. For a second you looked away, to the ground of nothing as a gear turned in your mind. 

If you didn’t admit the truth, you could pretend it wasn’t real. Meeting his eyes back with a curious scrutiny, you begun to suspect the same for him. Only you weren’t trying to make your way back to that life, you had made your peace with it and chose a future that could want you freely. 

You suspected Jaime Lannister however, didn’t have such a person in his life to give him that chance. 

In the quiet between you, keen ears begun to reach out to listen. The longer you spoke with him, the more that concern of you, perhaps the jealousy making it grow begun to take hold. Only the closer he got to the edges of the cage, the less anyone suspected. 

“It’s a shame. Tommen and Myrcella are good kids, maybe no one would quite have cared if your third didn’t turn out the way he did.” He had little to say, as you leaned in. “But the worse he gets, the louder those rumours are going to become. Best gets used to hearing them thrown at you, I won’t be the last.” 

As if something inside changed, he glanced over you. “Stark must be relieved you didn’t inherit your fathers looks along with his joyless personality.” Your face fell far more flat and whole unimpressed at his mocking. “Can’t imagine armour that dark or sleek looks good on any Baratheon, some dead ancestor of yours must have done the gods work to skip past all those brothers to land on you.” 

“I’ve seen enough of your family to know that most of your cousins weren’t blessed with the same looks.” 

The sheer confidence in him, to many times in Kings Landing had you spoken to him as he held such a high opinion, dangling it around like a marionette everyone should gawk and awe at. “Did I lose my hearing along with my freedom, or did the Queen in the North just give me a compliment?” 

Now this was a game you’ve played before, but with far more likeable and non condescending bantering partners. “I’m dull, not blind.” 

As he was cracking a smile, you heard the pattering of feed behind you curiously. “No, not when you’ve spent your life around Starks like that.” Nodding to the distance of nothing in particular. “You know, we aren’t actually related.” 

The steps grew behind you with no sound but them reaching you as the man spoke. “I always thought you’d be a bore in bed, but now I can’t help but be curious what kind of she wolf Stark has turned you into underneath all that.” 

In a second, a large figure leaped in beside you just as you stood to your full height. Grey Wind beside you in an aggressive display growling at him, Jaime leaning back with his eyes almost squeezed shut before you reached a hand out. Grasping onto the fur along the direwolf’s back ,Grey Wind backed off in a second. Standing large a foot out in front of you still, until you eyed the Lannister once more and turned away. 

Grey Wind took a moment before he too turned, and as he followed you along the way, you noted that he seemed much more like himself then moments before. Yet still followed you the way he only did for Robb. 

You didn’t clue in when later in the day, Robb had glanced in the direction of the cage Jaime was in as he pulled you into him with dark eyes and a greed in his voice that had your heart pumping a big harder. “If he speaks to you like that again, I’ll drag him into our tent and make him watch me take you apart until the sun rises.” 

It was a frustrating point the ride out, waiting on Theon about the Iron Islanders, waiting to hear on Renly. If they both said no, you and Robb would handle it but it was the in between times on horseback where you could see in the far off look in those bright blue eyes that spoke it. The frustration of trying to find just who your true allies were as so far the entire weight of this war rested on him alone. 

For all the talk of kings and armies, the only one who had the strength and ability to fight this war so far, was Robb. The only one posing a threat, even despite all the talk that he was young and over eager as the Lannisters continued to lose out. 

As unsure of his abilities as a King were in private, looking to him in those moments you saw nothing but what a real King is made of. Like Robb was not aware of the degree that his own men worshipped him. They chose him, and yet not once did he let any hubris take hold of that fact. 

Robb held his kingship like a weight that would sink him at any splash, and you couldn’t help but see something you had not watched in a King as long as you were alive. There were many claims of kings in this realm now, and perhaps it was your own bias, your own love that spoke of such an opinion. 

But the only one you could say had the strength of a man that makes him worthy of King, was the man next to you. Jaime Lannister had a point in some, but you had done what he refused to do. Chose a life, taken a path that would lead you to where you truly were supposed to be. 

And the way Robb looked at you back, and the way his men never looked at you as less then? It was hard to image yourself in this life that didn’t bring you to here and now. 

That confidence in the day however, wasn’t the same confidence that danced in your dreams once the sun went down. In the dark of nights, fast asleep was when the dreams of cold and ice came to you, ones that filled you with a fear you didn’t even think was yours. 

You told no one of the night you dreamt of that tall figure, of the cries of a newborn baby and the striking eyes so blue they felt not of this earth and how those eyes carried away those infants cries into the darkness before you awoke. 

Nor did you know why in the few seconds between waking from such a dream, to falling back asleep, did you think of Jon. 

[pjohoo-reclists]

hi! do you have any percico fic recommendations? i’m sure you do but i couldn’t find them, lol

Actually I dont have any posted yet!! Here you go. Thanks for the request. Enjoy!!

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo Fic Recs

A list of fics featuring the romantic relationship between Percy Jackson and Nico di Angelo.

Dog Sled Racing by robindrake93

T | 600 words | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Puppies, Fluff, Short One Shot

Percy and Nico try to train Mrs. O'Leary's puppies.

To Give Yourself To Someone by cabin13 (friendlypeach) 

T | 1.0k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo, Nico di Angelo & Grover Underwood, Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood

Wedding Fluff, Speeches, Married Couple

Percy laughs, watching one of his closest friends stand up, almost bringing the tablecloth with him. “You’re being ridiculous!” Nico yells as Grover runs to the centre of the room. Eyes alight, slightly shadowed by black curls, a smile pushing insistently at his lips even as he tries to tamp it down – Nico is glowing with happiness. They’ve come a long way. And there's longer to go, still. Percy grabs his husband’s hand, warmth blooming in his chest.

a well-known fact about feelings by nlieco (madin456)

G | 1.3k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Angst with a Happy Ending, Internalized Homophobia

The thing about being a boy and liking another boy is: it’s not supposed to happen.

A Happy Ending by HK44

G | 1.5k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Fluff, Happy Ending, Domesticity

People make jokes that Percy would never handle domesticity. That he attracts danger like Hazel attracts cursed metals. He laughs along because they’re not wrong.

Something Bitter by sulucandles

G | 1.9k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Canon Compliant, One sided, Coming Out

Percy's not as oblivious as everyone thinks he is. Or an examination into Nico and Percy's relationship through PJO and HoO

It's a Seal! by Takara_Phoenix

G | 1.9k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

AU - No gods, Merman Percy, Selkie Percy

Nico loves the aquarium, especially the turles and one marine biologist in particular.

My College Boyfriend by Takara_Phoenix

T | 3.0k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Good boyfriend Percy Jackson, Fluff, Age Difference

Nico is seventeen and the best damn thing that has ever happened to him is his five years older boyfriend, Percy Jackson. Now if only Nico's friends would believe him that gloomy, anti-social Nico could land a gorgeous college student... Something always came up when Nico wanted to introduce them and at this point, Percy is known as Nico's imaginary boyfriend. Good thing Percy is awesome and knows how to change that though.

Pass the Eggs by DancingInTheSliverGlow

G | 3.1k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Canon Compliant, Protective Percy Jackson, Gay disaster Nico di Angelo

“Yes.” Percy says. “You don’t have to befriend everyone in Camp Half Blood. I just want you to have somewhere you feel safe and welcome. Okay?” A lump forms in his throat, and Nico looks away. It’s been a long time since anyone has looked out for him, the way Percy is doing now. He nods. “Great!” Percy grins, ear to ear, and Nico thinks that it’s a bit like looking in the sun. Beautiful in small quantities, but overwhelming and blinding in too much. Percy speeds off to his room to get changed and to get his skateboards, and Nico leans back against the wall in the hallway, head in his hands. He’s so, so far in over his head. Aka. Post BotL Nico visits Percy. They talk about how Nico's powers are perceived, and about how camp half blood treats children of the big three.

Perspective by chiiyo86

T | 6.0k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson

AU - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Outsider POV

Sally knows her son, knows that something isn't right. She just isn't sure what he could be hiding from her.

A Bat in the Hand by Takara_Phoenix 

G | 8.9k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Fluff, AU - Supernatural Elements, Vet Percy

Percy is a hard-working student, on his way to become a vet, because he loves animals. And then a cute, little bat crash-lands on his balcony. Of course he has to take the little guy in and nurse him back to health. Nico is a dangerous and powerful vampire lord. And then he has a run-in with vampire hunters and, in his bat-form, loses conscience and crashes on a balcony.

Some of Them by betsib

M | 11k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Abuse

Percy haven't seen Nico di Angelo in five years, then he suddenly turns up in Percy's living room in the middle of the night, injured and asking for help. At first Percy thinks it's a fight gone wrong, but he soon realizes the truth is far worse than that.

you're never lost at sea by kat777

M | 20k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Angst with a Happy Ending, Self-Acceptance, Suicidal Thoughts

The second time he tries to kill himself, Percy doesn’t talk his ear off, just gives him an ultimatum—he can either come live with Percy and Annabeth in their apartment in New Rome, or Percy will tell Hazel what he’s done. Nico pictures the devastated look on her face, the tears welling up in her eyes, her lips trembling and pressed in a thin line. Percy says he has a choice, and it makes Nico laugh for the first time since the battle at the House of Hades, because it’s no choice at all. OR, Nico attempts suicide, Percy saves him, and years pass before either of them are even remotely all right.

Kiss a Boy in Tokyo Town by antistar_e (kaikamahine)

T | 57k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Novella, Infidelity

You know what they say, Percy Jackson. If you can't stand the heat, get out of hell.

Enriched By Envy by HK44

M | 63k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Magic, Protectiveness, Dark Percy Jackson

Waking up at the bottom of the ocean was not on Nico's bucket list. Trying to figure out why Percy was suddenly so clingy and possessive of him wasn't on there either.

The Case of the Dying Flower by chiiyo86

E | 72k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Murder Mystery, Slow burn, Soul Bond

It's not that Nico has been avoiding Percy for the past two years, of course not. It's just that he doesn't like to be reminded of the stupid crush he had on him when he was younger. So when Percy seeks him out with the message that the goddess Aphrodite wants to see both of them, Nico is less than enthusiastic. Before he knows it, he finds himself forcibly bonded to Percy and they're sent on a strange quest: solving a murder that happened thousands of years ago and whose primary suspects are gods.

[bloodiedrogue]

THE PADLOCK PLAYOFFS

SUMMARY: Astarion and you compete for the camp's best lockpicker.

PAIRING: Astarion & Gender Neutral Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,190

WARNINGS: None?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: @leighsartworks216 is a genius and wrote the hilarious text post this little fic is based off of, so thank Leigh for their perfect brain! Also, no editing because I'm supposed to be on vacay.

MASTERLIST

-

“Are you two always this competitive?” 

The question originally had come from Wyll. After a particularly heated argument over the most effective way to distract and pickpocket, the answer quickly became obvious and the topic was dropped, knowing that forevermore, you and Astarion would always be seen as two opposing sides, competing for the ultimate prize of best rogue within the camp. 

At first, it was civil. At least to some degree. Discussions between the two of you would always rise to a boiling point but would never overflow the pot. Oftentimes both of you would just laugh at the other’s supposed perfected tactics, claiming to be the best before deciding a test would inevitably occur once the time was right. 

No testing ever followed through though. Considering you were far too busy with the threat of the Absolute and the fact that none of your discussions were ever that serious. Each time a competition was promised it was slowly forgotten and neither of you had a problem with it. 

Well, until now. Until Lae’zel absentmindedly makes some comment about how long Astarion’s taking to pick the lock of the chest in front of him.

All of you are back at camp for the night. After a particularly rough day of looting through an overflowing camp of Absolute cultists, the majority of you are lounging by the fire, drinking ale or wine, staring at the flames in silence as you all settle down. 

Towards the tents though, Astarion kneels in front of a large chest, brows pushed towards the centre of his face in deep concentration while Lae’zel stands above him, arms crossed angrily over her chest.  Both you and Karlach spare a glance, watching the inevitable argument that breaks out, noticing the exhaustion in Astarion’s eyes as he turns towards the Gith and yells. 

“If you’re so keen on rushing my craft then I’ll just piss off and let the second best rogue do it!” 

He motions to you with an open hand as he says it, catching the annoyed look you give him in the process. How your jaw all but sets into a stiff position, your lips pressing together in an attempt to surpass the insults you wish to throw his way. 

“Yes, perhaps such a suggestion is best.”

Stealing your attention, you watch as Lae’zel motions to the chest with her chin, giving you the kind of nod that has you jumping to your feet and readying your tools, watching as Astarion merely rolls his eyes. 

“Second best rogue —are you kidding me, Star?” You huff and shake your head, angrily shoving him aside before he can even react. Then, you shove the short hook into the hole, feeling three successful shifts before pulling open the lock. 

When you do you narrow your eyes at Astarion before faking a yawn, patting the palm of your hand to your lips in the most dramatic way possible. 

“You were watching me do it,” he immediately argues, pointing to the tools in your hands, glaring at them like they’re the most evil instruments in the world. 

“From across camp?” You raise your brow and smirk. “Sweetie, you and I both know my eyesight isn’t that good.” 

“It’s good enough to recognize technique, darling.”

Somehow this time the argument of who’s better than who doesn’t die down like it usually does. Instead, it merely escalates to the point of interruption, causing both Gale and Wyll to step in, suggesting you all go to bed. Neither of you relents though, knowing what’s at stake. Knowing that whoever gives in will always be referred to as the lesser rogue. 

“How about we settle this fair and square then?” Astarion says.

You look at him like he’s just lost his head. “Wait, you’re capable of fairness?” you ask sarcastically, watching him roll his eyes before changing the subject, asking the camp for their finest padlocks.

It’s decided then that your semi-consistent call for competition is finally answered. That after countless weeks of rivalry amongst varying tactics, you’ll finally get to decide on at least one of them. 

The camp reluctantly wanders to their tents then, allowing you and Astarion a few moments to stare the other down with newfound skepticism until the party all returns with various locks, holding them out for both of you to survey. 

“Forgive me for questioning, but are competitions like this common amongst thieves?” 

Gale looks at you as you lower your head to his hands, narrowing your eyes at the lock’s design. It’s intricate on the outside, displaying an ornate pattern that wraps around the opening in two mirrored filigrees. 

“Very,” you reply, snatching the lock from his hand with a grin, turning to Astarion afterward. “Basic rules? I pick your lock, you pick mine, any means necessary?” 

Astarion nods, holding out the lock inside his palm to you, prompting you to do the same. 

Once switched you both immediately get to work, running your eyes and fingers over the mechanisms, trying to form the best course of action. Next to you, Astarion looks at his with great attention, mumbling to himself as he picks apart all the padlock’s quirks, quickly discovering your choice is unfortunately smart.

Hailing from a specific locksmith who works with magic users exclusively, you know he can tell the lock inside is enchanted. That once you stick your hook inside it’s essentially a free-for-all in regards to what happens next. 

Based on the filigree design it’s obvious to those who know that it’s laced with illusionary magic. Something you’re certain Astarion’s at least somewhat familiar with, allowing you to take your time.

Not that you need it. Not with the lock he so foolishly chose. 

As soon as it was placed into your open hand you recognized the model. An old faulty lock that had been giving rogues like you grief for years. Back when it was first developed it was quickly run off the shelves once people found it was impossible to open without destroying them completely, prompting a surge of collectors to adopt most for display. 

Knowing this, you also know a bit of brute force in the right spot can remedy such a fault.

Smirking to yourself, you twirl the lock on your finger and wander over to Karlach, eyeing her competition offering before holding out your hand. 

“May I?”

She and the rest of the party look at you confused, watching as the tiefling hands it over almost immediately. 

You thank her kindly with a dramatic bow before glancing at your competitor, noticing how he’s finally found the right hook to ensure his success. 

“I’m surprised, didn’t think you’d get that far,” you tell him then, earning his attention long enough to hit the butt of Karlach’s lock against the other, triggering a loud click to signify its opening.

At which point, Astarion all but stares. With eyes so wide you swear they might fall out, you toss the lock in his direction, watching him fumble with the one in his hand before ultimately catching yours against the base of his forearm, looking up to glare as you blow him a cheeky kiss.

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle

TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!

[xmycxx]

Hi, so I know there's a lot of atrocities happening in the world right now, I'd just like to temporarily bring your attention to another one.

Yesterday, in one of the busiest streets in Dublin, Ireland, a man stabbed 3 children, a woman and another man. A woman and a man disarmed him and the perpetrator was then beaten. He was arrested and then shortly taken to be treated for his wounds.

The victims were treated for their injuries, the worst of the injuries was a 5 year old girl who spent the night in the intensive care unit.

The man was verified to be Algerian, and despite having lived in Ireland for the past 20 years is being flagged as "an irish attacking immigrant." (these facts have been passed through grapevines and articles, if someone has more accurate facts I'm more than happy to change this post).

This then led to riots against immigrants taking place in city centre. For context, the anti immigrant riots have slowly escalated. 3 years ago, there were monthly protests. 1 year ago, there were weekly protests.

Yesterday, busses, trains and cars were burnt.

Stores were looted.

Hotels/Camps where refugees were staying were attacked.

Police were assaulted.

Students were forced to take shelter in their friends homes or in college for the entire night.

Today, there have been rumors of these same anti-immigrant groups attacking bus/train stops in order to, and I quote: "Kill all immigrants, just kill 'em all."

Tomorrow, there is a protest planned in city centre against all immigrants in city centre.

This incident is just the beginning, everyone has seen this story before. This is not a new story. Please raise awareness and do what you can. If you know someone in Dublin, please pass this information on.

[knickynoo]

Back to the Future Part III, The Novel by Craig Shaw Gardner: Thoughts, commentary, and general ramblings

Part 1: Marty-themed nightmares and lots of cowboy talk

• So! We all know how this one starts. Marty's just come running down the street; he announced he’s back from the future, and Doc is out cold.

• Marty brings Doc home, and while Doc is unconscious, we get to go inside his head for a little dream sequence! And if I may say so: it’s a travesty that this wasn’t in the movie. He has a nightmare that there are Marties everywhere, and he can’t get away from them. Everywhere he turns, there’s A Marty staring back at him. His escape from the horde of Marties only comes when the “Howdy Doody Time” theme song starts, and he wakes up. Since the song also wakes up Doc in the movie, I’d like to believe he was also having Marty Nightmares.

Also, this reminds me of that one post. I can't track down the original to include a link, but I do have a screenshot saved, so that'll have to do.

• Meanwhile, Marty is over on the couch having Cowboy Dreams. He dreams he’s in the Old West with Clint Eastwood and is woken up by the sound of Doc talking into his tape recorder.

• As Doc reads the letter, Marty sits quietly in a chair, intently listening to the whole thing, which is very un-Marty if you ask me. Very glad we ended up with Movie Marty wandering all over the place and touching everything, as it should be.

• Ok, the book earns a point for having both Doc and Marty get emotional to the point of actual tears after reading his letter. Doc is sniffling and wiping tears away, and Marty is described as, “trying hard to keep his lower lip from quivering.” They should have cranked up the emotion for the movie scene.

• Also, I somehow purchased a version of the novelization that was printed in Great Britain, so I’m continuously running into different spellings, such as “centre” and “favourite.” My inner voice narrating as I read is occasionally speaking with an accent because of this. Adds to the fun, I guess.

• Once they locate the DeLorean in the mine, it says, “Doc and Marty grinned at each other,” then they just get to work uncovering it. This is interesting to me because it contrasts so much from the actual movie scene where these supposed grins are replaced with a look of awe from Doc and a look of what I can only describe as horror/fear in Marty. It’s one of my favorite scenes of part III because of their reactions, actually. It's almost as if the realization that the car has been there for so long, and that the older version of the guy standing next to him had stood in that very spot to hide way back in 1885 is a little too overwhelming for Marty. It's a great moment. Next time you watch part III, really focus in on their expressions during this quick little scene.

• Book Marty does NOT stumble over the word “schematic.”

• When Doc tells Marty that he always wanted to be a cowboy, he mentions that he spent a few summers working at Statler’s Ranch, where he learned how to ride horses and shoot guns. In the DeLorean Manual (you know I always have to bring up this book; it’s a treasure trove) Doc says he learned these skills because his father sent him away to “wilderness camp.”

• Got a chuckle at what follows Doc talking about those summers working at the ranch: “Marty got the oddest look on his face. He was probably trying to imagine Doc Brown as a cowboy.”

• Marty then asks Doc how he ended up becoming a scientist instead. Which is kind of an odd choice. Are you to expect me to believe that Marty doesn’t already know the story of how Doc went into science?? This is something I assume 1980s Doc would have told him in their first week or so of knowing each other.

• Marty, initially wary at Doc being “stuck” in 1885 has a change of heart after hearing Doc talk so enthusiastically about his older self getting to live out his cowboy dreams. He says, “Doc, if you’re happy, then I’m happy. It’ll be a whole lot easier for me to go back to 1985 knowing you’re living it up in 1885.” I actually think this is a wonderful addition that might have been nice in the movie. It just…it displays their relationship so nicely. Marty doesn’t WANT to lose his best friend, but he values Doc’s own happiness above his own. To Doc, he isn’t stuck or condemned to a life in the Old West. He’s living out his childhood dream! If you’re happy, then I’m happy. It’s such a beautiful way to reframe the situation.

That seems like a good place to leave things for now.

[caesarhamato22]

Hi thank you for accepting my request it was AMAZING!

if it’s ok, could I request another dk fanfic

IF NOT THEN ITS OK!!!!

but if yes how about some ANGST😈 (with happy ending tho😭)

so basically dk’s s/o ends up getting kidnapped while saving Mario and dk wasn’t around. And bowser decides to marry reader instead of peach and I don’t think dk’s happy bout that

Welcome back, lovely! I'm so glad you enjoyed the last request and OF COURSE you can request another one!!

I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! I need to get into some more angst fr

Taken: Pt 1/2

Donkey Kong X Fem!Reader

Summary: While in the middle of a battle, Donkey Kong is separated from you and comes back to find you've been taken by Bowser when you were saving Mario.

Warnings: Language, kidnapping, attempted forced marriage, details of injuries.

*In honour of hitting 50 followers, I wanted to make this one a bit longer for you guys <3*

*This is part 1 out of 2. I'll link part 2 once it's posted!*

*This is set outside the movie*

~

Headcanons:

Spoiler Warning: These headcanons include the first half of the oneshot.

• First things first, DK would definitely be hesitant with you joining the mission.

• He knows how capable you are and how well you can fight, but he couldn't help but worry about something going wrong.

• He knows Bowser has an interest in you, similar to his interest in Princess Peach.

• But it seems Bowser was going for you more often.

• Probably because he'd been obsessed with Peach for so long with no prevail.

• This made DK even more protective over you.

• It may have annoyed you to an extent but you knew he meant well.

• Throughout the battle, he would be watching you 24/7.

• After getting separated, he panicked and sprinted over to where he last saw you as soon as he got the chance.

• Finding out you were taken sent DK over the edge.

• And finding out that you were hurt in the process of saving Mario made him furious.

• He almost broke down.

• How was he going to get you back? Would you even be alive if he found you?

• Actually getting to you was the most stressful part.

• He wasn't sure what state you'd be in, even if it hadn't been that long.

• He went on a rampage to get to you once they got on Bowser's ship.

• The pure rage in his eyes almost scared Bowser for a second.

• But nothing could prepare DIK for the loss he was about to witness.

~

Mario had received word that Bowser was planning an attack on the Mushroom Kingdom. He was informed by some Toad Guards that a large group of Koopa Troopas had made camp just outside the kingdom's premises.

Since his brother, Luigi, was accompanying him at the time, they asked the guards to show them where the camp was.

After making their way into the forest, they all hid in the bushes and made notes on everything in the camp.

Almost twenty Koopa Troopas were setting up tents, sharpening weapons, looking over plans, but what Mario and Luigi noticed in particular was Bowser was nowhere to be seen. The Koopas were seemingly by themselves. Their karts were parked surrounding the camp, like a blockade.

Before they could be spotted, Mario, Luigi and the Toads retreated back to the Mushroom Kingdom to deliver the news to Princess Peach.

With the help of a new warp pipe created to connect Peach's home and the Jungle Kingdom, you and Donkey Kong made it to the meeting in no time.

~

"Bowser's back." Mario announced.

With the Koopa King returning, there was no doubt he'd be resuming his mission in kidnapping the Princess.

Or, potentially, yourself.

"The guards found a Koopa camp, just outside the kingdom." Mario explained. "They showed Lu and I everything. Their set up, their karts, and we even overheard their plans."

While standing around the circular map in the centre of the throne room, the group listened. "They mentioned an ambush. Happening either tomorrow or the day after." Luigi warned. Mario nodded along. "We didn't see Bowser but-"

"I thought you said he was back." Donkey Kong stopped him.

Mario quickly came to Luigi's aid. "That's what we heard the Koopas say. He's coming on the day of the ambush." He furrowed his brows.

He found it annoying how casually DK interrupted people, especially his brother. But, of course, Donkey Kong never dared to cut you off whenever you spoke.

"So, we don't know what day they'll be attacking? Or even when Bowser will get here?" You questioned. Being this uncertain on when the kingdom would be invaded would be a massive disadvantage for your team, and it worried you. Would it be late at night, early in the morning, or at the exact time that you sat down for lunch?

"Doesn't matter. Because we're-" Mario began.

"It matters, you know, a little." DK shrugged.

Toad and you glanced at each other, obviously having the same worries of the argument that could be taking place very shortly.

"Because we're going to stop them before they try anything." Mario raised his voice firmly. "If we crash their camp, destroy their supplies, and even their karts, they'll retreat."

"Then technically, they could be attacking right now, as we speak." Donkey Kong realised. Mario slowly turned his head and glared at the gorilla. "And we wouldn't even know, like, at all."

"Sometimes I wonder how, or better yet, why (Y/N) puts up with you."

"I get free rides." You answered, giving a shrug with your crossed arms. You knew the current topic was serious but you couldn't help but poke a little fun at the red plumber.

"And kart rides too." DK added with his smirk that infuriated Mario every time.

"OKAY, let's move on." Peach leaned against the map and began discussing their plan. "We want to stop them quickly. We'll sneak in tonight and stay hidden to destroy everything we can. If they spot us, we attack."

Everyone nodded, agreeing with her strategy.

"You guys are sure Bowser won't be there tonight?" She aimed her question at the Italian brothers.

"Well, he wasn't there when we were there." Luigi admitted.

"And he won't be there tonight." Mario guaranteed confidently with his fists on his hips. "The Koopas mentioned he'll arrive tomorrow, the earliest. It's best we attack A.S.A.P."

"But what if he's-" Toad raised a hand.

"He won't be! And if he is, we'll defeat him!" Mario practically begged everyone to side with him. He looked to Luigi for support. His brother hesitated for a moment but joined him regardless. A face full of fear turned to pure determination.

Mario's eyes softened when he locked them with Peach. He could see how she wasn't completely on board with the plan, and he understood why. She wanted to protect everyone. Every plan must be perfect.

But Mario felt it in his gut. This plan would work.

His gaze was a silent ask for permission, pleading for her trust. He wanted them all to trust him. He only ever wanted the best for his friends and family.

Yes, that includes Donkey Kong.

Peach thought it over and smiled at her companion.

Toad, as always, followed his princess's lead.

Then it came down to you and your stubborn boyfriend.

Glancing at each other, almost speaking telepathically. You may have trusted Mario but you definitely didn't trust this plan. Fighting the Koopa Troopa army was one thing, but fighting them and their boss, who also had the ability to breathe fire?

"I'm in." You smiled.

Truthfully, you worked better as a team. You joined your friends and Donkey Kong watched you. He was usually the one to rush into every battle the group came across, much to your dismay. Sure, you loved fighting alongside your lover and friends, but this fight could go a few different ways. And DK knew that.

He may be reckless, pretty much all the time, but this was different. Something felt off. This plan was risky, even for him. They weren't prepared for what they would face because they didn't know what they would be facing. All they could really do was improvise with the minimal time they were given and hope for the best.

As long as you were safe and he got to bash some Koopas, everything would be fine.

"Alright. I got nothing better to do than to save your butts. But if anything goes wrong, I'm blaming you." Donkey Kong pointed his finger an inch from Mario's face, to which the short man slapped his hand away.

"Sure, yeah, you can blame me. But you won't need to! Not unless we hurry up and attack."

It was strange seeing Mario so eager to prove himself. He wanted to show that trusting his gut was the right way to go, even if it meant rushing into a battle unprepared. It was unlike him.

Luigi had seen this side of Mario before when they were kids. But this is an entirely new situation that could end horribly if something unpredictable were to happen. He always trusted his brothers gut. That was how their plumbing business started, and look at them now!

Everyone dispersed and gathered what weapons they commonly used in battle. In the midst, Mario approached Donkey Kong after you had walked away.

"You really don't trust me, do you?" He asked offended.

"Not really, no." No hesitation. DK kept has back to Mario while he sorted the raid preparations.

"And I don't understand why. We heard the Koopas, we know their plan. What, do you think I'm making it up?" Mario couldn't lie, he was hurt.

"I'm joking. Yes, I trust you and I know you're not making it up. It's this plan I don't trust. And that's coming from me." DK gestured to himself after turning to the short man. "I've seen, and been apart of, battles my dad's army fought in. This might not be as dangerous as those, but it's still dangerous. And if anything happens to-"

"(Y/N) will be fine. I've seen her fight, she can handle herself!" Mario cut him off. It's true, you could fight. Why couldn't Donkey Kong believe in your abilities?

"I know she can fight, Mario, but that's not the point. The main part is we don't even know if Bowser won't be there. Remember how we almost died last time?" DK started to walk away on all fours with Mario trying to catch up to him.

"No one's dying tonight."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because if we go now, before Bowser gets there, we can stop their plans and potentially set them back weeks or even months!"

DK stopped and faced Mario, still slightly unimpressed.

"And I promise, (Y/N) will be okay."

DK watched him, scanning for any sign of a lie. But Mario was telling the truth. He fully believed this plan would succeed. And you were officially going too. So whether Donkey Kong liked it or not, the mission was going ahead. And he was coming along.

"Fine." He said begrudgingly. Mario smiled, thankful he could convince his friend to join him and trust him.

Now all he needed to do was stick to his promise.

How hard could that be?

~

You and the group silently stalked through the bushes surrounding the enemy camp. Donkey Kong stayed near you, as that's what he always did. Specifically in these situations.

The first thing they noticed was how many Koopas there were. And there looked a hell of a lot more than the twenty Mario mentioned. They gave each other a knowing look. This battle wouldn't be as easy as they thought.

Taking a peek through the bushes to where the others had gone, they saw Mario's expression was the same as theirs.

There weren't supposed to be this many. He was certain they'd be in and out in practically minutes.

There was still no sign of Bowser. Just soldiers, running around, still preparing. Their weapons were ready and their karts were loud yet parked.

As the Koopas were distracted, it was the perfect time to attack. They each took out lone soldiers but were eventually caught when one alerted everyone in the camp.

The adrenaline picked up fast as more Koopas came to fight. By having multiple soldiers fight each member of the group, it was easy for them to separate everyone, including you and DK.

While you focused on the shells, fists and spears thrown at you, DK tried to keep an eye out. His heart raced as it got increasingly harder to spot you through the crowd.

The amount of Koopas targeting you and your friends lessened, and it felt like it was almost over.

Then the wind picked up. The temperature had spiked.

You fought off three red-shell soldiers before they stopped and faced the sky. You took the opportunity to force them back with your weapon before looking upwards for yourself.

Your eyes widened, and you caught Mario doing the same.

"No... it's too soon." He whispered. Koopas dove down from the sky, more than any of you could take on your own. "He's not supposed to be here, yet."

You looked to the opening in Bowsers ship as it lowered itself near the ground. A large figure jumped out of the ship, landing without a scratch.

Bowser's menacing grin spotted your friends. His eyes land on you. A sickening smile greeted you.

"There you are."

You held your weapon tightly, perfecting your stance. He took a step towards you before being struck by Peach. Toad followed pursuit and attacked Bowser's legs as best he could. With this only doing as much as pestering him, he kicked back Peach's loyal subject, causing the princess to aim her poleaxe right at his face and neck.

Blocking her attacks, Bowser shot fire where she stood, not caring about her wellbeing as much as he did before. Thankfully, she jumped out of the way.

His main goal was you. Getting to you. Taking you.

Why not Peach? Did he finally give up after stalking her for so many years?

Mario and Luigi attempted to help, only to be held back by more Koopas exiting the ship.

The same for you and DK, the soldiers wouldn't let you interfere. They purposefully split you from the group, holding you arms back after disposing of your weapon.

"(Y/N)!" DK called. He pushed through the multiple shorter enemies who kept him occupied. "Let her go!"

While attempting to break free, you watched Mario sprint over near the Koopa King, putting all Bowser's attention on the himself.

Mario kicked him back, just slightly to daze him. He landed hits whenever he could, blocking any attack he could avoid. He fought proudly, before Bowser caught his body in his grasp.

"No powerups? Sad... you never stood a chance without them." He spoke so closely to Mario's face. A couple drops of sweat sat on his forehead as he clawed Bowser's hand, desperate to escape.

You witnessed the encounter and used all your strength to escape the Koopas hold. You kicked them back and retrieved your weapon from the ground and ran to Mario's aid.

Bowser talons grazed Mario's face, almost digging into his skin. Your friend hissed at the stings as blood rose to the surface.

Yelling a battle cry, you leaped in the air and kneed the side of Bowser's face. He dropped Mario and you landed in front of him, protecting your friend.

"Mario, move!" You ordered quickly.

He wanted to help, he desperately did. You couldn't be hurt in this battle, he made a promise that you wouldn't.

You blocked Bowser's blows and landed a few of your own while Mario still hadn't moved. You sliced Bowser's shoulder and he stumbled for a moment. You quickly turned to get Mario standing while he still frozen in shock.

"What are you doing?! Get out of-" Bowser swatted you out of the way and you fell to the ground. The Koopas launched a net around you and Bowser threw Mario back, breaking his trance.

"Let's move!" He called to his soldiers before locking eyes with you. "We got what we came for." You shook under the weight of the net and you were lifted and brought back to Bowser's ship. With your weapon back on the ground, you couldn't escape. As you pulled at the net and pleaded for them to let you go, Mario watched from below. Luigi met up with him, trying to get his brother to look at him.

You got on the ship, still in the net, as Bowser stomped over to you. He leaned down to be almost eye-level. You exhaled shakily, unable to look away.

"I've never gotten a good look at you, my dear." His voice was low and haunting. "And I'm hearing wedding bells."

~

All the remaining Koopas flew after the mothership, leaving the group to watch as one of their own was taken. Yet, half of them didn't know . One of which being Donkey Kong.

Mario had silent tears staining his cheeks as his friends came together.

Donkey Kong ran on all fours and caught sight of the ship leaving. For a second, he was joyful. The plan worked! They retreated! Why couldn't he hear cheers?

His eyes darted around to find you. He found Princess Peach, instead. "Peach, are they gone?"

"I think so. Hopefully." She panted as she watched the ship leave.

"Have you seen (Y/N)?" He asked. Peach looked at him, then scanned the area. You were nowhere to be seen. After she didn't answer immediately, he looked at Toad. His short friend just shrugged with worry in his eyes as he turned to search for you as well.

Donkey Kong walked over to the Italian brothers and asked Luigi.

"Where's (Y/N)?" He asked, internally begging Luigi count point you out. The green plumber stared at the gorilla before looking to Mario, who was facing away in guilt.

"Mario. Where's (Y/N)?" DK called him. Mario kept his back turned. DK didn't have any patience for this. He needed to know where you were. "Mario, where is she?" He asked firmly. His friend turned to him, a couple fresh tears dropped. DK was taken aback. His breath shook. He needed answers. And Mario wasn't giving them to him.

"Tell me where she is." DK ordered. Mario took a slight step back. Too much time has been wasted during this interaction and the ape grabbed Mario by the shoulders and shook him, forcing him to look into his eyes.

"Mario! Where is she?! Where's (Y/N)?!" He yelled. A growled settled in the back of his throat.

Mario was terrified. Donkey Kong had been mad at him before but it was usually over petty things like who won a silly contest. But these circumstances were much more dire.

"Bowser has her! She saved me and he took her!" Mario blocked his face as best he could, knowing that there could be a possible punch coming his way. But Donkey Kong just stopped. He stopped shaking Mario and stared at him, his vision slightly blurry from rage.

Did he just hear him correctly? No, he couldn't have. Surely not. You were somewhere here, on the ground, with him.

He looked to the ship as reality set in. You were... up there?

"No..." He gasped as he dropped Mario. The man landed with wobbly legs and backed up away from his friend.

As DK took a couple steps forward, he felt cold.

"No, no, no, no," he repeated over and over. His hands grasped his face. Slowly he went to his knees, unwilling to blink in case he lost sight of the ship.

Luigi placed a hand on Mario's shoulder. Mario looked to his brother and Luigi saw he was telling the truth. The ungodly truth.

Peach watched DK begin to shake and stand. He turned and faced Mario.

"Kong, I... I'm sorry I..." Mario couldn't find the words.

"She saved you, and now Bowser has her."

Mario fiddled with his overalls. He'd never recalled feeling such fear and guilt.

"That monster has (Y/N), doing who knows what, because she saved you." Donkey Kong stalking over to his friend, slowly, on his feet and fists.

"...DK, I didn't mean-" Mario stumbled over what to say.

"Didn't mean what? To- to lose the battle? To break your promise of everything being "fine"? Or you didn't mean to get (Y/N) captured because you were too busy watching your own plan fall apart?!" DK screamed at Mario. His eyes were almost red, with tears forming.

Mario had tears of his own as he raised an arm over his face, not knowing what lengths DK would go to to release his anger.

Peach stood in front of Mario, “(Y/N) saved Mario by choice. This is not his fault.” She argued. She knew DK was hurting, but they weren't going to get you back by screaming. DK stopped and glared at the princess.

“So you’re saying it’s (Y/N)’s fault?" He challenged, despite knowing that wasn't what she meant.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Peach shook her head. "If we're going to blame anyone, blame Bowser. He took (Y/N)." She pointed to the ship.

DK glanced at the ship, his hard gaze weakened. Peach put a hand on his shoulder to make him turn around.

"And we're going to get her back."

DK watched her for a second, almost wanting a hug. But he didn't want a hug from Peach, or anyone, he wanted a hug from you. He wanted you in his arms, safe and sound. He glared at Mario as the guilty man kept his eyes on the gorilla warily.

DK slowly walked up to him. Everyone froze knowing he could snap at any moment. He stopped in front of Mario.

“If anything happens to her by the time we get there,” he spoke low at the level of a whisper. Mario didn't dare to look away. He noticed his friends voice almost shook, but DK remained steady. “I’m killing you.”

Mario knew Donkey Kong was telling the truth.

If you were hurt in any way, he was a dead man.

~

IT'S HERE!!!!!!

Yes, there will be a part 2! I didn't want you guys to have to wait any longer so here's the first part. Hope you enjoyed!

See you soon!

[martitheevans]

So I made this post and people seemed to like it so I did a little bit of a drabble thing for it. It's nothing much I just thought it'd make a cute little vignette

(Not really set in any particular episode, probably about Season four or five)

The Impala began to drift towards the centre line on the road for what had to be the fifth time in since they began driving, Sam sighed and clicked his fingers in front of Dean’s face. His eyes flew open and he swerved the car back on track. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled and turned up the barely audible tape in the deck. “Nodded off.” 

“Just pull over, man,” Sam suggested, too tired to drive himself. “It’s late, nobody’s going to find us. We’ll be fine.” 

“There’s gotta be a town soon. Get the map out,” Dean replied, Sam wasn’t entirely sure he’d even listened to his suggestion. “A motel. I don’t know about you, but I could go for a slightly warm soda from a vending machine right now.”

“Dean,” Sam insisted. “Stop the car.” 

“Stop your face,” Dean retorted, sighing dramatically. 

“Look,” Sam pointed over to a wooded area that was cleared up for hikers and families, complete with a car park. “Park there. We can sleep.” 

“It’s always nag, nag, nag, with you,” Dean commented and tutted, but he began to turn into the parking lot. “Yes, honey, I'll pull in right here, is that alright?” 

Sam tsked at him and they pulled in. Dean announced their arrival by braking abruptly, making Sam nearly headbutt the dashboard. He looked proud of himself then got out. Sam glared at him as he went. 

“You sleeping in the front or the back?” he asked.

“I’ve been too tall for the back since I was fifteen,” he replied. Dean opened the boot of the car for the blankets the kept for times like these. “But you, on the other hand, are just the right size for it. Hell, we could put you in the glove compartment.” 

“I'm not even that short-!” 

“Where’s the other blanket?” Sam interrupted when Dean pulled out one old, polyester blanket. Dean narrowed his eyes and searched around some more, then sighed. 

“Remember when we had to camp overnight for those vampires?” he asked, Sam groaned. “And somebody had to put out the campfire with it because they set the fire up somewhere it would easily spread-” 

“And that was nothing to do with the fact that someone had the genius idea to throw ‘just a little bit’ of gasoline on it because it ‘wasn’t lighting fast enough’ for them?” Sam retorted. “Nobody does that, Dean! That’s insane! You nearly lit the whole place up!” 

“Look, the point is,” Dean began waving him off. “We have one blanket and two of us.” 

They glared at each other for a seconds, before silently agreeing to a rock/paper/scissors battle. After a tense few seconds, Sam used rock, Dean used scissors. 

“Always scissors,” Sam jeered. Dean glared and shook his head. 

“Best of three,” he suggested. Sam sighed but obliged him. Rock, paper, scissors, shoot. Dean used paper, Sam used scissors. 

“And whenever I point it out you always switch to paper,” he continued. Dean groaned, they needed to figure out other ways to figure out stalemates than a game which is impossible to play with people you know too well. 

“I hope it’s filled with bedbugs,” Dean grunted, tossing the blanket at Sam’s face and closing the boot. The chill in the air already starting to get at him, no doubt beginning to have its affect in the car. 

He climbed into the car and curled in on himself in the backseat, keeping his jeans on, as uncomfortable as they were, to stave off the cold. He wished Sam night, and tried to get to sleep before the temperature fully set in. 

Even as his mind began to fall asleep, he was still aware it was getting fucking cold. He was shivering and his sleep was far from sound. Why was it so damn wintery in May anyway? 

Cas appeared in the car, which was stationary in a parking lot outside of a forest. He looked around in the dark for who he had come to see, spotting Sam first. He was stretched out as much as the footwell would allow him in the passenger seat. Dean was lay to Cas’s side, with his head pillowed on Sam’s empty, rolled-up canvas bag. 

Human sleep cycles were a mystery to Castiel, they seemed to waste so much time with it, or maybe it was just the Winchester’s that were so peculiar. Rarely they were ever asleep when it seemed to be the ‘appropriate’ time of day to do so. 

Something he did know was that when you wake a human, they become slightly hostile. So, he quickly decided that whatever he had come to tell them could wait, it wasn’t very time sensitive. Plus, he had been watching over Dean periodically since he had last seen him, he had to have been exhausted. 

He was about to leave when he cast a cursory checking glance at Dean and noticed his shaking form. He wasn’t awake, but he was cold, a sensation Cas had never felt but understood as unideal for sleeping conditions. Castiel couldn’t just leave him like that. 

Quietly, he shouldered off his trench coat, hoping it would be enough to keep him warm. He placed his over him, tucking it around him with the utmost gentleness so as not to disturb him. Dean seemed to almost immediately become more comfortable in it.  

Cas decided he quite liked the sleeping version of Dean, not any more than the awake version. It was pleasant to see him uninhibited by the literal weight of the world on his shoulders and lacking in the bite and sharpness that seemed etched into his sense of self. He was calm, and Cas liked seeing him calm. 

Then, he composed himself. Dean Winchester was an enigma to him. but he ought to remain that way. If being an angel as long as he had been had taught him anything, it was that resisting temptation was often the best route to take. He needed to remain professional if he wanted to keep his place. 

He left Dean wrapped in his coat, resolving to get it back the next day when the two brothers were awake, and disappeared. He didn’t stay around for the next morning, when Dean found himself strangely comforted by Cas leaving his coat to keep him warm. The feeling welling up something warm in his heart he hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

[florence-end]

Flying Home

Cassian x fem!reader (no use of y/n).

Warnings: attempted wing clipping/kidnapping so some violence/threat, hiding in a small space?

Summary: Cassian rescues you when some males from your camp are caught trying to clip your wings but can he keep you safe when they come back to finish the job?

Everyone freezes at the sight of the Lord of Bloodshed. Relief and fear, excitement and skepticism fill your body as you wait to see who will break the silence.

You were tied to the post in the centre of the Illyrian camp you grew up in, hissing and kicking at the males surrounding you as they attempted to clip your wings until you felt the presence of the approaching General, his seven siphons glowing brightly as they channelled his pure power. You felt the snap of the mating bond take hold in your chest as you met his eyes and you knew he felt it too. The males moments from maiming you must have caught on quickly as they hastily stepped back from you as if you were about to burst into flames.

You’ve heard Cassian and the rest of the High Lord’s inner circle are against wing clipping and have tried to ban it, but their protection has not reached your comparatively small and remote village. Surely if they cared so much, they would be ensuring the law was followed across all of Illyria so maybe the rumours are false. Maybe the males are actually just waiting for the General’s command to continue their brutality. You try to keep your face defiant and not give these monsters the satisfaction of your terror.

Cassian feels the onslaught of your heightened emotions hit him squarely in the chest. He notes your gritted teeth, set jaw, bound hands curled into fists, and he absorbs every drop of your rage as he finally addresses Iwan, the leader of the group who had taken you from your home not even ten minutes before.

“What the hell is happening here?” He snarls.

“We are doing what we must to protect our women. You and your half breed high lord would have them fighting and dying in wars if we allow them to fly so someone has to act in their best interests,” declares Iwan, although the slight tremor in his voice takes some of the conviction from his words.

Cassian lets out a growl so animalistic, you shiver. “Untie her now, you piece of shit. Before I rip your wings clean off your back.”

Iwan and his cronies begin to object, but a blast of red light erupts from the siphon in the centre of Cassian’s chest, knocking them all out cold.

“They’ll answer to the High Lord tomorrow morning. I won’t let them get away with this,” Cassian promises as he steps over them and carefully frees you from the ropes binding your wrists to the pole. The gentleness in his hands is so at odds with his size and power. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, unable to summon words right now as the adrenaline leaves your body. Mere minutes ago, you were happily nestled in your bed, and now you have escaped an attempted wing clipping and found your mate. You are overwhelmed.

Cassian ushers you into the cosy house just off the main square of the camp, his hand warm and comforting on your back. You’ve never been inside, but you know the small dwelling is reserved for only the most important visitors. The large male lit the fire, sat you down in front of it and wrapped a blanket around your shoulders. You stare into the flames, trying to force your spinning thoughts to catch up to your body and allow you to find your voice.

As a mug of warm tea is pushed into your hands, you pull your gaze from the fireplace and look up into the warm eyes that are already fixed on your face warily, as if waiting for you to flip back into the fight or flight headspace you were in when he arrived.

The tea soothes your throat, raw from screaming, and you croak out your name. Your mate smiles, the concern swirling in his eyes lessening slightly as he sits down next to you.

“It’s an honour to meet you. I’m Cassian. I’m sorry I didn’t arrive sooner tonight. I received the message that a wing clipping was to take place but no one knew which of the remote camps it would be.”

“You came all the way here to stop a clipping?” You ask, stunned that a member of the Night Court Inner Circle would go to such efforts to protect a lesser fae’s wings, Illyrian or not.

“Of course. No Illyrian should be deprived of their ability to fly,” Cassian responds with conviction. The remaining tension leaves your body when you find nothing but honesty in his face, lit by the fire before you.

Conversation flows from there as Cassian explains the abilities of his brother Azriel, who was the one to alert him about Iwan’s plans. In turn, you tell Cassian about your life, your friends at your camp, and your wish to learn to fight and join the Valkyries one day. As the night draws on, your head feels heavier and heavier until it drops onto your mate’s shoulder and you fall asleep. The last thing you register as you slip into unconsciousness is the press of Cassian’s lips against your hair.

In the morning, you wake up alone in the warm house, comfortably tucked under the blanket that had been wrapped around you last night. Cassian is nowhere to be found but a note on the table beside the sofa you currently occupy explains that the High Lord and other members of his family had arrived to deal with the group of wing clippers that had snatched you. The note also tells you that you will be safe where you are if you wish to stay put until he returns. You trust your new mate and settle back into the plush cushions, preparing to get some more sleep.

Your peace is short lived.

Suddenly the door crashes open and you hear unknown male voices dividing up areas of the house to search for you. You roll onto the floor, hidden from sight, and crawl to the nearest window with your wings tucked in tight. They’re ransacking the cosy house, and you can hear their weapons clanking with each heavy footstep. With your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you grab a small dagger that you mercifully spot tucked into the curtain, and you climb through the window.

Once out in the open of the camp, you flee. You know you can’t fly away as all the males in the camp will spot you immediately and catch you before you can escape. There’s no sign of your mate or his family and you know better than to shout for help. Instead you remain on foot, dashing down the main dirt track in the centre of the camp until you come to the small outbuilding that houses the wood reserves for fires during the winter months. You crawl through the hatch, back up into the furthest corner and grip your dagger in front of you. You would not be caught again.

You are unsure how much time passes as you stay crouched in the darkness. Male shouting and roaring can be heard, and you want to believe that Cassian has noticed your absence and is looking for you by now but you can’t risk it. Your muscles ache from your hunched position. You wish you had found a hiding place with a better escape route as you realise you’d be very easily trapped in this cold, dark structure if someone finds you.

Then a silhouette appears, peering through the hatch you used to climb into the storage building. You grip your dagger so tightly, your knuckles turn white. Your wings, already crumpled from your crouch against the wall, curl even tighter behind you as if you can hide them from the dark figure. Then, the shadowy stranger says your name and begins reaching toward you.

“Stay back! I have a weapon and I’ll cut your hand off if you come any closer!” You warn, silent tears now rolling down your face.

The male says your name again, his voice aiming to soothe. You notice the blue siphons on the back of his hand, so similar to Cassian’s.

“My name is Azriel. We haven’t met yet but I think my brother has mentioned me, my shadows. Can you see them?” He asks. You realise you can see what look like inky wisps of smoke dancing around the male’s hand and up his arm. You lower your dagger slightly and crawl forward to get a better view in the light.

Sure enough, shadows are swarming Azriel as if reporting every change of your heart rate and spike of fear so he can react accordingly. He offers you a small smile.

“I know you’re scared and overwhelmed but I won’t hurt you. I won’t let anyone else hurt you. Rhys and Mor have rounded up the remaining wing clippers so there is no one hunting you. Let me help you out of there and bring you back to Cassian. He’s tearing the camp apart looking for you and frankly I don’t feel like cleaning up more of his mess than I already have to.”

You smile despite yourself. It might be naive but you believe Azriel. You allow him to take your hand, although he doesn’t try to take your weapon from you, and guide you back out into the cold air. No sooner than your feet hit the ground, Cassian lands beside Azriel having flown straight to you as soon as Rhys saw your location in his brother’s mind. His movements are frantic as he strides forwards, his eyes scanning every inch of you for signs of injury. His hands twitch with the need to touch you, to physically feel that you’re alright.

And despite barely knowing him, despite all your past encounters with males that told you to be wary, despite not knowing whether he even wanted you as his mate, you drop the dagger and throw yourself into his arms. He catches you easily, allowing you to bury yourself in his chest and shielding you from the cold with his large solid arms. The bond thrums with your combined relief and you never want to leave the safety of his embrace. No words are spoken until the High Lord and his third-in-command appear behind you.

“Let’s get you lovebirds home without any more dramatics, shall we?” Mor teases. You feel Cassian’s annoyance flare up but it disappears just as quickly when you let out a light laugh.

A home with Cassian sounds like heaven.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Way more people saw my first fic than I ever expected to so I’m super nervous to post something else now. I hope you like it! I might write something for Az next. All feedback is appreciated 💕