#all the names for all the enjoyers. it’s been like a decade since he was introduced yall we need to make a decision

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Thinking about how every crewmate aside from Jimbei joined because Luffy saved them from something… but Jimbei was always the one saving Luffy. They share scars and he’s the only one on the crew with the same blood type. Every crewmate shares this deep bond of friendship and admiration but Jimbei shares a bond of blood and battle and viscera.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

1 - Wolves of the Lone Stag

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (slow burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 16.1k

Warnings: Slow Burn, Strained parent-child issues, mentions of minor character death, secret relationship, arranged marriage, injured/sick child mention, smut, p in v, slight dom/sub dynamics, loss of virginity

Notes: Reader is firstborn daughter of Stannis Baratheon, based off the show but will include direct book elements, slight canon divergence. First Chapter is really long due to set up, subsequent future chapters won't be quite such a massive read. Chapter Two Here.

Travelling along the Kingsroad was far longer and more tedious with this company. Normally you would spend only so much time on here from White Harbour, most of the journey done on sea. Yet now, there were far too many people and it’s leader insisting on treating the journey as it’s own adventure. By the time you reached Winterfell it would be a month on horseback and no one to entertain your morose demeanour. Though perhaps you had to consider that it wasn’t just the company of the others that was less then ideal.

You had the supposed misfortune of being the daughter to the less favoured of the three Baratheon brothers. Robert, King Robert to those in public company, was a more complicated man. A mix of a man who successfully kept the peace for over twenty years but also was as unhappy on the throne and was unafraid to show it. He did however, have enjoyment in wine, hunting, and did hold a jovial laughter that kept people around him.

Your other uncle, was much more agreeable. Renly was the youngest of them and was charismatic and well liked. He was naive, not really a man suited for leadership but he did the best with what he knew to do. Closer to your age, you often found yourself spending time with him and it was right now that you were annoyed he chose to stay back in Kings Landing. A month with the King, his own family and the entire royal brigade and not one of them knew how to get a smile from you.

That was a trait from your father no doubt. Stannis Baratheon was the middle child, and he was easily the most disliked. He was cold, distant, unemotional and seldom allowed laughter at his table. He took his job seriously, more seriously then the King did his sometimes. In his prime, he was a proven battle commander and he never lost that. Robert was a warrior and he was happiest as such, but Stannis had never stopped being a commander and whether it made him liked or not, it taught you to be who you were now.

A Lady of the House Baratheon, firstborn daughter to Stannis and heir of Dragonstone was your current position and you were taught to uphold that name. Often found with a flat expression, close to a scowl as you walked the capitol you found nothing to enjoy there. Not that Dragonstone was where you’d find happiness either. The only place that had never been your home was the one you felt it in.

You had turned eight when your father had begun sending you out. Brought up, he ensured you had a Lord’s education as well as what all girls were taught. If you were to take up the mantle after him, he wanted you to learn from those that would teach you to be like him. That was when he sent you to Winterfell for the first time. Not a friend of Lord Eddard of House Stark, but your father did respect him the most. Two men both stern with upholding honour and justice, always doing what is right and what is honourable rather then what they wanted.

You spent seven months in Winterfell, and it was the first time your mother and father hadn’t been there for your name day. At the time, it made you sad but you had long since gotten over it. Over more then a decade had passed since your first stay in the north and many name days had been spent there with no word from your family. Well, at least your parents. The only family member you spoke too and more fondly with then Renly, was your baby sister. Shireen Baratheon was not just the light of your life but your fathers too. Some used to say that you were the only one who could make Stannis smile but you were nothing compared to how he smiled at that little baby.

You were fine with her being the favourite, she was your favourite family member as well.

Not long after baby Shireen had beaten a bout of horrific illness, your father had been summoned to Kings Landing. The King telling him that he was of no use to the realm shut away on Dragonstone, and he was to come to the capitol and sit on the small council as Master of Ships. He had taken you with him, and thus your new home was the wretched city full of backstabbers and manipulators.

Back and forth you went from Kings Landing to Winterfell, each stay growing longer and each stay you grew closer to the Starks then you did anyone in the Red Keep. Lord Stark was the perfect example of a good leader, warden of the North and inspired nothing but loyalty amongst the northerners and made you as welcome as anyone in his home. You followed him around most days, learning from him, watching how he handled diplomacy and made his lessons your own.

It was that how you got to know his ward, Theon Greyjoy. A rambunctious lad who listened diligently in formality and was crass and brash outside of that. You knew he would hate Kings Landing but often found yourself at your fathers side wishing the smart ass was next to you, nudging you with his elbow every time you were too closed off for your own good. It was easy to forget that he was technically the Starks prisoner, he fit into their family, the north as well as you did.

Not quite a leader as you were being taught to be, but you were confident once he had the chance to prove himself, you’d expect great things from him. You’d gotten a raven from him while on the road, and in his usual style he spent some time making fun of you for having to be “shacked up with the lamest of the three”.

Right. The reasons your company headed to Winterfell. The King had one, you were being forced into another though. The news shocking you as Stannis told you of your new duty the night before you left was double. That he was leaving for Dragonstone and you were to return to Kings Landing with Lord Stark and serve as acting Master of Ships in his absence.

He wasn’t just dumping his responsibilities onto you with no explanation of his distant behaviour and secrecy, your father had also dumped a marriage onto you and told you that you were to marry and come back. As if he didn’t just dictate your entire life to be like his. “You will marry the Stark boy, and with or without him you are to return in my place.”

Trying to reason with him, “You’re expecting me to have, what? A night maybe two with my new husband and then leave for however long you decide?”

Not even the slightest change of expression, but there was a twinge of regret in his eyes that was soon covered up. “I didn’t decide this alone. My brother, our king, has decided it with no room for question. I’m sorry, but you’re a Baratheon. You’re my daughter. And sometimes our duty requires us to marry not for love, but for the good of the realm.”

You had spoken to your betrothed since the announcement, but had yet to see him in person. A major reason as to why you wished Renly had come with you. Have someone to ease your nerves on the months ride, instead you were entirely on your own lost in what you were losing.

After all, you received a raven from not just Robb after the announcement. And it was that second one, and the finality of it’s contents that shattered the still remaining rosy dreams you once felt as if you had a lifetime to indulge in. Who your betrothed was, wasn’t the upset in any way. It was the unavoidable conclusion of the love in your heart that simply wasn’t allowed to be.

As the party approached Winterfell, your heart begun to race.

The crisp cool air on your face that once relaxed you, only stoned it further into a solid expressionless pose. Reminding yourself that you weren’t just here as yourself, you were to represent your father and you wouldn’t do so by falling apart. You rode into the walls right up near the very front alongside your craven of a cousin. He represented the luxurious royal side of the family, and you the steadfast duty and justice.

The House guard stood all around the courtyard as well as many people who simply worked close by or wanted to just see the King. Riding into the main area, you refused to look. The Starks all stood with their closest men behind them but you looked nowhere but above the heads of everyone with a straight back atop of your horse.

The carriage which carried the Queen and the other two of her royal children filed in and revealed the King following suit. Your eyes forcing to stay nowhere but him, and it struck part of you that his deep scowl seemed to just be a trait that was shared amongst much of this family. As your party stayed atop their horses, you watched everyone near kneel down as Robert was assisted off his horse.

Watching him make a straight line towards the Starks, he stood in front of the kneeling Lord Stark beckoning him with his hand to stand. Everyone around them rising in toe as you watched the two old friends look stoically at one another. The quiet in the courtyard as everyone waited.

King Robert, it seemed, left posing the stoic formality of the Baratheons to you. Looking down at his friend’s frame and casually commenting, “You got fat.”

Two magnets, designed by the gods to be brought together your eyes met without any thought. His grey ones widened with a playful glint and a raise of the sides of his mouth as if to say, “He got fat?” You, broke just as easily. Quirking your eyebrows up slightly, trying and failing to cover a smirk as you flickered your eyes in gesture to the King, agreeing with his silence as you both instantly looked away from the other. Knowing neither would smother such a begging grin if you kept glancing at each other.

Robert greeting each member of the family, making polite chat with the Stark parents you climbed off your horse. Your head angled enough to see your cousin, Joffery, staring at the direction you just had with a smirk you would describe in private as slimy.

You weren’t the only one with a betrothal in mind for your King, but it was the other Stark which would suffer. Somehow whatever genes made the Baratheons so respected, had skipped Joffery in every single capacity. He was more Lannister then he was his father, and not even with the decency to be like the one lion which you could speak to without agitation.

You couldn’t say Sansa was the one you got along with the most, but watching the way the prince looked at her, you pitied what she couldn’t possibly know she was in store for.

“Take me to your crypt, I want to pay my respects.”

Cersei Lannister, the Queen, barley made an effort to toss any level of genuinity in her voice. “We’ve been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait.”

Her term of endearment sounding as fake to your Uncle as it did you, he ignored her and summoned Lord Stark anyways. The Queen glaring as they walked away, and directed it towards the youngest Stark daughter, Arya as she without any care of properness, asks where the “Imp” was. The Imp being the Queens younger brother, Tyrion.

Were you to be honest, as you unpacked some of your things from your horse you could only think of one place he would go. And he certainly would not find such a place inside the castle walls. Seeing the Queens twin brother, Ser Jaime of the Kingsguard to “go and find the little beast.” Holding another smirk back, you heard footsteps approaching.

Not the ones you normally would expect, he wouldn’t come to you here. Not now, not in front of the royal family, all these people, and certainly not after learning you’ve come here to marry. Instead, the voice that spoke behind you was the only other person you’d care to see, calling your name.

Robb Stark, Lord Eddard Stark’s eldest true born son stood tall behind you. His northern accent deep and thick, and drenched in a soothing warmth that always felt comforting yet unfitting of the cold he lived around. Turning to face him, you could still see the trailing remnants of the Queen and her children in the distance.

Play your part, your fathers voice told you. With a slight nod of your head and a smile you clearly amused Robb with such a proper curtsy. “My lord.”

A raise of his eyebrows, he had less care of hiding such a smirk. “Is that how we are playing it, my lady?”

You had to bite your tongue to keep from smiling, but still failed somewhat. Robbs smirk growing more playfully smug as he watched you lose your static composure. “I don’t know what you mean, my Lord. I am here with the royal company, we are nothing if not with our courtesies at all times.”

Dropping the act, Robb rolled his eyes and stepped closer. “Well if you’re people have a problem with it, they will just have to get over it.” Pulling you into a hug, you felt part of your racing heart and screaming nerves settle a bit.

You’ve known Robb since that first visit when you were eight. No matter what you were both being shoved into, he wasn’t anything near a stranger. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest as your face was snuggle tugged into the deep browns of his cloaks fur. Soft as anything, they helped sooth your heart more and he seemed to hold you for as long as it did his as well. His voice low in your ear this time, “We’ll talk in private.”

Pulling away with a deep inhale, you nodded. Face falling back into a stoic composure. It sometimes took you a little bit to drop the harsh demeanour you lived with once you got to Winterfell, but with this company in toe you felt bad that the Starks weren’t going to really get you in any relaxed form. Nodding at Robb you fell quiet, but he was happy to take up the mantle with enough volume for those around to be satisfied with. “Let me help bring your things up, my lady.”

In the corner of your eye as Robb slung the heavier of your bags over his shoulder and you insisting on carrying at least the lighter one, you caught sight of his mother. Lady Catelyn Stark, originally born to House Tully, was something of a complicated relationship for you. You admired her in countless ways, and you saw her more as a mother then you did your own for many years growing up. But there was no mistaking the slight rift that was caused by the only other member of the family you were closer too then her eldest son.

That one though, was nowhere to be seen. You both knew full well that such a meeting was going to have to happen in private, and you hoped you would find time to sneak away from the feast tonight to get it. You two had to talk, you needed to talk to him before you marry or your resolve might crumble.

She watched you and Robb politely walk through the court towards the main doors. Describing their home as a castle felt odd after living in both Dragonstone and Kings Landing. The Starks castle in Winterfell was home in your heart, not a fancy collection of stonework designed to impress. Robb had written that the news came as surprise to all of them, that Lady Catelyn had tried to protest saying that the King shouldn’t just force this on you.

Her husband had to remind her, that they married of duty and look where they are now. You hoped that your companionship with Robb’s brother had not soured her opinion of you being capable of being a good wife. Robb didn’t have your heart the way he did, but he would be the one to keep it from now on and you hoped Lady Catelyn wouldn’t hold it against you.

Falling in love with Robb was not the impossible, in fact he could make that quite easy.

Making small talk of the trip here as you and Robb passed a numerous amount of servers and maids scurrying about the halls, you were thankful for how well you knew him. That the tensity in his stature would only relax the second the door would shut and you both would drop this growing painful act.

Your room was in a corridor away from the main family, closer to where Theon stayed. Many times the main four of you would stay in either his or your room to drink, laugh and get into trouble all without the keen ears of the Stark parents. Your room in Winterfell was a place that you could stop being the daughter and first born heir of Lord Stannis Baratheon, and just be you.

The room had been freshly cleaned, new sheets draped on the bed frame as well as a cozy fur begging you to plop down onto it with a sigh and a nap to boot. Robb dropped your bag down by the window, holding his hand to take the one in your hands to join it. Turning to you, he watched as you let out a shaking sigh.

Your face dropping, finally free to shine in a tinge of shame and exhaustion as you sat down on the edge of the bed, your palms flat on your thighs. Opening your mouth to speak, he cut you off with a sharp edge. “Don’t apologize.” Your brows narrowed in question, but Robb paced over to lean against the wall across from you. His arms crossed casually in front of his chest as he looked into your eyes. “You were about to say sorry for all of this, and I don’t want to hear it.”

Head dropping, you bit your tongue more and nodded. Hands clasping together in a fidget before returning to rest flat on your thighs. His eyes shined blue, and out of the sunlight his hair looked far closer to a Stark brown then it did a Tully Red, if your heart didn’t weigh a thousand pounds you might have spent more time admiring him. “I just,” Sighing again you looked away, unable to cope with the unblinking seriousness in his eyes. “I only found out before you did. I don’t want you thinking I asked for this, or am trying to force you into this.”

Robbs sigh wasn’t defeated, but annoyed. You hadn’t the courage to look again yet. Your name slipping from his tongue with a seriousness. “No one here thinks that.” Glancing up at him, you felt your resolve slip even more. “No one.”

Not that Robb would have any reason to suspect it, but you were desperately hoping that one person in particular didn’t think that out of everyone. Robb took a few steps forward, hoping to beckon you to look up at him, but instead chose to sit down next to you. Enough space between you to not be intrusive. Your voice was small, quiet like a whisper and you knew this was not the words of a proud lady, but just a girl. “He hadn’t even brought up marriage in years. Not since..”

You faded off, both of you know what you were going to say but luckily Robb knew that reliving it would not make you feel any better. He leaned closer to you without breaking your personal space. “Your father has talked to you about marriage more then he has me, at least. In some ways you’re more prepared for this then I am.”

Laughing out, you didn’t turn to see the soft smile on his lips at the sound. “Oh I doubt that. You haven’t had the pleasure of meeting my parents. Between them, and being around the King and Queen’s marriage? It it weren’t for yours I’d assume every married couple is bitter and unloving to the point of near contempt.”

A breathy laugh leaving him, you were thankful once more that at least your husband to be was someone whom you didn’t have to hold you thoughts around. Robb leaned back on the bed, his palms outstretched to rest against the furs and look at you partially from the back and side. “We could get separate beds if it makes you feel better.”

Your eyes narrowed playfully at the mocking in his tone. Quick to turn around with the intention of snarking back he took you by surprise. Lurching forward to wrap his hands around your waist and drag you back with him, both of you laying now back against the bed as he respectfully moved his hands from you. His eyes shined with laughter however, and it loosened yours enough to laugh out loud.

Playful words sat at the tip of your tongue, but what came out was far from it. “It feels like he’s planning something,” turning to look at Robb’s profile against the light coming from the window. “My father. He and Lord Arryn have been doing something in secret, and he kept me away from it on purpose. Both of them seemed to be worried about something, and then...”

“Then he died.” Lord Jon Arryn, Hand of the King and a long time friend of both the King Robert and Lord Stark had passed from a fever that took him in one night.

You nodded. Glancing up to the ceiling as your hands rested along your stomach. “He was fine one day, and then he just...not even a day later was when my father called me to his office. Told me everything, about coming here, about your father, then just..ended the conversation with this.” Your eyes narrowed as you recalled the sternness of his rasp.

“You’re to marry the Stark boy then return here in my place. I won’t have any more questions on the matter.”

Robb was lost in thoughts of his own, tone light yet distant when he spoke up. “He wants my father to be Hand of the King. He hasn’t even been in Kings Landing since the war.”

You understood why. Not just the horrors inflicted on Lord Starks father and brother, but it was a den of vipers all wanting you to play a game that a man like him would want no part in. None of the Starks belonged there, too good for a disgusting place the capitol was. Sighing yourself, you shrugged. “He’ll hate being there as much as my father does, as much as I do. At least I’m the Kings niece I’m supposed to belong there.”

Robb turned onto his side and you followed suit. Your dress hardly made for proper warmth like his attire was, but the Queen insisted that you dress properly to impress your to be husband. As if the man in question hadn’t seen you covered in dirt, mud, bruises and knocked you into the dirt countless times over the years. You didn’t feel like yourself anywhere but here, and yet with the royals all here you still didn’t feel like yourself.

Just a plaything meant to look pretty and play the part. For once, you felt like a normal highborn lady you supposed. Born and bred to be a wife that's born to breed. You were looking at Robb, and yet you reminded yourself with a lurch of your heart to push back the other face in your mind.

Later you told yourself.

Robb’s voice was low, soft, and with an affection that at the very least, wasn’t unusual for him. “You haven’t belonged there in a long time.”

Your tone dropped quieter then his. “Where do I belong then?”

To his credit, it wasn’t with himself that he said. “Here. You belong here.”

By nightfall you still hadn’t seen him. You’d seen many of the others. Arya being the first, practically running past Robb into your room and leaping into a hug with zero sense of formality. You knelt down somewhat to meet her with a loud laugh. With a zillion questions about if you’re staying, did you know, does this make you her sister, you were blissfully reminded of the only other girl who held your heart like that.

Shireen wasn’t a trouble maker like Arya had a tendency to be, but they had a similar spirit. She felt as much like your sister as the one back on Dragonstone was by birth. Sansa had to call her away, annoyed as ever and with a fluster as she addressed you. The paintings of a crush all over her face from the blonde haired fowl faced cousin, and you wished it was any other boy Sansa was to be promised too.

Well, as Robin Arryn briefly popped into your mind you laughed to yourself. Maybe not any of other boy. Starling the handmaiden attending to your dress as you shook your head in apology. You could dress yourself easily for a normal night in the North, but alas the Queen insisted that you impress your husband to be. As if he wasn’t someone you had known for over a decade as one of your very closest friends.

You did however, stop them fervently as they reached for your hair. The Queen could dress and paint you up like a doll and you wouldn’t really fuss at the treatment, but you would rather cross the wall and throw yourself into a frozen lake before you’d let any of those southern up-dos go anywhere near your hair. If judging by the look you got from the Queen during the feast, she wasn’t pleased in any way, but then again she rarely was ever pleased by anything.

Sat next to Robb during the feast, you were thankful that he and the other guys at the table treated you like they always did. To a degree, it was a bit off putting by your much more distant attitude but judging by the glances you made to the Queen they gathered enough that you were more on guard. The hall was filled to the brim with people, ale, music and laughter.

Off in the distance you could see King Robert laughing with a group of men, and his hands happily exploring a woman who was most certainly not his wife. Most didn’t care, and the ones who did never would say anything. He was King he could do what he wanted. Lady Catelyn much to your sympathy was stuck up at the main table sat next to the Queen herself and struggling to find any conversation that didn’t make the woman utterly miserable.

“Out of all the Northerns, you get stuck with this one?” Theons voice rang out, a lightness in his eyes and ale in his veins. You leaned your elbow on the table and pointed at him with a playful raise of your eyebrows.

“At least this one’s pretty, Greyjoy.”

Laughter from all around the table, and even finally sneaking one from yourself. Theon would sometimes flirt with you, but never in a serious manner. It almost was a game. He would start with a flirtatious comment and it quickly spun into who could jokingly insult the other more after you deny him with a snarky remark first. “Aye, but you’d get some nice experience with me.”

Robb tossing a ripped piece of bread at him with a half hearted protest of his own experience, but you leaned back in your seat bringing your mug to your lips. “What experience is that, exactly? Paying women to pretend to moan for you isn’t exactly what I had in mind for my wedding night.”

Pushing it back down, if you joked about it you didn’t have to think about the reality. With no experience of your own, you weren’t immune to the whispers of girls and women of their nights with pain and blood. At least you would get one single thing right come time for that part of the wedding. You almost didn’t though, and the longer you kept trying to not think about it, the more you felt yourself looking for someone you knew wasn’t there.

You had to talk to him, but the first day in Winterfell was just far too busy for it thus far.

Opportunity luckily, arrived in the form of Arya being unable to behave. You and Robb had been joking and laughing about something when the sight of food flinging from another side of the room caught your eyes. The food in question splatting directly onto Sansa’s face as she yelled out indigently.

The quickness of Arya smiling and going back to pretend as if she didn’t do anything got a laugh out of you, but also drew the attention of Lady Catelyn. Gesturing to Robb over, his face fell more serious as he brushed a hand over your lower back as he stood up. Grabbing Arya around the sides and hoisting her up. “Time for bed.”

Glancing around the room, Lady Catelyns eyes elsewhere, as was the Queens. Lord Stark talking to who you recognized as his brother Benjen and now Robb gone you took the opportunity you really shouldn’t have. Standing up, you made your way slowly to the entrance, downing the last of the ale before slinking out unseen.

Or rather, unseen by all but the watchful eyes of a golden Lion.

Alone for once, you allowed yourself to be annoyed. The chill of the air hit you with a sting as you were entirely undressed for the cold of the night. Not even graced with a seat at a lower table, no he was put out here as if his existence was so offensive to anyone but her. His birth wasn’t his fault, and as much as you admired and liked her?

It never failed to chip away at something angering in you, how Lady Catelyn treated Jon Snow.

You heard his voice before you saw him, but it the second voice that took you by surprise. “Did I offend you? Sorry. You are the bastard, though.”

Lord Tyrion Lannister in your sights slowly walked up to Jon, who was faced away from you. There was a bluntness in his words but also a sympathy in his eyes. Leaning back against a stone wall, you watched in quiet.

“Lord Eddard Stark is my father.”

And yet, just as so many liked to remind him, Lord Tyrions words were those that many have said in response. “And Lady Stark is not your mother. Making you, a bastard.”

Watching him with narrowed eyes, you held back any defence in your blood. Likely he was the only Lannister which you didn’t entirely distrust towards him. Jon Snow had more then enough people ensuring him he would never be like his brothers and sisters.

Your arms crossed over your chest, and breathe visible in the cold you listened to the man tell him wear what he is like armour. Jon, however, did not seem to be in such a mood. His voice was low, a thick northern accent that came out more like an entrancing rasp then Robb’s warm soothing one. It also, was lined with that of a temper you knew the older Jon got, the more he struggled with. “What the hell do you know about being a bastard?”

Fingertips itching to reach out, but you stayed put. Listening to Lord Tyrion’s final comments before departing to whatever plans he had for the night. “All dwarves are bastards in their fathers eyes.”

Jon wasn’t heartless, nor stupid. Somewhere inside him, you knew he sympathized with the Lannister but being shut out of a feast in the cold, on top of what you knew was looming? Jon had little room left to care about simmering that temper.

Lord Tyrion caught your eye as he passed, a tilt of his head and question in his eye you simply looked flat and unblinking. He wouldn’t say anything, but that didn’t mean he didn’t store his curiosity about your sudden watchful appearance for later.

Slowly approaching, you called out only once the sound of doors closing behind you left the courtyard in silence from the muffled party behind you. “Think he’s dead yet?”

Spinning to face you at the sound of your voice, you hated how unable you were to quell your heart looking at him. Walking towards him, you saw Jon put the sword away entirely before circling around to meet you halfway. It took less then second for both of you to glance around, watch for the no eyes any could see before he closed the rest of the gap.

Scooping you up into his arms, almost spinning you in place as you both held the other tightly. “I missed you.” Your voice muffled in this luscious dark curls, he put you down gently on your feet. His hands on your upper arms still before glancing up. Changing his mind, he turned. Pulling you along with him with a hand on your lower back.

Jon was the only man who could silently drag you away into a dark corner in the dead of night and you wouldn’t question him in any way, shape or form. Neither of you said anything, but out of everyone Jon was the one person who you didn’t need it with. Both of you were always on the air of more quiet, and it was never more appreciated then alone with the other, never worried about having to fill the air with talking to be comfortable.

Once you had reached far enough away, Jon led you into a small building, mostly empty save for some storage and one lit lantern. Door closed, he turned to face you once more with silence. His eyes begging to say too much, but neither of you could handle it in that second. Once more you found the others arms. This time, the desperation was felt both ways.

Both of you letting your eyes shut, and your hands rest freely and yet far to intimate to be platonic as you stood together. It was minutes before he pulled back. One hand resting on your waist and the other back on your upper arm. He watched as your hands wrung together, afraid to touch him. You hated how gently he always said your name, forcing you to look up and meet his eyes.

One of you had to say something, and you ripped the bandage off first. “You’re really joining them?”

His nod was confident, and it broke your heart that much more. “The St-”

Shaking your head you felt your eyes sting, you hated feeling this way. “Don’t give me that.” Your fingers twitched wanting to reach out, and he caught the movement. “Don’t tell me what you think everyone else wants to hear.”

Was his response a diversion from the truth, or an answer you didn’t know for sure. “You’re marrying Robb.” Like no other, Jon could tell right away that you bit your tongue in anxiety. The hand on your arm moving up to gently trace over the side of your jaw until he felt you relax under the touch. “I’m not mad at you. Neither of you really had a say in it.”

Ever so slowly, you hesitantly left your hands drift forward until the very tips of your fingers rested against his stomach. Much like earlier with Robb, were you not wracked with too much in your head, you might have paused to enjoy the feeling of how sturdy and firm his muscles had grown. Instead you let your head hang, knowing he wanted you to look at him. “And you feel like The Night’s Watch is the only place you belong?”

Were you anyone else, Jon would have pulled away in frustration. But his time with you was limited, and his hands always ached to touch you when you were near. “It is now.” Head rising up to look at him, your brows narrowed. “You’ll marry him, go back to Kings Landing with my father and sisters, and leave me what? Here with the brother who gets the one thing that used to be mine, and his mother who hates me?”

Something rushed up, and an anger almost yelled out instead of reason. “Jon, I’m not trying to leave you behind.”

He sighed, jaw clenching as his hand on your waist held you a slight tighter. “No. You’re doing your duty, and I’m doing mine.”

For a while you both just stood there, looking at the other. In your heart, you felt stolen from, but your mind reasoned for the best. Just as the silence between you was too much, Jon slowly leaned in.

Your back pressed against the wall and he having moved to crowd you against it, his head dipping down enough as you exhaled shakily. The nerves in you, always managing to make him smirk. But just as you felt the others breath on your faces, a door in the distance opened. Music and laughter and the sounds of a group making drunken rackets paused Jons movement.

If it were any normal day, you’d just say not here.

But you and Jon knew better, in a few days, he would stand in the godswood and watch you marry his brother. And soon after that he would join a group that cut your love off from him for life. You couldn’t kiss now, and not ever again.

It didn’t stop either of you from seeing the other after the night was over. But with the royal company here, with you and Robb spending more time together, you only had time to see each other in the secrets of the dark. What made that much harder though, was how little suddenly anyone looked forward to a wedding.

Bran had climbed the walls and towers thousands of times with a firm grip. And yet, while climbing the one tower which no one use in decades, Bran somehow fell so far to the ground, no one yet knew if he would wake up.

And amongst all that, the Queen insisted, “We still have a wedding to put on.”

The entire family was on edge. Maester Luwin has monitored him closely, and Lady Catelyn even closer having not left his side. You didn’t blame her one bit. It was before anyone else was really awake when you went to go see her.

Slowly peeking in, asking if it was alright you come in for a moment and you were thrown back over ten years ago. Looking at your own mother, Selyse, and how broken and lost she was as Maester Cressen warned her to prepare herself for Shireen to be sent away for good.

Walking by her side, you sat gently on the bed beside Bran. It was cruel. Only a boy of ten, and with the softest, most adorable little face you’d ever seen and yet he lay in bed broken in too many ways. If he woke, he’d never walk again. You thought to yourself, maybe if you were to be a proper northern, you should start praying to the Old Gods. Because it certainly seemed like praying to the Seven had done nothing. It left your baby sister disfigured for life, and so far they seem to have left Bran a cripple should they even allow him to wake.

Laying on the other side was his yet unnamed Direwolf. Hardly more then puppies when you first arrived, you had been shocked to see how they had grown. Sitting asleep by his masters side though, you hoped he would bring little Bran any comfort.

Lady Catelyn was silent beside you, working away on something you hadn’t quite understood. You didn’t ask, you weren’t a mother and you didn’t want her to have to explain her grief to you. Your hand gently ran over Brans wrist, your thumb feeling his pulse weak but still beating if you pressed firm enough. “My sister had greyscale as a baby.”

You felt her look up at you, but your eyes were trained on the adorable boy soon to be your brother. “My father bought her a doll from a merchant, and next thing we knew it was spreading fast over the side of her face. She was just a baby she didn’t even understand what was happening to her, but we all did.”

You felt your eyes sting, but forced them back with a harsh swallow. “I’ve never heard my mother cry like that. She lost four boys in the womb, and yet that was the most I’ve ever seen her cry. And my father?” You stumbled. Voice coming out harsh, and cracked slightly from the pressure to appear steady. “People used to say the only thing that he would ever smile for is me, but they don’t understand. They didn’t see the desperation in his eyes, how far and hard he searched to bring people to Dragonstone just for a chance to save her life. And none of them saw the tears in his eyes when he was finally allowed to hold her again.”

Reaching up with your other hand you ran your hand over the side of Brans face, brushing some hair to the side. “I’m sorry. Me and Robb both tried telling them to put it off, but the Queen insisted that a wedding might do everyone some good.” She tried saying your name, but you interrupted her. “It’s okay if you don’t come. If I were a mother, I don’t think I’d leave him either.”

Looking back at her, there were tears in her eyes and a soft smile that broke your heart. Your relationship with her was always complicated, but in this moment, all you saw was what no one had given to your mother when it was Shireen.

Leaning over to her, you hugged her tightly. The pain in her heart evident in how both weak yet tightly she hugged back. Pressing a kiss to her forehead you spoke quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Passing by the busy servants and suspiciously watchful Queen you paid no mind to the preparations that were to be for you tomorrow. At first it had felt like you and Robb were to be wed for some unknown plot of your fathers, but now it felt like a distraction.

Don’t look at the broken boy in bed, look at the happy couple. For their own pain, you had to hand it to the three of them. Lord Stark, Robb, and Jon truly what Starks were made of. Strong willed, and keeping calm acting as a pillar for the much younger and more worried siblings. Arya clearly a big influence on her direwolf Nymeria, as the wolf was agitated and struggled to sit still the past days. On multiple occasions, you found the wolf almost trying to rile up her own siblings to varying success.

Her and little Rickons direwolf Shaggydog had the most energy. As if getting out their tension by chasing and play fighting. Sansa’s Lady was truly an apt name. Stuck by her side and was poise and put together, only getting in the way to provide any comfort to the redhead in what Sansa thought were moments no one was looking.

Grey Wind was as strong headed as Robb. Their mother gone, he had taken up the mantle of leader of the pack and seemed to be a calming presence for the others. Much like how Robb’s confidence in ensuring his siblings Bran would be alright, provided such comfort to them. The more time you spend with Robb during the day, the more used to Grey Wind you got.

He grew larger then the others, a gorgeous mix of greys and browns in his colour and the more comfortable with a new closeness which Robb grew with you over the past few days, the easier it was for Grey Wind to come to your side when not with his own master. Lord Stark had joked that they seemed to sense you were about to become a wolf yourself.

It was the final direwolf however that you enjoyed the most. Pure white with striking red eyes, Ghost was smaller then the rest but quick and silent. He made very little noise if ever, but was always aware of his surroundings. Keeping out of the way without sacrificing his watchful canine eyes from their view, and listened to his master better then any of them.

Jon and Ghost it seemed, were one in the same. From the same family, but not truly one of the pack as the others were. While the others followed their master like an animal companion, Ghost and Jon were almost like friends instead. Certainly he took Jons feelings around people seriously, considering that as you sat out in the godswood while the moon set itself up in the night sky, you were suddenly almost thrown off balance.

Looking down, the small white direwolf had leaped into your lap. Leaning up to give your cheek a lick before settling in. You scratched at his back, “I don’t know what you’re asking for, but I’m getting up in about ten seconds.”

“Maybe he just likes how soft you are.” Looking up, you utterly failed to fight back both the fluster in your eyes and the embarrassed smile that you tried to hide, turning away from him.

Jon’s curls looked more wild and free again, growing out quickly from the clean cut given before your arrival. The wilder look suited him better. His cloak around his shoulders had a bright closer to white fur around him that you knew first hand was warm and comforting. Coming to sit next to you, he reached over and ran his fingers over Ghosts ear, making him shake his head with a barley audible huff at being disturbed. You both laughed gently, were it not a wolf in your lap, a commoner would mistaken you both for that of a couple with their newborn.

You were to be married tomorrow, and in two days you and Jon would part ways for what could be life for all you knew. Two days, but tonight was your last. Tomorrow you would be Lady Stark, wife of Lord Robb Stark, and there was no room in that duty for another or fairness in your heart.

Leaning against his shoulder, you knew in the eyes of the old gods there was no judgment as you rested your head there. His arm coming to pull you into his side as he looked down to you, your own trained on Ghost.

More then once you and Jon had almost kissed, it would be too easy. To fall into it again. You didn’t fall into it the first time, it was just a bond that always existed. The last time you had ever kissed, was when you came close to giving him something else.

The opportunity was right there, and no one would have been there to stop you, but neither of you were people who could so easily push past the honour you were raised with. Deep down in his mind, Jon knew you could never just marry someone like him, not for who you were. He just didn’t expect to come to the finality of it all, only months after almost having you.

Not that he told it to you, but there was a smugness in Jon that said that at least if he had one thing over Robb, or two, was that he was your first kiss. Knew what your lips tasted like, and knew what a cruelly addicted sight your bare body looked like. Though, not if he asked you, you’d say that wasn’t a perk.

Reminding Jon that he was muscle and you weren’t. Only receiving a dark, undoubtedly lustful look as he muttered that your softness is exactly what he dreams about before kissing you, having pushed you back into the furs of his own bed.

A far off moment, sitting together now, cuddled with his cloak around you against the Weirwood tree for the last time. “We never had a chance did we?” Pulling back, Jon tried looking at you with a slight question in his narrowed brows, but you just continued to run your fingers gently over the slumbering Ghost. “I mean, being with you is easy. It’s always been easy, but being together?”

Resting his chin on the top of your head, he breathed in deeply. “No. No we never had a chance.”

The truth didn’t make it hurt any less. But you weren’t children anymore. You would marry Robb, return to Kings Landing and serve on the small council at the Hand of the Kings Side, in place of your own lord father and Jon would become a man of the Night’s Watch.

In what world did those two things have a chance at crossing over?

Turning your head, you rested further into his neck and his warmth was unyieldingly comforting. “You know right? Even if I don’t say it?”

Jon had enough, moving to pull your face up to look at him by your chin. “I know. And you do too.”

Your heart skipping a beat you smiled partially, “You know it’d be a whole lot easier not to kiss you if you weren’t so handsome.”

Smirking, Jon pulled you closer. Your back more pressed against his chest as he wrapped the edges of his cloak around your front, hiding the blissfully unaware Ghost from the cold air. “Oh I’m handsome, am I?”

Rolling your eyes, you relaxed in his touch. “I’m not blind, Snow. It’s an unfair thing about you Stark men, you, Robb and your father, all way too handsome for your own good.” You had always done that. Included Jon when referring to the Starks without question. It was something that only his youngest siblings would still do, and that's just because they weren’t yet mature enough to truly understand why he was treated different.

You were though. You knew why, but you and him were always the closest even before the messy feelings of early teenage hood started to take place, and since then you were only more steady in that belief. He was a Snow, but his blood a Stark. And no matter what he called himself, he would always have the blood and integrity of his father. “Should I be worried? Marrying my brother, and running off to Kings Landing with my apparently handsome father?”

Pinching your sides, you tried elbowing him but Jon was far stronger and held you still with a laugh, your voice high and defensive. “I didn’t mean- sorry next time I’ll call your family ugly, alright?” With a pause, it slipped out before you could stop it. “Jealousy another Stark trait I should be worried about?”

You could feel the smirk still plastered across Jons face in his voice at your ear, “When the girl looks like you, any man with half a brain would be jealous of letting you go.”

It was far later then you should’ve been awake, but peeling yourselves apart for the last time was too difficult. It was quiet for a while, nothing but the quiet hums of the woods to pass the silence. His voice rasped in your ear, a small shiver down your spine at its closeness. “Where’d we meet?” He chuckled at your blatant confused face. “If we had a chance, in another life where’d we meet?”

“Are we not still us?”

You enjoyed hearing him so light and casual, it felt like I’d been months long amount of days since you’d seen such casualness. “No, well I mean I’m still me and you’re still you. But we’re not highborns, no titles or duties. Just two people somewhere in the kingdom, where’d we meet?”

Eyes squinting in thought, you considered something that was the opposite of the horrible paranoia of Kings Landing, and far from the darkness of Dragonstone. “I hear Highgarden is beautiful in the summer.”

Jon nodded against your head, “Alright. So you’re a bar maid in Highgarden, and I-”

Laughing loudly you tried pulling away, “Excuse me, why am I a barmaid? Isn’t this a fantasy?”

With such a tone of seriousness you felt light at how easily it came to him, as if it was something he’s thought of before. “Yes, and if you’re a bar maid it means I have an excuse to pull this pretty little bar maid in Highgarden down onto my lap as she passes by.”

“That’s aggressive of you.”

“Maybe this particular bar maid makes me aggressive.”

Back and forth you went, what is job was, how you’d fall in love, if you stayed in Highgarden or travelled the realm elsewhere. How many kids you’d have to which you certainly had protests as to how easily Jon kept raising the number each time he mentioned it. By the time you had planned out a new life, it was late enough that you needed to go back.

You needed some sleep, and Jon wasn’t the only brother who you wanted to talk to before this was all over.

Ghost lept out of your lap and shook his fur out on the ground as you both watched him with a fond smile. Looking back at him, you held onto his wrists and he your waist. This time, neither moved in or even tempted the idea of a kiss.

Raising a hand to cup the side of your cheek, he ran a thumb over the soft skin. “Don’t look for me in the ceremony.” Before you had a chance to spiral, he leaned down to meet your eyes more level. “I’ll be there, but don’t look for me. You’re going to be Robb’s now, and I want you to be okay with accepting that.”

Nodding, he made you promise out loud. “I promise.”

He nodded once. “You’ll be each others tomorrow, and I’ll be at the wall. I want you two to be there for each other, no matter what. Besides, it’ll be easy.” You tilted your head. “Robb’s easy to fall in love with, and I think it’s impossible not to fall at least a little in love with you.”

The hug you shared wasn’t the last before you departed, but it was the last one just for you.

He sent you off first, not wanting you to linger with him on your mind. Jon needed you to be okay with being Robb’s, and he himself, needed to just get through these next few days. He had an entire life at the wall to grieve about you.

The handmaiden was quite mad at how you ignored her. Something about the Seven, not seeing the bride but you went towards Robbs anyways. You were to be married at the Weirwood under the eyes of the old gods, it didn’t matter what the Seven wanted anymore.

Not quite dressed up, Theon looked you up and down as he opened the door. “Didn’t think you were that much of a bore.” You pushed him out the way with a roll of your eyes, he laughed as he closed the door behind him. You were glad that the northerners weren’t so dramatic.

With his mother tucked away with Bran, he escaped what would’ve been her insistence of shaving and another trim. His facial hair growing thick and his curls much more Tully Red in the daylight. “I want to ask you a favour.”

Nodding once, he said anything. Taking a step to you as you sighed out shakily, hands ringing together, he said your name as he came into your space. Looking up at him, you sighed out again. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Taken back, his eyes narrowed in curiosity. “That’s not a favour.”

Somewhat flustered, you pulled away. Sitting down on his bed, unable suddenly to send away the thoughts of the very next time you’ll be in this room. “I- I don’t want you thinking I don’t want this, or you, but we didn’t plan this, or talk about it before it happened, and now we’re here and,”

Robb knelt down to your level, not yet touching you in your panic, but speaking slow and in a low, comforting tone until the edge fell from your lips. His steady energy slightly bringing you down a little bit as you tried again. “My parents are miserable together.” Your hands started to wring together in front of you, “They barley tolerate each other, I’ve never seen any love between them. And same with my Uncle. He and the Queen basically hate each other I’m shocked they could stand each other long enough to have three kids together.”

His brows narrowed as you put it all together. “Everyone I know whose married for duty, married because they had to...I think your parents are the only ones I know who ended up happy, who actually love each other.”

Robb leaned in slightly, “Are you worried you’ll never love-”

Shaking your head you felt the anxiety in your chest boil up like never before. “Robb, look at me. I’m Stannis Baratheons child, daughter of the supposed most miserable man in Westeros in the most loveless marriage, are you sure you’re okay with marrying me?”

There it was. The first true hint of insecurity that you’ve allowed yourself to be honest with since you had been told of this arrangement. Two out of three Baratheon Lords were in miserable marriages, and when you looked at Robb, you hated the idea that you were forcing him into just another of that cycle.

The girl in you wanted to cry at losing one love, and the woman in you hated yourself for possibly dragging another into something he’d come to hate. You’ve known Robb for as long as you’ve known Jon, and you watched him grow into the man he is now. Both of you could do great things together according to Lord Stark, but what if you were too much like your father to ever inspire love?

Robb stood up, sitting down next to you as he turned his body close. Your name falling easily from his lips. “You’re not your father. No- look at me. You are not him, you’re not any of them. I’ve known you since you were eight. You’re stubborn, and strong willed and always willing to do what duty asks but that isn’t all of you. I’ve also seen you laugh, get into trouble with me more times then I can count, you care about my little sisters and my brothers like their yours too. My father already sees you like your his own, and despite everything, I know my mother does too.”

Running a hand over your hair, he watched tension in your shoulders deflate ever so slightly. “I’m not worried about marrying you, because I know what I’m getting myself into. And no one can tell me to be happy about it, but I am anyways.”

Gently you raised your hand, enough to slightly lay over the arm Robb had flat on the bed, your thumb finding this pulse, unlike little Brans, his was steady and strong. “You shouldn’t be. You get told your marrying me, and then the day after I get dragged back to Kings Landing with half your family for who knows how long.”

Your heart raced, as Robb twisted his arm, holding your wrist the same way you were his. An easy, charming, boyish smile on his lips. “And we’ll have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

Deep in your mind, you wished Robb would make this harder. You wished he wasn’t so easy to be charmed by, but you knew him too well to trick yourself into thinking he wasn’t being genuine or honest. “So about that favour...”

Narrowing his eyes, there was a flush in your cheeks that you hated was making him smirk. “What about it?”

You sheepishly tried pulling away, but he yanked you closed by is hold on your wrist. Looking down anywhere but his face you felt like a little girl again, only that time you didn’t have to be the one to ask for it, Jon kissed you before you knew what was happening.

Robb though? Oh Robb knew exactly what you were trying to ask, but was almost sadistically enjoying the process of making you say it out loud to him. You flushed more at what other implications this potential side of him would bring. “I, okay I’m not some innocent flower.”

He raised his eyebrows and you smiled indigently, “I mean, I’m still- I haven’t- shut up.” Robb was flat out laughing at that point but let you fail at getting this out with composure. “I know you’ve been with women before, physically..”

“Does that bother you?”

Shaking your head no, it was no lie. You may have to get used to the idea of being married to him, but again, you weren’t blind. You had eyes, you knew exactly what women saw in Robb Stark. “What I’m trying to say, I’ve kissed someone before but not you.”

Much more serious, Robb clearly did know what you were asking, but watched with his gorgeous comforting blue eyes intensely as you whispered. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in front of all of them.” His family, the royals, all those you didn’t know, the old gods, and even Jon. A first kiss in front of him felt too personal, to intimate.

Moving close, you felt his breathe on your skin. “Do you want me to kiss you? Here?”

The room slipped away though, Robb’s voice was so warm and so was he. The hand on your wrist moved to rest at your waist while the other hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you firmly. His lips would brush against yours if either spoke, but he waited for a single nod before kissing you.

His kiss was different. Soft, but coaxing. Like he knew what was holding you back, and just let you fall into it on your own. It was simple and gentle at first, but as soon as you let out a tiny sigh, something in Robb slipped for a moment. Kissing you again, harder this time. His hands tighter and his kiss a little deeper.

Leaning into his front, your hand found the back of his neck and into his curls, and your other against his chest as if they always knew what to do. It wasn’t until you let out what might just have been a small moan, Robb close to pulling you into his lap did he pull away. Pressing a kiss to your forehead and running his hand once more over your hair.

“Can you live with that? For the rest of your life?”

Robb smiled softly at the very new venerability in you. Pressing one more kiss to your cheek, he knew you didn’t mean only having a kiss. But was he happy with such a kiss was your question. “Wait until tonight, I’ll tell what about you I’ve been fantasizing about living with.”

The grin on Robbs face as he pulled away wasn’t the charming boyish one earlier. No, this one was far more that of who he was really, a wolf. A wolf who looked you up and down and made you realize that Robb Stark just might not be as dashing and honourable as he’s led you to believe.

A thought that should’ve made you nervous, but as you walked back to your room, ready to let the girls doll you up and argue about not touching your hair, you started to think that maybe that wolfish grin, actually excited you.

Just when you thought you were going to die of a heart attack, your to be lord father gave you a reason to have a whole new panic. The ceremony was more fancy then any of you involved wanted, not the Starks nor you, but your own father insisted on marrying you off with the royals in toe.

He wasn’t here. Your mother neither. Both of them, Lady Catelyn and Selyse were either sickly or caring for the sick and weren’t here, but Ned Stark was. He was here, and your own father wasn’t. Stannis was not a consistently comforting father, but part of you felt hurt that he wasn’t here to see his oldest daughter, his own heir, marry for the first time.

Instead, the man who had seen you raised half your life here, the one who would be your father by marriage once this was done was the one who approached you. Looking out into the distant woods as you clearly struggled to hold your nerves back. “I didn’t think this was the thing that’d worry you so much.”

Spinning around, Lord Stark reached out to steady you with a chuckle. “I’m sorry, I just...this is a lot..was it this nerve wracking when you married Catelyn?”

Not pushing you towards the woods, he stood beside you an arm around your shoulder as he rubbed your upper arm gently. “Terrifying. I’d rather face a thousand armed men then get married in front of all those people. I certainly wouldn’t have wanted someone as delightful as the Queen at mine either.” You huffed a single laugh out and swallowed the rest. “And I know I certainly wouldn’t want the person I love watch me marry someone else.”

Blood in your veins froze, your heart stopped and nothing but nausea flowed up your lungs. “I-”

He wasn’t even angry, or disappointed. He chuckled with a fondness. “I’ve seen you spend half your life here, sweet girl. Watched you grow up alongside my own sons, and I’ve watched Jon be in love with you since the first day you ever arrived.” If you cried, you’d mess up the annoying amount of makeup they insisted on, but you felt a sob in your chest. “You made him happy, and he made you happy. For a time, a long time I thought that was enough. But I also know for a fact that Jon never saw marrying you as an option. He always was painfully aware of who you were.”

You felt the stinging, and you stood still in his hold. Forcing deep breaths to push away the panic.

“There’s a good number of things I regret about how I raised him. It doesn’t feel good knowing that he’s always felt inferior to Robb and now the woman he loves is marrying him too. If I could do it again, would I even be better. Force Roberts hand harder, be more honest with Cat, let him just be a Stark and there’d be nothing in his way for you. But I didn’t do that, nor do I know if I ever should’ve.”

Looking down, your arms crossed over your chest. “I don’t want you to assume I’m just thinking of Jon while I’m with Robb, it’s not that. I’ve known Robb for just as long, and we’ve always been just as close, save for, you know.” His hand was soothing like a true fathers comfort running up and down what he could reach of your arm.

“Here’s whats going to happen. I’m going to walk you out there to my son, you’ll kneel together before the Weirwood and pray and when you rise you’ll be a Stark. Part of you will always be a Baratheon, but you’ll also be our family now. And no matter what, wolves always protect those in their pack. I’m not going to assume the worst of you, because I know you better then that. You and Robb will be good for each other, and just because losing Jon hurts doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re not willing to love Robb.”

Looking up at him you frustratingly wipe at the tears, and he pulled you into a hug. One that you hadn’t felt in a very long time. It had been too long since you felt the hug, the love of a real father. Muttering into your hair, you could feel the same smirk that you could always sense on both brothers. “Besides, I can tell you for certain, having one night with your spouse before being dragged halfway across the country will do wonders for your heart.”

You laughed a lot at that one. Pulling away he looked you over, gently wiping away the rest of the tears on your cheeks. “Come on, sweet girl. You have a wolf waiting for you.”

If you were being honest, it was a blur. There were so many people, and most of them you’d never want present at your wedding in any lifetime. The golden hair of the Lannisters mocked you, the bored and judgmental sneer of your cousin annoyed you, and the silent watching of an Uncle who you barley knew anymore, but you were thankful that this wasn’t in a sept.

The crowd silent, no words spoken by anyone except you and Robb. He looked tall and fierce, curls shining more red in the peeking sun through the leaves, eyes bright and blue like the sea as he looked at nothing and no one but you. The fur around his shoulders making him look large like the wolf he was said to be, and soon it too would be yours.

Whatever small words you exchanged, you heard none of it but the blood in your veins. Thankful when Robb took your hand and knelt down with you, facing away from the crowd. The Seven was what you were raised to pray too, but you were a wolf now. And the wolves answered to the Old Gods.

A fate you were perhaps always meant to have, feeling much more heard in your silence of the Weirwood then you ever did in a sept. Eyes open, looking up the carved face at the same time, the crowd was silent, Robb grabbing both your hands to stand as he kept your eyes.

Draping the very fur he wore over your shoulders, he gently pulled you in with two fingers under your chin. This kiss was far softer and fairer then the one you shared in private, but this was also all your anxiety could handle. And Robb knew it.

Were it a more jovial occasion, it was tradition for a northern groom to carry the bride to the feast but Lord Stark had the sense to give you two a moment alone and King Robert was more then happy to direct the crowd to where the wine and food sat.

Your heart racing, Robb gently held your waist with his forehead pressed to yours. Eyes both shut as your hands rested on his chest. You left tomorrow, so all you had was now and tonight.

It’s what he demanded of you, and what he wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that it hurt Jon Snow a great deal to watch you marry his brother, and not once did he ever see the transfixing beauty in your eyes.

You didn’t look at him once, and Jon couldn’t get to the wall fast enough.

Truth be told, the first big laugh you had was at the sheer idea of your father here. Meals with him, there was no laughter or rambunctious behaviour. Just silence, diplomacy, and the mind numbing dings and clogs of Patchface. No joy in a meal under Stannis’s watch, except for the fool himself. Patchface there who was only lucky enough to be in a job, because gods help her, for whatever reason the fool made Shireen laugh.

You couldn’t imagine your father here. The drinking, the laughter, the never ending line of food, talk, and fun. Truth be told, you and Robb spent little time there. You glanced nervously at him more then once, and in your bubble of privacy he would rest a hand on your thigh firmly and a whisper in your ear to at least eat something.

Arya tried many times to come and talk to you, but Sansa yelled at her each time. Telling her to leave the two of you alone, the three of you girls would be in Kings Landing together anyways.

King Robert, on now one too many drinks made an innocuous comment about beds, or sex, or something vaguely incoherent and you and Robb looked to the other. You wide eyed and nervous, but there was something in his that settled it. Leaning to your ear, his voice felt like a rumble. “Normally I’m for tradition, but I’ll be damned if I let this lot see any of you like that.”

One of the men in the crowd had seen you like that, but with the way Robb looked at you, for once, Jon hadn’t crossed your mind. Too much nerves, too much wine, and a fat load of worry about being in a mans bed proper for the first time.

By the time the crowd noticed, Ned just chuckled at Roberts comments about the bride and groom slipping away before a gods honest tradition. “I told Cat I wasn’t going to let their be a bedding ceremony because I didn’t want to hurt someone on our wedding night.” Shrugging one shoulder, he grinned almost proud. “Glad to know my son’s the same.”

The worries of what was to come, ended up being broken slightly by the fact that as soon as Robb opened his door, Grey wind was sat in the middle of the bed. Large body splayed out like it was already bed time. Rising his head up at the sound of the door, you ended up bursting into laughter at Robb having to tell him twice to go.

Shutting it behind the growing direwolf, Robb shook his head something snarky on his tongue that died as he looked to you. Draped in his furs, furs that made you look far smaller and the gentle almost innocent look as you stepped around his room. You’d been in here countless times, slept in here countless times, but never like this.

Trying desperately to hold back your nerves, you looked out the open window focusing on steadying your heart. But the warmth of Robb enveloped your back as he reached over you, closing the windows and sealing you both alone. The crackling of a fire almost enough to hide the shaky breathe as Robb gently ran his hands down your arms.

Resting both on your waist, Robb wrapped one around your stomach, pulling you into his chest. He didn’t let you ruminate on the worry, dipping his head to level his mouth with your ear. “If you don’t want this, I need you to tell me.” Freezing in his arms, he spoke almost quieter but it raged so close to your ear. “We don’t have to do anything, but you need to be honest with me about it.”

You felt light on your feet. You’ve never heard this tone from Robb before, never so intimate in your ear and the deep rumblings of his voice felt as if something strong inside was being held back. The act itself scared you, it always had. But another part of you wondered if you should be fearful of the young wolf behind you, or if that fear excited you.

The arm around your stomach rose up, tilting your head to turn slightly to the side, enough that part of him was within your sight as he murmured your name. “I know you’ve never done this before, is it just that, that scares you or is it me?”

Shaking your head fervently, you startled him. “No, no it’s not you. It’s just- I should know what to expect by now but,” Taking a deep breathe you shut your eyes. “The girls in Kings Landing all talk about men and their first time like it’s painful, violent.”

Robb chuckled deeply, vibrating through his chest into your back and down between your legs. It was a dark laugh, and you felt overwhelmed at how little you really considered what he might be like. “It’s only painful if the man is a worthless, brute who thinks getting off is better then getting their lady off.”

Was your chest heaving with you hard you felt yourself breathing, your eyebrows raised and lips slightly parted you felt more waves between your legs and having it all be because of Robb was more then enough to leave you speechless. Reading your body like a book, Robb leaned down more, brushing his lips against your neck. Grinning at the sigh you unknowingly let out.

Turning slightly more you could see him a bit better. “Will it hurt?”

Smiling like a predator, he pulled you closer to him. “Only if you want it to.” Laughing at your breathless expression, asking why some women would want it to hurt. He moved a hand to your hip and pressed his lips closer to your jaw. “Don’t worry. If you want it, we’ll get there. Tonight’s not about that though.”

Suddenly pulling away he yanked his cloak enough that it slipped from your shoulders and pooled onto the ground. Turning you in his arms, Robb gripped the sides of your dress tightly in his fists before pulling it up and off you. The fact that you let him do that, not telling him how little you had on underneath might have been a dangerous idea.

Usually such a dress was worn with layers underneath, and yet, all that remained on you was that which covered your most lower regions. Your softness, plush skin, and tits all on display. Holding your hips, Robb closed his eyes breathing deep for a moment. “For a girl whose never done this before, this is awfully naughty of you.”

Indeed was the charming boy no longer here, but a man, a wolf looking at his mate like prey.

Swallowing the pounding in your heart, you reached up to Robb, slowly pulling layers up and off of him for yourself. His hands were much more confident then yours were currently, but he stood still watching and letting you undress him at your own pace.

Staring was impolite, and yet Robb didn’t mind as you looked at his chest now totally free. Just as your fingers reached for his pants he snatched your hands. Raising them in the air as you gasped in surprise.

“This is about you. Lay down for me.”

Watching you with dark eyes, you couldn’t ignore how intensely he looked you up and down as you lay back on the top of his bed. Your palms bracing you up before being tossed back down as Robb suddenly climbed up the bed and over top of you. A hand on each side of your head as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Do you trust me?”

Without even considering it, you answered the raw truth. “Always.”

One hand reached up, grabbing your jaw roughly as he pulled your lips back to his. This time he kissed you nothing like before. His kiss was rough, demanding and deep. Guiding your every move and commanding that you obey. He tugged your hip with his other hand up to press into his own and as you gasped, he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

Lightheaded, you surrendered to his touch. As if all will of your own bled out onto the bed leaving nothing but Robb to command you as he pleases, and yet the idea didn’t scare you the way it was described by others. Your hands reached up and grasped his waist, a small sound leaving your mouth into his.

Switching between tasting you with his tongue and biting at your lips it, Robb let go of your jaw and ran it behind your head and grasped your hair tightly. Pressing his body down firmly, his hips naturally rutted into yours. He smirked as you gasped.

The rougher he kissed you, the more your hands moved on their own. Reaching behind his neck and wrapping around it to sink into his hair he ground his hips into you harder. A gentle moan leaving you, Robb left your lips, running the same ferocity down your neck. His lips and teeth no doubt leaving marks that a proper lady should be ashamed of.

He didn’t quite stop, kissing down your neck more until he reached your breasts. Grinning at how hard you were breathing, he stopped that right in it’s tracks as his hands cupped your chest. A needy cry left your lips, turning to a longer moan as Robb ran this thumbs over your nipples. Just as one hand grasped one, did he lower his mouth to bite at the other.

Pleasure shooting through you, your back arched into his body and limbs felt like they seized from the pleasure. His teeth switching between a gentle nibble and a harsher bite just to pull a gasp from you, he played you like an instrument. Getting every sound from your pretty lips that made his cock that much harder.

Pulling away, he hovered over you looking down at the almost in awe expression. You weren’t used to such a side to this man, and he seemed to reveal in your innocence over it. Leaning back more, you followed the sight of his dark eyes, parted lips and down his chest to where he hands slowly pulled at his pants.

Swallowing hard, he tilted your head up his a hand firmly at your jaw. “Keep your eyes on me.” Not letting you look down as he stripped himself bare. “Good girl, keep them on me and only me.” Slowly moving down the bed he pulled your hips to, grabbing your underwear and pulling them down.

The coolness of outside did nothing to take away how warm and wet you were between your legs, and Robb forced you to stay on his face. Making you look at his eyes, greedily pushing your knees apart and expression turning dark as he stared at you. A slightly whimper leaving you, he leaned back over you, one hand running over your thigh, first on the outside, then inside, and slowly upwards.

Just as he reached you, Robb bit at your bottom lip. Using the chance to slip his tongue inside you just as he ran his hand over you. Cupping you entirely and already he smirked into the kiss at how soaked you were. Lips brushing yours as he pulled back enough to speak, his fingers gently running back and forth across your soaked slit. “Good girls don’t get this wet, do they?”

Shaking your head no, all you could do was hear his voice. Eye slipping closed as your legs shook and a coil within you twisted at such an easy touch. Robb continued. “No, good girls are sweet and innocent. This doesn’t feel very innocent to me.” Two fingers now soaked danced up and ran across your clit.

Jumping at the shock of pleasure, you grasped him by the shoulders with a whine. “It’s all for you-”

Stammering the words out as Robb now rubbed tight circles against your clit. Your muscles tensing and his own hips refusing to let you close them you had to just take it. His other fingers still soaking up whatever you drenched him with. “I know it is. You ready for me to open you up? Make you cum before you take me?”

You’d say yes to pretty much anything Robb asked of you right now. Nodding, you leaned up to kiss him, making him smile into your lips as he slipped two soaked fingers deep inside to his knuckles. You gasped so loudly, were the windows not closed no doubt the outside world would’ve heard you. Sinking them deep in one go, you writhed in his touch.

Robb slowly slid them out and back, the wetness between you making the sound obscene, but it was the only music Robb could stand to hear. He never picked up the pace, but he did, right as you tensed in his touch? Stopped rubbing at your clit, and slit a third finger down to sink inside you with the others.

You cried his name and he kissed down your neck as he slowly pumped them inside of you. Clenching around his fingers he bit your skin harder trying to force his cock to shut up. Screaming at him like a howling wolf to just take you already.

Pulling back from your lips he looked you in the eye, feeling you clench around him as your sounds grew higher. Something burned hot inside of you as the other twisted and turned so tightly. One free hand, Robb ran over your lips, and something sweet inside you, pressed a gentle kiss to his fingers as he did so.

In return? He ran his thumb roughly over your clit as pumped his fingers slow and deep into you as you came around them. You moaned his name, but muffled it as Robb gently sunk two fingers into your mouth at the same time. One hand grasped his wrist, and yet even as you came something inside you obeyed like you were a submitting prey.

Robb almost snarled at how well you sucked on his fingers, and how he wished you two had more time then tonight. He couldn’t stop the thought of how beautiful you would look on your knees before him, obediently sucking on his cock with his hand guiding you up and down his length tight in your hair.

Pulling out of you Robb pulled your body up to press against his bare one and kissed you full of tongue and a greedy desperation. A desperation you yearned for back. It was a strained rasp of your own in his ear that had him shudder. “Please, Robb. Please fuck me.”

It didn’t even occur to you to try and be sweet or innocent about it. You could feel his cock pressing against you between your still shaking legs and you felt lightheaded at how thick it felt against you. Kissing your ear, he murmured much more gentle, “Are you sure?” As you nodded he bit your earlobe and hissed into it. “Out loud.”

Nodding again, your hands wrapped around his neck as you kissed him. “I’m sure, I want you.”

Kneeling up on the bed, Robb ran his hand gently down the side of your body. His dark eyes soft for just a little while longer, as you felt something in your chest at him. Pulling your hips more up into his lap you think you understood why he kept his eyes on you.

His chest led down to coarse, rough hair surrounding a long, thick cock that you wondered if it would even fully fit in your hand. Your chest heaved as you stared, and he slipped into a deeper tone. “It’s not polite to stare.”

Slipping a hand behind your head, Robb kept you looking down, watching as he ran the tip of his cock over your entrance, up brushing against your clit and back down. Barley sliding in each time until you begged his name once more. This time Robb watched your eyes, as he kept your head looking down to watch him slide his cock inside you.

He was thick, and the stretch itself stung in a way that made you gasp but not a pain that you had feared from it. No, the deeper he sunk the more you soaked his cock. Only halfway in, Robb tugged your hair to look up at him before he in a much more punishing thrust, bottomed out.

His face snarled at how tight, how warm and soaking wet you cunt was and he pulled you right back into an equally as rough kiss. He didn’t go fast, but part of him reasoned to go more gentle, and yet?

Your cries, your begs of his name as each slow, rough fuck had your arching your back into his body all the more. Each pound of his cock inside of you slapped loudly in a way that had him grip your hips so tight, you could already feel the bruises.

Sweat built up on both your bodies and you ran your hand through his own increasingly damp curls, scratching his scalp with your nails that had him fuck into you harder each time. For all his talk, little thoughts came to his mind as Robb fucked you.

Like something of an animal took over and all he could think of was how much he wanted to fuck you more, harder, faster, fill you until his cum spilled out of you and then fill you more. You cried out, nails scratching down his back without even realizing you were doing so, but muffling each sound as you bit into the meat of his shoulder. Robb, fucked you harder and struggled to stay slow.

You clenched tightly, enough that he had to pound into your cunt roughly just to sink as deep as he could inside and pulling away enough he could see tears at the side of your eyes but you rather then begging for mercy, begged for more as you kissed him.

His hands held your knees, pushing as wide as possible as Robb lost composure. Fucking you faster and just as one hand moved to rub at your clit you came around him. Robb leaving your other knee to press his hand against your mouth at how little you could contain your cries.

Fucking into you once, twice, five more times he pushed inside as deep as he could sink and filled you with him. His cum warm and thick, it felt like there was so much more of it then a normal man would have but you let Robb pull you into another kiss, this one rough and sloppy as he filled you with his cum as his tongue did your mouth.

Never leaving, his hands eventually turned soothing, his kiss softer and his voice not commanding but assuring. Telling you how good you did, how perfect you were. Holding you in his arms and him yours, it was just the two of you in that moment and nothing more.

It was only when you started to laugh, did Robb laugh. Yanking you into his chest as he flopped onto his back with you on top of him. Kissing you gently as he ran a hand over your hair. “Aye, a man could get used to this.”

He should’ve let you rest, but he took you once more that night. This time, far less able to hold back how fast and greedy he wanted to be about fucking you. The only downside, was how exhausted the night made you.

Slipping into a deep sleep, that only meant morning would come quicker. And too quick it did.

That morning, you both stayed in bed as long as you could. Robbs back against the wall and you against his chest, far less worried about the lack of clothes either of you still had. “You were born for this, Robb. It’s not in you to fail.”

Kissing the side of your head, things were feeling a bit easier, a bit more normal between you even in such an intimate manner. “Everyone says that right up until they fail.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned. Leaving his grasp to gently face him, your body in his lap. Hands on his chest, your eyes often trailed over him. He didn’t question your gaze, you had to get used to him as much as he was getting used to you. It was still new, no matter how much a decade and a half of friendship had formed the foundation.

No joke was in your face though. “I’m serious, Robb. Even if you don’t believe in yourself?” Shrugging one shoulder you smiled softly, “I’m your wife now, so I’ll just do all the believing for you.”

Squeezing your hip, he rolled his own eyes. “And let you do all the work? We’re a team, remember?”

Saying goodbye to Robb however, was easier then what waited for you outside.

Packing up your hose, you heard the two of them in the distance. “My mother?”

“She was very kind.” You tensed slightly, hoping no one noticed but you very much doubted kind was the genuine word Jon should be using. He didn’t deserve her ire, not now, not ever.

“Next time I see you, you’ll be all in black.”

“It was always my colour.”

Your eyes closed, trying to tune their goodbye out. You had no right to invade their privacy.

Part of you hoped he would ignore you. You wouldn’t have to handle this and you could ignore it, but Jon knew you way better then that. You’d hate yourself if you left it at this. Reaching over you, Jon pulled part of your things up and secured it without even saying a word. Looking up, he was closer then you thought.

Looking at each other, the responsible thing would be to nod, shake hands, say a cordial goodbye. But Jon stood with his bright eyes, a grey so deep they looked black at times and you wanted to cry. You felt pathetic for being hardly able to hold back such a display of emotions, but the love that Jon had looked at you with for so many years was as strong as it always was.

You had no doubt that you looked just the same.

Jon pulled you into a hug, one too tight and too emotional for the company around and yet neither of you cared. Neither of you knew if this would be the last time, and both of you resented the world for forcing that as a possibility. His hand held you to him from the back of your head as you sunk your face partway into his neck and the other into the fur around him. “I miss you.”

“I miss you.”

Already, even in the others arms, the grieving already begun. Pulling back, you held at his shoulders and he shamelessly cupped the side of your cheeks. “Think I could get to the wall before they catch me, if I kiss you now?”

You burst into a laugh, one bordering too close on a cry. But you tilted your head. “Now or never, Snow.”

The kiss was pressed to your cheek, slow and unrushed before hugging you once more. For too many years you and Jon ignored the inevitability of having to separate like this, and it sat deep and uncomfortable in your stomach to do so. Like leaving the other behind would be a mistake in the long run, but you couldn’t understand why your soul screamed at you to not make it. You knelt down, kissing Ghost on the forehead as he licked at your cheek, whispering to him. “Protect him, no matter what you hear me? Next time I see him, you better make sure he’s as healthy as you are now.”

Seeing the other Starks approaching, you two looked at the other one last time so close you could feel the other. You took off with the company as they all headed out to the Kingsroad, giving enough space for Lord Stark to speak to his son alone before they too parted ways.

You couldn’t hear what they talked about, but you knew Jon Snow better then anyone to guess. As his father turned to leave, you and Jon looked from the distance at the other once more. You said nothing and neither did he. His life was up north now, and yours is both by Lord Stark’s side and your future with your husband. A future you wanted, and one Jon didn’t want to get in the way of. But as you both rode off in opposite directions, that sinking feeling in your gut just screamed louder, the further away you both got.

Neither of you having any idea, what horrors would bring you two back to one another.

[samsno1]

Hi, idk how often you do requests but could you do a mid season Sam fic. The reader is with the FBI with the unexplained cases and she meets the brothers. It would be funny if they tried to convince her that they are also with the FBI and she somehow catches them in their lie. They work together in the case and Sam and the reader end up falling for eachother. Thanks you so so much!!!!

Caught

Sam Winchester X F!Reader

this took me so long to write i'm so sorry. i don't reeeeally like the ending but i did the best i could. i hope this is what you expected bby <3

Summary: You were assigned a complex case and you end up meeting two very weird men who were, apparently, also FBI agents but...why are they named after famous rockstars?

Warnings: FLUFF, descriptions of murderer, murder scenes and violence (usual supernatural shenanigans), sam is an 'intimidating woman enjoyer™', use of Y/N, the writer (me) has no idea how fbi works because she isn't an USA resident, NOT PROOF READ, english is not my first language

W.C.: 8,8k

enjoy!

You had climbed the ladder in the world of criminology considerably fast considering your age. Getting into the FBI in your late 20s was probably one of your biggest achievements and, of course, men tended to make disgusting comments about how such a young woman got such a difficult job – including claiming you opened your legs to get this far. You didn’t mind, actually, it added to your ego to be above those guys – as if they even deserved to be in a job that required empathy towards the victims.

Still, even your superior was shocked at the case he found. A couple had been killed inside their room without any signs of forced entry. All doors and windows were locked and nothing inside the house had been stolen; the bodies seemed to be torn apart from the inside out since there were no knife or bullet wounds and he put you on the case. He thought you would have the abilities to deal with something like this – ‘you’re a prodigy’ he had said – and the guts. The crime scene was absolutely vile; there was blood everywhere and their faces had the skin peeled off to the point their cranial bones were visible. You had seen some stuff, but nothing like this.

The first thing that you did when you got to town was talking with the local police so that you’d learn more about the town’s history with murderers – especially the unexplainable ones. They told you something close to an urban legend: the house that the couple was renting was cursed according to the locals. Decades ago, three kids got killed by their parents in rage, who committed suicide afterwards. They never found the kids bodies and the case went cold after a few years, the police giving up on finding their remains. You found that absolutely unacceptable, giving up on children like that should be a crime, but it wasn’t up to you. Ever since the assassination, every person that rented or bought the house died in unexplainable ways and the police had started to practically ignore or do the bare minimum on the case.

“We’ve been having problems with that house for years” Said the sheriff, a man with a grown out beard, deep eyebags and average height. Not what you would expect for a sheriff given his dismissiveness towards you and the mess his office was. “The previous sheriff also received complaints from townsfolk regarding the place but we could never find out anything. There were no clues, no suspects, just…nothing” He finished, his arms waving around tiredly.

“This is probably why they put the FBI on the case” You said to yourself, guaranteeing the man wouldn’t hear you. You took notes on your notebook, your legs crossed as you sat in front of the sheriff, his table between both of you. You could sense his eyes on you and feel his unasked question floating around in the air. “Anything else, Sheriff?” You asked, looking up from your notes.

He seemed to wake up from his thoughts, shaking his head lightly at you. “No it’s just…Why do you need three FBI agents to work on this?” He asked, on edge, a worry line prominent in his aged face as he squinted at you. Three? You furrowed your eyebrows and leaned back on the chair, closing your notebook.

“I’m not aware of the other two working alongside me” You say. You thought about what your boss had told you and didn’t remember him saying anything about partners, especially two. You usually worked alone most of the time, functioning better on your own. Then again, this was a difficult case, maybe they thought it was better than one federal agent working on this.

“They came by earlier today, asking about the same house and the murderers. They were tall, one of them was…very tall and had long hair. The other one was less serious and, honestly, unprofessional. I think they said they were agent Page and Plant” The sheriff filled you in and now this seemed like a joke. You raised an eyebrow. You had a peculiar taste in music considering it was the 2000s and your father barely listened to anything further than the 90s, resulting in you growing up to know most of the rock bands that were at their highest from the 60s to the 90s. That included Led Zeppelin. And it would be too big of a coincidence for both guys to work together with last names such as those.

“I’ll talk to them about the case, thank you very much Sheriff” You say, raising yourself from the chair and extending a hand to politely shake his. You walked out of his office with a question in your mind and thought about looking up Page and Plant on the database to see if anything showed up when you got to your room tonight. For now, you had to take a look at the crime scene while it was still daylight.

–

Your car’s engine died down as you turned the key. You opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle, adjusting your suit over the white button down you wore underneath. You shoved your car key in your pocket and, when you looked up, you saw another car that easily stood out from the others around the street – a black Chevrolet Impala which you couldn’t guess the specific year just by looking. It was a very beautiful car and you secretly praised in your mind whoever owned it – it seemed well taken care of.

You walked to the crime scene, taking your badge in hand to show it to the police officer that took care of the place when you saw two men, also in suits, talking with one of the officers – two tall men, one had longer hair. The officer approached you as you got closer and you simply showed your badge to him before he nodded and lifted up the ‘crime scene’ tape for you to go underneath. You ducked down and mumbled a thank you as you made a beeline towards the two guys.

You wondered what you were going to say and how you were going to question them about their identity without seeming like you’re assuming anything. As you walked closer, they were finishing their conversation and were turning to leave making you almost bump right into them. They stumbled back and you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Who are you?” The shorter one asked you and you took the badge out of your pocket again with a sigh, making sure he reads your name and sees the picture of you that clearly stated you were a federal. He hummed and looked towards his partner, a silent conversation going on between them. You interrupt.

“And you?” You ask and they get their own badges out. You extend a hand to the taller one, silently asking you if you could take a look at it. He gave it to you willingly, which was one less red flag to take into consideration. You looked through everything and it all seemed alright…until you looked at the name on the bottom. Jimmy Page. Is this serious? You look up at them with a judging look and you see the tallest swallow harshly. “Your parents were big Led Zeppelin fans I assume” You say.

“Yeah, yeah they– ha– they were” Jimmy says in a way that’s not believable at all, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. The shorter one closes his eyes and shakes his head discreetly in disappointment – which doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You give Page his badge back and turn to – apparently – Plant.

“I didn’t know that I would have partners in this case, but maybe it’s for the better. What did you find out about the case? Just so we are on the same page” You look between both of them. Plant nudges his partner in the ribs and, before mumbling somewhat of a curse to Plant after practically jumping in place, Page starts to explain to you about their side of the investigation. He seemed professional enough, with a notebook in his hands as he told you everything they could make up from what they knew so far, even sharing with you his assumptions. You were impressed as you started telling him about what you thought – a weird case, too many murders, few clues…Plant stayed quiet most of the time until about halfway through your conversation he said he was going back to his car and you took that as a hint to call it a day.

“Well, I think we are going to work well together, Agent L/N” Page says with a polite smile and you nod, smiling yourself. You took one of your cards where your professional number was written on along with your name and offered it to him. He gently took it from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Just in case you have anything else to share” You said and he nodded, a strand of his hair falling over his face, which he mindlessly put back with a brush of his hand. “It was great meeting you, Agent Page”

“You too” He said and, sensing the end of the encounter, you started to walk back to your car. You still couldn’t shake the thought of those two being too suspicious for your liking and you were determined to look them up and see if Agents Jimmy Page and Robert Plant actually existed. You walked fast, your heels knocking against the concrete and you didn’t notice Page’s eyes on you, lost in the movement of your hair as you walked away. What woke him up from his trance, though, was his partner honking and signaling for him to hurry up. He rolled his eyes and walked to his own car, stealing one last glance at you. You turned your head back right on cue, giving him a polite smile and a small wave. He awkwardly waved goodbye back and started to walk to the honking Impala.

You had assumed the unknown car belonged to them and you had written down the plate in your notebook discreetly – just in case. You were impressed by their ability – well, Page’s ability – to analyze crime scenes but you weren’t stupid. You couldn’t just erase the fact that you had no idea who those two were and you were determined to find out, one way or another.

–

Meanwhile, in the Impala, Sam got inside the car in the passenger’s side, almost hitting his head on the roof – like he did most days. Dean was impatiently waiting for him to get in until he saw something clasped in his brother’s hand, his eyes quietly scanning the white paper. In Sam’s distraction, Dean reached for it before he could react. “Hey!”

“You got her number? Wow Sam, never thought of you like that” Dean teased as he looked through your name written in cursive writing and your phone number right under it. Sam snatched the small card back from his brother and shoved it in his pocket, glaring at Dean.

“Shut up man, this is her professional number, she gave it to me so we could talk” He defended as he put his seatbelt on. He mindlessly brushed a hand through his hair again, getting it out of his face as he heard Dean chuckle to himself as Baby’s engine roared to life. Sam looked back to his brother and waited for more teasing to come – as it always did.

“Yeah, talk.” He said, the double meaning in his words floating around in the air but being ignored by Sam. Dean pressed his foot on the pedal so the car would start to move as he shifted into gear. “Besides, she’s an actual FBI agent, don’t you think she’s going to suspect that we aren’t?”

“Dean, I did go to law school, I can manage my way out of this” Sam said with a mischievous smile. He really thought he could, he knew he was smart and he was a damn good liar – he lied in college for a very long time about who he was and what his family did. Not something to be proud of but it came in handy, especially when both him and his brother were in trouble. He had practically lied his whole life about who he truly was, not entirely giving away specific details – especially those who involved his family. Sometimes he regretted it – like he did with Jess – but it was always safer not to know, for both parties. Or so he thought.

“Don’t think she’s stupid–”

“I don’t think she’s stupid–”

“Let me finish” Dean scolded, raising a hand to silence his brother, his eyes still on the road. It was often funny to pay attention to their brotherly behavior and how anyone could know who was the oldest just by these simple interactions. Dean raised his hand and Sam silenced, listening, like how it was when they were kids. “Don’t think she’s naive, she is in the FBI, working alone on a case. I don’t know much about federals but I’m sure that’s not for everyone”

Sam stayed quiet. He knew Dean was right but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Still, he really didn’t think you were stupid, it was impossible to. The way you talked about the case in detail, relating your point of view and what you could gather in a few hours was more than enough evidence to show him you deserved this job more than anyone. He wasn’t used to seeing women in this field, but everytime he did he was convinced that men were definitely unfairly placed higher. Yet, he still didn’t want to get arrested again so he needed to convince you that he and Dean were legitimately federals.

The conversation drifted away in another direction as Sam stared out the window and replied to the small talk Dean made with him every now and then – when he didn’t crank up the volume once Metallica came into the radio playing Creeping Death while they were talking. With a chorus of ‘Die, die!’ being sung by Dean while he beat his hands on the steering wheel to the drum rhythm, Sam’s mind drifted away and he fell asleep with a head against the window, the tiredness of sleepless nights catching up to him.

–

These fuckers. You thought to yourself as you stared mouth agape to the pictures of who you learned were actually Sam and Dean Winchester – not Jimmy Page and Robert Plant. Two brothers, presumed dead a couple years ago.

Your coffee sat cold over the wooden table of the hotel you were staying the night at. You had already changed into your pajamas and taken a hot shower when you decided to take a look at the case again. Two hours later you remembered the two men you encountered and, when you looked a bit deeper in the police files, the results were horrifying. It actually wasn’t that hard to find out about them, a quick look through the FBI database and you found their exact faces – even if Pag- Sam’s hair was relatively shorter then now. You were beyond pissed, especially at yourself, how could you not have known this? How could you let yourself get played like this? Just because the tall guy was a bit of a nerd and kind of cute? Ugh!

You started pacing around your room, not knowing what to do. Confronting them could kill you, they were murderers after all, according to the database, they had killed civilians and federal agents equally as much. You were strong, both physically and mentally, but there was no way you were escaping two guys that were over six feet tall and weighed about two hundred pounds each. You had to play smart, you had to catch them in a weak moment and then. Bingo. You stopped in your tracks and – like a lightbulb lightened up above your head – you had the perfect plan. You had to wait until the next day for you to execute it but it was going to be worth it. You sent their mugshots to your phone through your e-mail and any other evidence that you could use against them.

You still felt slightly weirded out about them. They didn’t seem dangerous, they didn’t freak out the moment they saw you and they were confidently adding to the investigation with actual useful analysis. You were looking deeper through their files and found out they lost their mother in a fire at a very young age – the youngest wasn’t even one year old yet – and their father had died a couple years ago, in ‘06. They had a pretty sketchy life, living off stolen credit cards and fake identities but something interesting you found out was that Sam Winchester actually went to college, he went to Stanford and your eyes widened at that. You wondered what made him quit, maybe his father dying and his brother needing him, maybe he got kicked out, still, going to college after having a childhood like that was more than impressive.

You kept reading about them until the late hours of the night and you only noticed you fell asleep over the papers you left on the table and your computer when a phone ringing startled you awake. The noise echoed inside your head and, as you lifted your head, the sunlight getting into the room through the curtains hurt your eyes. You only noticed how bad you’d slept when you felt a pain shoot through your neck and down your back as you turned your head to look for the phone – great. You groaned and felt around the table with your hand until you felt the square shape of the device and its humming. You clicked to answer after slightly clearing your throat so you’d seem less sleepy and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello, Agent L/N speaking”

“Hey Y/N, how are things going?” The voice of your boss made you unconsciously straighten your back and swallow harshly. You looked at the time on your computer and your heart fell to your stomach. 11:36AM – shit! 

“Hey Sir, everything is running smoothly. I’m currently collecting evidence and later I’m going to the morgue so I can look through the autopsy”

“That’s great, you always do a great job kid” He said and you could feel him smiling on the other side of the line. You felt bad for kind of lying but you had been worrying about other stuff last night.

“Thank you Sir, I’ll report back to you as soon as possible” You reply.

You talked for a while longer as you disclosed the case and, when he finally hung up, it was already past noon. As you got ready for your day, doing your daily morning routine as quickly as you could, you felt your stomach rumble when you got out of the shower, reminding you that you hadn’t had breakfast. You decided then that it was better to stop at a diner or somewhere so you could eat something to go on with your day – since it was already lunchtime you couldn’t necessarily call this brunch. You finished getting ready, putting on your shoes and grabbing the keys to your car while you looked up the closest place to eat something quick.

You drove to the nearest diner that had a decent rating and stopped at the parking lot. When you looked around, you couldn’t believe your luck – or rather the lack of it. The infamous Impala was parked a couple meters from you in all its glory. You audibly sighed but you couldn’t just find another place to eat as quickly, besides, you know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Maybe eating at the same place as them was actually a good strategy. You grabbed your wallet and locked your car, confidently walking towards the diner entrance.

The bells dinged above your head as you got in, some eyes looking your way with the noise – including Sam’s. Him and his brother were sitting in a booth in the far corner of the diner, Sam turned in the direction of the door and Dean facing away from it, in his brother’s direction. Sam had his laptop open in front of him as he ate a salad, Dean was eating a burger. Thay had probably been talking before you came in because when you came through the door Sam went quiet as he looked over his brother’s shoulder and Dean kept talking, hunched over his food. You couldn’t listen to their conversation but you gave Sam a slight smile and a nod, your stomach turning as you faked sympathy, as if you didn’t just friendly greet a murderer. He nodded back and that's when Dean slightly turned to look behind him and see you, nodding as well.

You started to walk towards their table, the weight of your hidden gun on your hip more than evident. Just keep calm, you were trained for this. You decided to keep to yourself that you knew their true identity, after all, you were one step ahead of them and, deep down, you knew they could be useful. Their intelligence was beyond impressive – faking your death wasn’t something easy to do. You stood above them with a gentle smile.

“Hello agents, mind if I sit with you?” You asked as politely as you could. Sam scooted almost instantly, changing the placement of his laptop to the side of the window. You didn’t miss the eyebrow raise his brother gave him.

“Hey Ms. L/N. No, not at all, make yourself comfortable” He said, smiling at you. He has dimples you mentally stated.

“Yeah, please” Dean agreed, stretching a hand to the seat beside Sam. His voice was slightly muffled thanks to the food in his mouth and you internally cringed as you could see the chewed food when he talked.

“Thanks. No need to call me by my last name, you can just call me Y/N” You simply said as you sat down, looking almost immediately to the computer screen open in newspapers that dated a couple years back. Murders in the same house all with the same time frame from each other. “I see you work even while you were supposed to be on your break, careful not to burn out Agent Page” You said, looking at his side profile. He seemed embarrassed as your sweet voice got to his ears and awkwardly laughed.

“You know…you don’t need to call me Agent Page, that is just an alias, call me Smith, Sam Smith. That’s Dean Wesson” He said. Huh, claiming aliases, smart move Winchester. “And yeah, I’ve been taking a look at the history of the place, apparently–”

“It’s timed killing” You finished. You scooted slightly closer, pointing your finger to the screen where the date of the newspaper was written at. “Every two years on the same date someone was brutally murdered in the house.”

“Yeah and inside the same room too” Dean pointed out. That you hadn’t noticed. A waiter coming to get your order interrupted the conversation you three were having to get your order. You quickly looked through the menu deciding to eat the quickest and most nutritious stuff there could be at a diner. You thanked the boy that took your order and he walked in long strides towards the kitchen. You came back to the talk you were having with the two brothers and Dean continued. “The master suite. And always couples, someone seems to hate true love” He joked.

“Apparently. Have any ideas for suspects yet?” You asked. If you were going to play pretend you might as well acquire some useful information with it. The boys shared a look between them that they thought you wouldn’t catch, but you weren’t FBI for no reason.

“None yet, still looking into it” Sam said, suddenly seeming on edge, shifting his placement on the booth. You were good at reading body language, it was one of the main qualities that got you in the FBI, interrogating criminals was easy exactly because they couldn’t lie. When you learned their behavior and played your way into their head it destroyed them because even if they were silent, even if they didn’t say anything, you knew what they were lying about – flinching when you mention a certain name or changing the leg they were crossing under the table when you named an address. So, Sam couldn’t hide from you earlier, imagine now that you were inches away.

“Really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and turning your torso slightly more in his direction, leaning your elbow on the table. He was trapped. You thought about confronting them here, questioning them about their identity in public but you thought better – they definitely had guns on them and two beats one. Either way, you’d put him in a challenging situation, confronting him without even disagreeing verbally. He felt intimidated and now seemed unsure of his own conclusion – how you loved playing these games.

“I mean there’s barely any clues” He laughed nervously. “I was going to call you to see if you had any idea”

“I don’t either, as you said, no leads” You said. The waiter arrived with your food right then and you politely thanked him, drifting away from the conversation you were having with Sam as you started to eat. This time you weren’t paying attention and Dean questioned Sam with a look. What is she on? And the youngest shrugged. You swallowed your food with a pleasant hum, just now noticing how hungry you truly were. “I was thinking we could go to the morgue, if you haven’t already. Take a look at the bodies, see if we find anything”

You were purposefully playing right into their game, faking cluesness and at the same time taking advantage of their abilities to solve the case. It was more important to you to solve whatever was going on to bring peace back to this town than to arrest the brothers who were supposed to be dead. You’d learned that men tended to believe that you were stupid very easily, that you had no idea what you were doing and you started using that to have your way with them. With big doe eyes and feigned innocence you could get very far.

“That’s where we were going later actually. It’s good if you tag along” Sam tells you.

“I would even if you didn’t want me to” You said, joking, but not really. Your tone was humorous  but your smile was bitter. They didn’t seem to notice though and Sam even chuckled slightly at your sarcasm. You noticed the dimples in his cheeks and how boyish his smile was, full of bright white teeth and sincerity. You almost felt bad for being rude until you remembered they were killers – even if they didn’t look like it. Sam didn’t seem the type to brutally murder someone, Dean seemed too stupid to be able to get away with it for so many years, even faking his own death and walking around normally – you’d bet he was the one with the idea to put the name of famous rockstars as FBI aliases.

By the time the conversation was over, so was your food. You left enough money for the bill and a tip and stood up from the booth. “Okay, well, let’s go, we have a lot to do today boys” You said, adjusting your suit, unnecessarily dusting it off. You eyed Dean’s plate, the mess he made similar to how a child would eat. You would have laughed if you were in a more friendly situation. You looked at Sam and with a smile you said: “Don’t be late pretty boy, I’ll be waiting for you”

Then you turned around, politely nodded goodbye to Dean and started walking away, holding back a laugh. Sam stood still, stunned as he stared at you walked out the door, the bells above you ringing twice – one for when you pulled the door, the other after you let it smoothly close behind you. Dean was staring too, his bright green eyes filled with confusion. Once he turned to look at Sam he saw his younger brother completely zoned out, looking in the direction where you once were. He snapped his fingers in front of Sam’s face, who immediately looked at Dean.

“Pretty boy?” Dean questioned, holding back a smirk as Sam rolled his eyes.

“Dean…”

“She’s got you man. I get it, strong and intimidating women, I understand, I understand”

“That’s not it, she seems…off” Sam points out, looking at the door once more to make sure you wouldn’t come back and leaning closer to unnecessarily speak in a lower voice to Dean. “I think she might be an it, the monster we are looking for”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

“The way she’s acting is, I don’t know, weird”

“Look Sam I know you’re not used to having women hit on you but that doesn’t mean they are monsters” Dean teased, Sam gritted his teeth.

“Dean, I’m serious!”

“Okay, alright, we are going to investigate then” Dean said, raising his hands in fake surrender to his brother’s scolding. “But it doesn’t make sense to me. Didn’t we consider it to be a vengeful spirit?”

“Maybe, or maybe we are dealing with something completely different”

“Alright smart-ass, but if you’re wrong you owe me a six pack”

Sam scoffed but he wasn’t one to turn down any bet. He had thought your behavior was weird the moment you stepped foot in the diner. The questions you asked, the way you would constantly question his abilities, there was something going on and he could sense it. Besides, he liked betting with Dean, especially winning, so there was no way he wasn’t accepting his brother’s challenge.

“Deal” Sam said, hitting his palms against the table and standing up, ready to leave and go to the morgue. Dean followed his movements and stood up with a cheeky smile, taking out his wallet to pay for the food.

–

At the morgue, you waited about 5 minutes until they arrived. When they walked up to the entrance you were waiting at, Sam and Dean saw you in a much more serious state as you read through your notes and made annotations here and there. The noise of their footsteps made you look up and put your little notebook back in your pocket and place your pen behind your ear. You crossed your arms in front of your body and waited for them to get closer. Your heels were starting to hurt the bottom of your feet from standing too long in the same place and you were overwhelmed with different emotions – towards the men and yourself.

You weren’t necessarily scared of Sam and Dean, you were trained not to be, but it was never in your plans to be alone in a city with federal criminals, it would be downright ignorant not to be at least nervous with the situation. You were keeping yourself friendly without giving away any hint that you might know who they were, debating internally which would be the worst case: if you confronted them or stuck beside them for longer – what’s that say again? Friends close, enemies closer.

“Hey, Y/N” Sam called you and you turned your lips upwards in some-kind of a smile. He mirrored your expression and you caught his dimples again, your eyes wandering around his face. You broke the stare when Dean cleared his throat and, when you looked at him, he had his eyebrows furrowed, giving Sam a side-eye – more like a diagonal one, since, well, Sam was a big guy. In your own trance you hadn’t noticed how Sam was also looking at you like you were a beautiful piece of art – damn it, focus.

You also cleared your throat and that seemed to wake Sam up. “Hello Sam, Dean” You said, nodding to each “Shall we go inside? The longer we take the further the killer goes, come on” You turned your back to the and started walking inside the morgue. Dean waited until you walked further and held Sam by the elbow, making the youngest look at him in confusion.

“Stop that” Dean whisper-yelled.

“Stop what” Sam whispered back.

“Whatever your eyes are doing, I’m gonna puke if you keep that up”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You stop it, you’re reading too much into it”

“Hey, you are the one that said she might be dangerous and, honestly, you are kind of a monsterfu-”

“Dean!” Sam pushed his shoulder to shut him up.

“C’mon you were hypnotized, maybe that’s what she does, or you are just in love” Dean shrugged his shoulders, holding back a grin. He loved making Sam mad.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Let’s go now or do you have any other stupid remarks?” Sam didn’t wait for an answer as he followed the direction you went in. Dean mocked his brother, mimicking Sam’s words to himself in a high pitched tone and went along.

You were already putting your gloves on when they came into the room, the dead bodies laying before you - or at least what was left of them. The lower part of the couple’s bodies was covered beneath the pale blue blankets and both torsos were exposed. It was an awful sight and, if you were about ten years younger, you would’ve puked. Everything was dilacerated, they were practically disfigured, their faces barely recognizable. Huge gashes adorned their bodies that even cleaned up still looked absolutely vile. Behind you, Dean hissed.

“Wow” He exclaimed.

“Yeah, very brutal, whoever did this wanted them to feel the pain” You said, snapping the latex gloves against your wrist and grabbing the file about the autopsy in your hands. You skimmed through the words and placed it back on the table where it previously was, turning back to the bodies to see Sam already looking through them, Dean putting on the blue gloves the mortuary offered. You approached Sam’s side and crossed your arms as you watched him work, his hands roaming through the deep rips on the skin, he seemed to come to the same conclusion you did. “It’s not a clean cut, see” You pointed out and he nodded, turning to you.

���Yeah, the skin is–”

“Ripped, not cut” You paused “How can someone do this and just…get on with their lives?” You thought out loud. You discreetly looked up to Sam’s face to see if he had any reaction to your words, to see if his face faltered when you mentioned how psychotic it would be to keep going after killing someone, to see something, anything…

His face was blank.

“You’d be shocked at what…people can do” Sam replied. He seemed to hesitate before saying ‘people’, a hard swallow, a thought behind his eyes and you marked that in your mind for later.

“Sam, I work in the FBI too you know, I’ve seen shit” Maybe you were harsh, maybe you were just defensive or maybe the years of being brought down by men in your field made you snap at his words when they weren’t that deep. He seemed to catch on to your aggressiveness and stumbled over his words to try and reword his phrase.

“No– I-I know it’s just– I mean–” He couldn’t get the words out. You softened at that, noticing your defensiveness was, in fact, exaggerated. You chuckled at him and waved your hand dismissively.

“I get what you meant” You said and he seemed to calm down, giving you a slight smile. Dimples. Again. You turned back to the bodies in front of you and reached for your pocket to get your notes. You started patting with your other hand for your pen through the other pockets and when you didn’t feel the distinctively cylindrical shape of the object you started to freak out. Where’d I leave it…

Sam noticed your squirming and when he saw the notebook in your hand he knew exactly what you were looking for. He held back a chuckle as he watched you try your hardest to remember where the pen was, the concentration in your eyes almost touchable.

“Hey” Sam called and you turned your head to him. He reached his hand up, close to your cheek and you could sense the heat radiating from his body. You froze in place as you thought that you were caught, that Sam’s intelligence overpowered yours and he figured out that you knew who he was. Well, you were wrong. Sam caught the pen you had put behind your ear between his fingers and slid it off of it, watching as your hair fell back into place. You wanted to bury yourself whole inside the ground as you felt heat spread through your face. “Here” He said, with a cheeky smile.

You took the pen out of his hand, your fingers brushing lightly against each other “Thanks” You mumbled. You started writing away what you figured from the autopsy but you couldn’t get your mind off of how close Sam had gotten. The warmth that he emitted was captivating, comforting even. How could you even think that? You were a professional, what the hell! You shouldn’t be feeling this way, you had a job to do, lives to save. Sam was a killer, you put killers in jail. That’s it.

“Okay so…” Dean spoke up, breaking your embarrassment “...We can discard any murder with weapons like guns or knives, those can’t do…this” He made a face and pointed towards the wounds. You nodded in agreement as you wrote it down. When you looked up at them again they were sharing a look, having a full conversation without even speaking. You weren’t a professional in facial expressions but you could read the room, you were being kept in the dark about something. You decided against confronting them, unneeded drama in the current settings because, indeed, the longer you took to solve this case, the closer the killer was to killing other people.

“So, I have no idea if you already did but I didn’t look further in the room where the murder happened. I think I’m going to go back to the house and see if the local cops missed anything” You said, not waiting for an answer as you pocketed your notebook again and started taking off your gloves. You didn’t request their company as you were, first, still trying to figure out why they were so adamant about solving this case, second, you had to figure this murder out, and third, you needed to find a perfect moment to confront both of them. “See you around agents”

“See ya” Dean waved at you as you walked away, Sam didn’t say anything. You knew they were going to follow you, you felt their silent conversations lingering in the air as you left the room, discarding your gloves. In your head you could see them communicating with lifting eyebrows and shrugging shoulders – they were so obvious; and predictable.

–

“We are going after her” Sam said to Dean after he heard you leave. Dean nodded as he started taking off his own gloves, side eyeing his brother. Dean wasn’t stupid – he only acted like it – he knew that there was more than one reason for Sam’s eagerness to follow you.

“So…” He started and Sam knew there was something he might not like hearing coming. “Are you going to play the brave soldier saving the damsel in distress?”

Sam stopped and looked at Dean, absolute confusion adorning his features. “What?”

“Man c’mon, you can’t be thinking that she is the monster now can you? Look, I did the tests while you were…pining over her” Sam opened his mouth to argue but Dean didn’t let him speak. “There was holy water in her drink at the diner, the utensils she was using were pure silver…”

Sam was shocked that his brother thought that quickly, he didn’t even notice…Okay, maybe he was infatuated by you a little too much.

“She could be a ghoul,” Sam argued as a last resort.

“Already looked her up, no one that has that beautiful face has died around here. I’ve looked through the FBI database too, she’s there” Dean said. Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the tiniest bit of relief knowing that you were really human. You were, in fact, beautiful, stunning even. Maybe Dean was right, maybe he did like you, a lot.

“Guess I owe you that six pack then” Sam said.

“Hey, I get the six pack, you get the girl, seems like a fair trade” Dean said, raising his eyebrows tauntingly with a cheeky smile on his face. Sam chuckled and shook his head.

“Either way, we have to go after her because if this ghost decides she’s next on its list, we need to get there before she gets hurt” Sam said in all seriousness as he started walking out of the room, going towards the exit. Dean followed suit, the Impala keys already on his hand.

–

They arrived at the house a minute or two after you. You were waiting in the house’s living room as you heard the rumbling of the old car’s engine. You had your weapon ready and loaded as you heard them open and close the door of the house. As soon as they turned the corner, you lifted your gun.

“Stay right fucking there! Don’t you dare move or else I’ll actually kill you, for good this time!” You screamed at them, gun in hand pointed towards Dean’s head. They widened their eyes and stopped all their movement. Sam opened his mouth to try and talk and you shifted the gun to point at him instead. He shut his mouth again and you saw his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. You were fuming, anger making your hands shake lightly.

“Did you really think you were going to fool me? Who do you think you are– Better, who do you think I am?” They stood as still as a rock. “Sam and Dean Winchester” You said their names, venom running through your tongue as you did, your gun pointing respectively at each. “You better start talking or I’m popping your heads off, speak!”

“Okay, okay, look we can explain” Sam started.

“You fucking better”

“We are not dead” He said and you looked at him like he was stupid. “Me and my brother we faked our deaths but we had a reason, a much bigger reason”

“You killed people”

“We didn’t, at least not intentionally, we do the exact opposite, we save people Y/N”

“How? The deaths are there, if you are telling me the truth and really save people you do a terrible job at that” You countered. You admitted you only said this to get under their skin because if anyone knew that saving everyone was impossible was you, a federal agent.

“Put the gun down and we can talk” Dean spoke up, talking to you calmly and moving his hands slowly to try and reason with you. You were reluctant but something in their eyes, their actions towards you didn’t indicate any imminent danger. Maybe you were being stupid and, at the end, you’d be lying in a ditch, lifeless, left there to rot but you wanted to give them a chance.

“If you try anything funny I’ll claw your eyes out with my bare hands” You said and Dean, even shocked, nodded slowly – you were exaggerating but you felt the need to. You sighed and put your gun back in the waistband of your pants and saw the boys breathe in a deep breath of relief.

Sam and Dean exchanged those looks again and finally looked at you. Sam was the one you wanted to talk to, you felt deep, deep down that he was going to tell you the truth and that he was actually a good guy, that all that he did until now wasn’t just an act and he was really nice.

“Me and Dean we…We hunt monsters”

Well, now your hopes are shattered. What the fuck.

You just looked at him like he was clinically insane and waited for him to continue.

“I know it sounds crazy” Because it is “And it probably is but it’s the truth, we don’t think whatever killed that couple was a human, this is why there’s no DNA, not a single clue and why the case is hard. I assume you were assigned it because you are smart and a good agent but this is not your kind of case”

“It’s ours” Dean added and Sam agreed with a nod.

You were dumbfounded. They sounded so serious as they explained to you about the tons of different supernatural beings that existed, things you only ever heard of in fictional books and horror movies. Halfway through the talk you looked physically sick, your face pale and eyes dissociated completely and Sam quickly got a chair, ushering you to sit down. He was looking at you with such a guilty expression, like he felt bad for lying to you.

Once they stopped talking you spent a good five minutes absorbing it all as you stared at your hands folded over your lap. You thought you knew things, you thought you could solve everything, that all you needed to do was analyze everything to its minute details and you’d find a solution. Truth is, you were completely oblivious all this long, so many things that you had no idea existed causing trouble around the world, things worse than humans could ever be. You were an idiot.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Sam asked after a while, making you look up at him. “I know it’s a lot to process…” He said, carefully laying a hand over your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you.

“I’m going to be fine” You said harshly. Sam felt the slight disappointment in your voice and frowned as he looked down at you. He had seen tons of different reactions to ‘the talk’ but this one was one of the worst, where the person feels upset with themselves for not knowing about this sooner, the kind of reaction he saw mostly on authority figures such as cops and federal agents like yourself.

You stood up and his hand fell from your shoulder. You needed to make this right, paranormal or not, this was still your case and you were solving it one way or another.

“Show me how you do it” You said, turning to look at Sam. The phrase got Dean’s attention as well as a sudden tension fell upon the room. Sam looked at you with confusion “This case is still mine, I want to learn how to get rid of…whatever killed that couple”

Sam exchanged looks with his brother. “I don’t think this is a good idea Y/N, you can get hurt” He said. You rolled your eyes and stepped closer to him, less than a foot between the two of you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m a federal agent, you don’t get to tell me I’m going to get hurt when I literally hunt and kill people if needed” You said angrily pointing your finger at him accusingly “Your little Ghostbusters roleplay doesn’t scare me”

“Okay, can you two stop? Let’s get out of here and go study about the house to see if we find anything about someone who died here who might want revenge” Dean said, approaching and looking between the two of you. “Please”

–

After spending two hours in the nearby library you finally found something. The one responsible for the killings was someone named Alicia Meadows who died in the late 60s, not little kids – it seemed like even the own urban legend the locals passed around was wrong. She was a woman who lived in that house with her husband and kids. One night she found her husband in their bed with another woman and went crazy, killing them both with a shotgun and then shooting herself. Ever since then she’d been killing couples who stayed there, the trauma of the cheating made her assume that everyone who laid in that bed on the same date, every two years, she found her husband and his mistress was also having an affair.

You three soon found out where she was buried and, after the brothers explained to you and made you swear not to arrest them for grave violation, you were driving to the cemetery.

As Dean was digging up the casket you stood beside Sam. “Do you guys do this everyday?”

Sam looked at you with a smile. “No, sometimes we behead vampires too”

You looked at him wide eyed and chuckled. He laughed with you, his face looking ten times more beautiful under the moonlight and the fucking dimples, the damn dimples. Silence fell between you as the sounds of the night – and Dean’s digging – took over. You wanted to talk more, you wanted to know more about Sam because the little you thought you knew was actually a lie. He was nice and, according to the FBI files…

“You went to law school?” You asked him. He sighed. Well damn Y/N so much for breaking the ice, good job. 

“I did but…I went back to hunting soon after, you can’t run from this type of job you know?” He chuckled dryly. It was clear that was a sensitive subject for him to talk about.

“If it helps, you would’ve made a good lawyer” You smiled at him. “Besides, you look great in a suit”

He seemed stunned for a few seconds, were you flirting with him? He didn’t get to figure out because Dean made a dramatic pained sound as he straightened his back, breaking the casket open. The putrid smell of death rose and you scrunch your nose. Sam helped Dean get out of the hole and started showering the bones in alcohol and salt and you watched as Dean threw his lighter in making huge flames rise up. You jumped when it happened out of shock and Sam held your shoulders so you wouldn’t fall back, the flames roared loudly with what seemed to be the anger of the woman.

Dean started gathering their stuff and you turned to Sam. “So, is this it?”

“Yeah…pretty simple actually” Sam shrugged. He looked at the fire and you could see the flames dancing in his eyes. You found Sam handsome ever since you laid your eyes on him but now, after a whole day by his side, the light touches you shared throughout the day and the care he showed towards you you wondered if it’d be too bad if you kissed him right now.

“Sam” You called him lowly and he turned to you. You stepped closer and you could see his hands clenching and unclenching by his side, as if he was holding back the urge to touch you. Your faces were inches apart and you could now see every little detail about him. The light stubble that adorned his face and the blush of red in his cheeks that you didn’t know if it was because of the heat of the fire or because you were this close.

You smiled at him and in that moment Sam couldn’t hold himself back. He closed the distance between the two of you as one of his hands cradled your cheek and the other was gently placed on your waist.

You let one of your hands place itself on his neck as you reciprocated the kiss. It was electric and warm, his soft lips over yours felt like a sweetness you didn’t know you were craving to taste. Your heart was beating fast and Sam slowly dragged your body closer to his with the help of the hand he placed on your waist.

When you pulled away you slowly opened your eyes to look straight into his and let out a stupid giggle – like a teenager after kissing her crush. Sam chuckled back as his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly.

“I've wanted to do this ever since the diner” He admitted and you bit back a smile.

“Really?” You asked.

“Really”

The moment was interrupted when Dean honked the Impala, impatiently waiting for you two to finish whatever you were doing so he could go back to the room and finally sleep. Sam showed him the finger as Dean yelled a curse back making you laugh at their stupid teasing.

“Let’s go Sam, Dean’s impatient. We can finish our talk at the motel” You said, your words full of innuendo making Sam turn back to you. You knew you got him when you felt his hand squeeze your waist for a moment before letting go.

“Oh yeah?” He said with a grin, looking down at your mouth and back at your eyes. You nodded.

“Yeah”

A/N: Likes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading XoXo

[voxisdaddy]

You

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Type: Angst

Featuring: A lil bit of Alastor

"I really wanted it to be you. So badly. Until I understood that you didn't want it to be me." -b00zell

“I really wanted it to be you”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Never in the decades that Vox has been in hell that he thought he’d find someone who just gets him the way you do. It almost blew him away. It’s ironic he’s asking but-were you hypnotizing him? No. Of course not. But no one could deny that you had him wrapped around your finger. And you barely had to do anything. You were just… you. The way you smiled, laughed, carried yourself, spoke, touched him, ect. Everything you did was just normal things and yet it seemed like it meant everything because it was you. He remembers one night when you showed up in casual clothing to a fancy dinner date. He remembers how embarrassed and apologetic you were-the name of the restaurant didn’t seem all that impressive at the time. And despite your initial worries that you embarrassed your perfectionist boyfriend that night, the cyan electric current that flashed into a heart shape from the tips of his antenna’s was enough to make you feel flustered for a completely different reason. Hell is forever. And since that night, he felt his forever with you would be the most enjoyable.

“So badly.”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ VoxTek and Vox’s status as an Overlord just kept growing and growing which meant things change. For the better-he thought. Of course his beloved wanted to see him be as successful as can be. But as the success kept going, the more your lives seemed to not matter as it once did before. Weekly date nights turned into monthly date nights. No longer would you go to bed together and wake up either entangled in each other’s limbs or one of you snuggling into the other. Good morning kisses before he leaves for work? Yeah… good luck catching him before he’s out the door. Home cooked meals? Sweetheart-why bother when he can just order the highest quality meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? His mood swings worsened-if even possible-and soon coming home to a partner that’s already sleeping would just make him more agitated. Marriage was casually brought up by Velvette-something about wanting to make wedding dresses for an upcoming fashion show-he doesn’t quite remember. His inner fans were working hard in his head as the thought of you in a wedding dress kept him deep in thought. Perhaps rings binding you two together legally would reunite some spark. Yes. Surely it would!

“Until I understood,”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It was some dumb argument. Something small and meaningless. But the stress and constant work days Vox faced paired with your loneliness and bitterness that started growing however long ago seemed to have erupted. Things were said. Tears were shed-mainly from you. When things calmed down, Vox foolishly thought you’d be in his arms all night as you had makeup sex just like all the times previously-wait what do you mean you’re done? Their was no more shouting and tears that night but everything remained tense and heavy. Very bitterly and painfully Vox huffed as you packed a bag. You’re not serious. You’ll come back to him and everything will be okay.

“that you didn’t want it to be me.”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It had been several years. For months he tried everything to win you back until one day you just vanished. That was impossible. He had cameras everywhere in the Pride Ring. He would have noticed. An extermination wasn’t due for months at that point so you wouldn’t have been taken. What happened? One day Alastor showed up after being gone doing god knows what. Vox was of course angry about Alastor but couldn’t help and be filled with little rejoice when he finally saw you on his monitors again. That was rather short lived when rumours spread that Alastor had taken a lover and had spent 7 years on honeymoon with them. You know… Vox is incapable of crying, at least in the typical sense. His head wouldn’t allow it. So then how come seeing that ring wrapped around your finger make him feel like he could do the literal impossible?

“I really wanted it to be you…”

I hope I did okay for my first one lol. This took longer to come out than I thought it would. I’m only a smidge over 24 hours so it still counts right, RIGHT?!???? I’m kidding. Thanks for reading!

💕🌸

[valiantstarlights]

[Loving You is Cherry Pie] How It Started

Featuring doting father Alpha!Hob (43) and his son, recently presented Omega!Dream (20).

Not me looking for something appropriate(?) to post on Father's Day and finding this in my notes. 👀

The title is from the song, "Paparazzi" by Lady Gaga. While it could mean that loving someone sweet is as easy and enjoyable as eating cherry pie, knowing that Lady Gaga is allergic to cherries changes the meaning of the lyric drastically.

CWs: Aside from the dead-dove-ness of the premise, there's also toxic family dynamics (Dream's mother and her side of the family) and all the unfun stuff that goes with it, like verbal abuse, gaslighting, etc.

Important: This is (hopefully) going to be a series of non-linear oneshots. Maybe even a series of 'what if' oneshots. Who knows what I'll do? Certainly not me. 😂 Oh, and because this is an omegaverse fic, it's going to be on AO3 for public consumption. Anyway, Happy Father's Day, everybody! 😉

--

The Missus

"Talk to your son, Robert."

"And a very good morning to you as well, Nyx. May I ask what happened?"

"I merely requested, very reasonably, I might add, for him to call you 'Father' instead of his childish nickname for you, and he slammed the door in my face and called me a bitch."

"I see nothing wrong with Dream calling me 'Papa,' though?"

"You see nothing wrong with it. But everyone else is telling me how they think Dream is a spoiled, immature--"

"Everyone else, huh?"

"Yes! Look, I'm just concerned because the boy's birthday is coming up, and everyone on my side will be at the party, and--"

"Wait. A party? Nyx, you know Dream hates parties. And--"

"(scoff) That's your argument? 'Dream hates parties?' (laugh) And so what if he does? It's a family tradition--"

"Be reasonable. Dream is going to be presenting on his birthday, and he's overwhelmed enough with crowds. What more when--"

"Destiny is an introvert as well, and he did admirably at his presentation party. And besides, we both know Dream is just being dramatic, so you need to stop encouraging him. He's almost of age, Robert! He needs--"

"You're right. He's almost of age, and I think it's high time for you to start treating him like he's an adult who can make his own decisions. Have you even asked him what he wants to do on his birthday?"

"(scoff) Lock himself up in his dorm room and read his silly books, no doubt."

"So let him do that."

"Not a chance in hell. The party will be good for him. And besides, when was the last time he interacted with the right sort of people? Ever since he started at that no-name university you stupidly let him attend, he has been meeting all the wrong sorts! No wonder his attitude is becoming worse. He should spend more time with his cousins, especially the twins, who always ask when they'll see him next."

"Ha. Right."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Are you kidding? You know Desire and Despair are only asking when they'll see Dream next so they would know when they'd be able to bully him again."

"Bully-- How dare you! The twins are absolute angels!"

"Yeah. Because knocking Dream unconscious and locking him up in a closet in the attic for almost an entire day when he was nine years old is absolute angelic behavior. If I hadn't found him--"

"My god, when are you going to let that go? It's been…what, a decade? And the twins have already apologized. You were there. You saw that Dream has already forgiven them."

"Okay, one, the twins did not apologize. You made Dream apologize to them, and he only did so because you threatened to throw all his books out of the house."

"That is not--"

"No. You know what? I'm not going to argue about this with you anymore. Dream is going to decide what he wants to do for his birthday--"

"He is going to alpha the fuck up and go to his own presentation party that MY family is so graciously throwing for him--"

"--and you can decide whether or not you want to support his decision. Goodbye. (hangs up)"

--

Dream

"Hey, baby. How are you?"

"…Good."

"Everything okay? How'd you do on your paper? That was due this morning, right?"

"…I am not calling you 'Father,' Papa."

"(sigh) I never said you had to, baby. But you can see where you went wrong, yeah?"

"No."

"You called your mother a bitch."

"She is a bitch. And a hundred other worse things. She's lucky I stopped at bitch."

"Dream."

"Fine. I will apologize to her. For you."

"Good boy. And speaking of, your birthday is coming up."

"I already know what I want."

"If it's hardbound volumes of the complete works of Shakespeare--"

"(laugh) I know you hate him, Papa, so I won't torture you and make you buy things related to him for me."

"Well, that's a relief. Because I was just about to say that I was talking to your mother, and I told her that you're old enough to decide what you want to do for your birthday. So…you know, if you just want to have a pizza party with your closest friends at that gaming cafe you all go to--"

"Oh, Papa, really?"

"I know you hate the Endless's unnecessarily lavish parties, baby. So yeah, really. Consider it an additional birthday gift from me to you. If you want it, that is."

"I…Yes. I would love that. And you will be there as well, right?"

"It's your call, Dream. If you'd rather just celebrate with your friends, I could just pay the gaming cafe in advance and leave you young people--"

"No! I…I would love for you to be there. And you're not that old, Papa. But if you're busy on that day…"

"Me? Busy on my son's birthday? Never gonna happen. I would move heaven and earth and all my meetings so I can share with you all my hard-earned wisdom via dad jokes--"

"Papa--"

"--and now all your friends shall suffer the same fete!"

"Papa!"

"Get it? Fate and fete?"

"…"

"Regretting inviting me yet?"

"…Never. I was just--oh, Jessamy just arrived with our food. Hey, Jess."

"Take-out again?"

"This will be the first time this month. (muffled) Yes, it's Papa."

"Well, just be sure to limit eating take-out meals. I bought you all sorts of kitchen stuff for your dorm so you two could use it for cooking, not for decoration."

"Yes, Papa."

"Don't roll your eyes at me, baby."

"How did you--"

"Ah, hold on. (muffled) Yes, a moment, please. I have to go, baby. But enjoy your dinner and say hi to Jessamy for me."

"Yes, Papa. I'll send you a picture of our food in a bit so you may suffer for your fete joke while you're in your meeting."

"(laugh) Evil. I like it. Well, send away, baby. I'll talk to you later. Love you!"

"I love you too, Papa."

--

Jo

"Hypothetically speaking, if the house is in my name and Nyx barely resides here, can I charge her with trespassing and destruction of property?"

"Jesus Christ. What has the bitch done now?"

"(sighs) Just…we had an argument--"

"Surprise, surprise."

"--and after Dream told her he wouldn't be attending her family's presentation party for him, she has been…"

"A fucking psycho? As usual?"

"Basically."

"How's my cute nephew, anyway?"

"Thriving at university and making friends with equally brilliant people. He was home this weekend, telling me all the updates on his group's DND campaign when Nyx burst in and…well. You know."

"Yeah. And how many times have I told you to divorce her?"

"About as many times as when you pranked me when we were kids. But--"

"No. Dream is almost an adult, and he fucking hates her. There is literally no need for you to suffer her and her crazy family anymore."

"(sigh)"

"You know I'm right."

"You almost always are. So…what, do I need to lawyer up or something?"

"I mean, I already have a list of lawyers for you to choose from, if you're not fucking around anymore."

"(laugh) Hold on to that, then. I'll talk to Dream first and see what he thinks."

"What he-- Hobs, who the hell do you think gave me the list of lawyers?"

"Dream did?"

"…You know, sometimes I wonder if I actually did hit you too hard with that plastic shovel on the head when we were five and you lost all your brain cells that day."

"Alright, that's enough. I think I'm losing more brain cells just by talking to you."

"You can't lose more if you already have none, stupid. But yeah. Think about it. Divorcing Nyx, I mean."

"Been thinking about it more and more, to be honest. But keep that list ready, yeah? Just in case."

"Yep. Bye, Hobs. Tell Dream his favorite aunt says hello to her paleo mushroom bean."

"I still don't fucking understand why you call him that, and why he doesn't mind you calling him that, but yeah, sure. Bye, Jo."

--

Dream

"Happy birthday, baby! I'll see you in a bit. Just gotta get your super secret birthday gift from my super secret lair--"

"Take your time, Papa. And leave the dad jokes at home, please?"

"Mwahahahaha!"

"…That does not bode well."

--

Papa

Papa? (Missed call.) (Missed call.) (Missed call.) Papa, please pick up. I need you.

--

Dream

"Hey, Dream."

"Papa!"

"Dream, I--"

"I'm so sorry, Papa. I suspected, but I didn't really know for sure. I… Do you hate me now?"

"I just need some time to process this. But I'm okay. And no, I don't hate you. This is very much not your fault."

"But…you're not mad at me? I love you."

"…I love you too, baby. I'm just…I needed to breathe for a bit. Sorry for suddenly walking out. How did the rest of the party go?"

"(wet sniffle) It was okay. Matthew ate most of the cake, and I think Lucienne won the most games so she got the chicken dinner crown."

"What do you mean, 'I think?'"

"I wasn't really paying much attention to what was happening after you left. Sorry."

"Oh, baby."

"I just…(quiet sob) I missed my Papa."

"Fuck. I'm so sorry, Dream. I promise I'll make it up to you. We could…I don't know, rewatch your favorite series over an unlimited amount of pizza, or see a Shakespearean play at the Globe Theatre--"

"(wet laugh) But Papa, you hate Shakespeare."

"Yeah, but…I love you more. And I'm willing to put up with that bastard's--ah, hold on. Jo's calling."

"You should take Aunt Jo's call, Papa. I'll be okay."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Jessamy's here. We're rewatching Legally Blonde. Say hi, Jess."

"(muffled) Hi, Mr. G!"

"She says hi."

"Yeah, baby, I heard. So you're sure you're okay over there?"

"Yes, Papa."

"And you don't need anything else? Pizza? Blankets? My secret hot chocolate recipe?"

"No, Papa. All I needed was for you to call me."

"Oh, baby."

"I'm really sorry."

"Dream. You have nothing to be sorry for. And I'm not mad, nor do I hate you. I just…(sigh) It was…and still is, honestly, a bit of a shock. But I will always be your Papa, even if we're not blood-related. Okay?"

"Yes, Papa."

"Alright. I'll talk to you soon."

"Okay. …And Papa?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I still…(deep breath) Am I still welcome to go back home?"

"Of course, baby. You're welcome to come back home any time."

"And…And you promise you don't hate me?"

"I promise. I can never hate you."

"Okay. I love you, Papa."

"…I love you, too, baby."

--

Jo

"Shit. Sorry, Hobs. Jet just landed. Why the fuck were you calling me 27 thousand times? Are you okay? Is Dream okay? What's--"

"Dream isn't my biological son."

"I…What?"

"You heard me. I just found out when he presented as an omega and I reacted to his scent."

"You reacted-- Oh, fuck."

"I had to get the hell away from him as soon as I caught his scent. Calmed myself down a bit. A lot."

"Shit. You're compatible with him?"

"Yes."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Hobs."

"Fucking tell me about it."

"Have you talked to him yet?"

"Yeah. Just now, actually."

"How is he?"

"Worried that I hate him. Or if I'm mad at him. He wanted to know if he could still come home, Jo."

"Why the fuck would you be mad at him or hate him?"

"That's what I thought as well. Because right now? He is the last person on this earth who I will ever be mad at. But that's not what I was calling you about."

"Oh? Dream not being your bio son isn't the reason why you were calling me repeatedly like a fucking lunatic?"

"Yeah. I need you to give me that list of lawyers, Jo."

"Oh, hell yeah. Let's destroy this bitch."

--

The Missus Nyx Endless

We're over.

Excuse me? (Missed call.) Pick up the phone, Robert. (Missed call.) (Missed call.) (Missed call.) (Missed call.) You're acting like a child. (Missed call.) (Missed call.)

Stop calling me. Can't you read? We're over. Done.

And do I get to know why you're so callously filing to annul our marriage a day after our son's birthday, when he didn't even have the decency to show up to his own presentation party?

Yeah, okay.

Well? Go on.

Imagine this, Nyx. Imagine my shock and mortification when Dream, MY son, presents as an omega, and I, his supposed biological father, react to his scent. You know, in hindsight, I can see why you so desperately want him to present as an alpha. Why, if Dream did the 'proper' thing for once and became the alpha you always wanted him to be, then I would never know of your infidelity. In fact, I seem to remember a couple of nurses remarking that Dream looks healthy for supposedly being born premature. But was he really? Or was he born right on schedule? I mean, did you even pay attention in your required Secondary Gender classes? Because an alpha reacting to an omega's scent means that they're not related by blood to them. So yeah. We're over.

(Missed call.) Look, can you just pick up your phone so we can talk like actual adults instead of you suddenly accusing me of infidelity, as if you're some faultless saint who has never lusted after loose omega whores?

Funny. I'll have my lawyers contact you.

(Missed call.) (Missed call.) (Missed call.) (Missed call.)

Yeah, I'm still not gonna pick up and let you scream and gaslight me like you always do. I can fill in the blanks well enough by myself. All those work trips before our wedding? Not exactly rocket science. All I need from you right now is for you to sign the goddamn documents my lawyers are going to send.

And if I don't?

Gee, I don't know. I mean, it's not like my family owns an entire media company and has a lot of connections. Surely I wouldn't destroy you and your family's image, right? Because you've been such a good wife to me and a good mother to Dream, and you have never, not once, cheated on me with another alpha. Kronos, was it? What? Nothing to say? Fucking thought so.

--

Bean

"Aunt Jo?"

"Yeah, Bean?"

"Thank you for earlier."

"Nah. I should've fucking decked the cunt years ago. Glad I got to do it now. Seriously, don't mention it. It was my pleasure. How's your cheek?"

"Papa put an ice pack on it as soon as he could. Mother didn't draw blood, but Papa hasn't calmed down yet. He's calling even more people as we speak."

"Good. Keep that ice pack on your cheek. I'm coming over in a bit. Just gotta finish up here. You want anything?"

"Maybe vanilla ice cream for me and fish and chips from Cain and Abel's for Papa?"

"You got it."

--

CEO of Gadling Corporation Annuls Marriage to Estranged Wife

Robert Gadling, 43, annuls marriage to wife, Nyx Gadling (nee Endless) on grounds of infidelity prior to their marriage. (more on page 6.)

--

Lucienne

"Hey. I just heard the news. You okay?"

"Yes."

"Dream."

"I'm fine."

"But?"

"I don't like that I have to go by Dream Endless now. But I'm glad I don't have to see anyone from that side of the family anymore. I don't like that people whisper about me everywhere I go. But Papa doesn't hate me and I'm welcome to stay with him for as long as I want. It's a mixed bag, but I actually prefer this to how it was before."

"I mean, obviously. I met your mom once and all I could think of was hitting her with a chair. No offense."

"None taken. I wish you had. That would have definitely made last year's Halloween party more exciting."

"Alas. I was too worried about getting arrested in my Uhura costume. You were dressed as Morticia Addams, right?"

"I was. Mother was supposed to be Morticia, but she claims her costume shrank in the dryer and so foisted the costume on me. She went as the Bride of Frankenstein instead. Something about being the wife of a monster."

"Yikes. Thank god your dad had a late meeting and didn't arrive until after she had passed out from drinking most of the alcohol in the bar."

"...Mm-hmm."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Dream."

"It's nothing, Lucienne. I just remembered I have a paper due on Monday that I have yet to do, what with all the...drama."

"Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry for suddenly going off on a tangent. I really just wanted to see if you were okay."

"And I appreciate you calling to check up on me. Truly."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll leave you to the tender mercies of your academics then, Dream Gadling."

"Thank you. I much prefer that name over the one I have right now."

--

Papa

"Hello? Papa?"

"Hey, baby. Is everything alright? It's one in the morning."

"Yes. I'm safe in my dorm. I was just thinking…Can I still call you 'Papa?' Or do you want me to call you something else now?"

"'Papa' is fine, baby. I mean… (pause) Yeah, I think it would be strange if you suddenly called me 'Robert' or something."

"You don't have to sound so disgusted with your own name, Papa. I think 'Robert' is a perfectly lovely name."

"Aww, thank you, Dream. (paper rustling)"

"Are you still working, Papa?"

"Ha. I wish. No, baby, I'm looking through profiles right now."

"Of employees?"

"(sigh) Of omegas."

"Omegas."

"Yep."

"…"

"You there?"

"Why."

"What do you mean, 'why?' For marriage, of course."

"Marriage."

"(sigh) Yes, Dream. Marriage."

"You and Mother just got your marriage annulled barely a fortnight ago."

"Yeah, well, your Papa's not getting any younger, and the Board is breathing down my neck trying to get me to get married again."

"What do they care?"

"Well, baby, it turns out that I don't have an heir yet."

"What do you mean? Am I not your heir? Did you not raise me to run the company competently one day? I'm good at the job, Papa. You know I am."

"You are. And I said the exact same thing to the Board. But they still want me to have a biological child to inherit the company someday. You know. Far into the future."

"So you have to marry again. And have a biological child with your new omega spouse. Children."

"Look, Dream, it's not like I'm having the time of my life right now."

"And me? Am I…Am I expected to just step aside for this new family of yours?"

"Baby, no. You're still my heir. Even the Board acknowledges how brilliant you are. But--"

"But once I have outlived my usefulness, I will be replaced by someone who shares your blood."

"Dream--"

"I'm suddenly feeling drowsy, Papa. Good night. (hangs up)"

"Shit."

--

Dream

No one will ever be able to take your place, Dream. You are my son, no matter who your biological father is, and I will always love you. (Missed call.) (Missed call.) (Missed call.) Can you please at least let me know if you're safe? I'm getting worried.

I'm safe.

Okay. That's good, baby. Thank you for letting me know.

--

Jessamy (Dream's roommate)

Jessamy? Is Dream alright?

Hey, Mr. G! I mean, yeah? He's quieter than usual, but he's going to classes and eating and sleeping normally. Is everything okay?

Not sure, actually. Look, can you please keep an eye on him?

Yup, sure thing! Anything in particular you want me to look out for?

Just strange behavior, I suppose. The two of you have been roommates for a couple of years now, so in a way, you know better than I do what to look out for.

--

Eleanor

"I'm sorry. I don't know what has gotten into him."

"Hey, it's okay. It's totally understandable that he'd be very protective of you."

"It's just… I've never seen him act like that before. He's usually so well-mannered."

"Seriously, Robert, it's fine. Sure, he glared at me the entire night and interrogated me like I'm a criminal, but given what you both have been through, I get it. If I were in his shoes, I would totally do the same thing."

"I don't think you would 'accidentally' spill a glass of red wine over another person's clothes, though."

"Pssh, please. I have 'accidentally' spilled many an alcoholic drink when I was in uni as well. Granted, I spilled them mostly on handsy alphas."

"I'm really sorry."

"And I really don't mind. It's a dress, Robert. I can get it dry cleaned. If anything, Dream has provided me with the perfect excuse to go shopping."

"You don't have to be so understanding about this. He was a right little hellion tonight."

"Trust me, I've dealt with worse. Oh, hold on. (muffled) Oh, thank you, Chris. I just got home."

"Good. Great. I'll see you soon?"

"(laugh) I'll see you during our business lunch on Monday, Robert. And don't worry, it will take more than a glass of 'accidentally' spilled red wine on my dress to scare me off."

"(relieved sigh) Thanks, Eleanor."

"Ellie. You've dabbed enough napkins on my person to call me Eleanor."

"Ellie, then. Good night."

"Good night, Robert."

--

Dream

"Dream. Care to explain your behavior tonight?"

"Not really."

"Dream."

"Robert."

"…Okay, I'm going to give you time to calm down, but I still expect that explanation from you. And an apology to Eleanor."

"…"

"Dream."

"(hangs up)"

--

Jessamy (Dream's roommate)

Um, Mr. G? Dream came back yesterday at around 3AM, and he was really hungover this morning. Please don't tell him I told you.

Alright. Thank you, Jessamy.

--

Dream

"I said no, Corinthian."

"…Corinthian?"

"…Papa."

"Anything you need to tell me, baby?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Right."

"…"

"Well, I just called to tell you I won't be home this weekend."

"Understood. I am to let no one in, and all exterior doors must be locked at all times. Should an intruder somehow get past security, I am to hide in the safe room first and call you and/or Aunt Jo second."

"(sigh) Dream…"

"Is there anything else?"

"I miss you."

"…"

"We've barely talked since I started meeting with potential omega partners, and when we do talk, I get the sense that you'd rather do anything else than talk to me. What do I have to do? I feel like I'm suddenly doing everything wrong where you're concerned."

"If I ask you to stop meeting with other omegas, would you do it?"

"Baby…I have to."

"Then there's nothing left to talk about."

"You know you're one of the most, if not THE most important person in my life. I want you to be a part of this decision too. Anyone I choose must also have your approval."

"And if I choose no one?"

"(sigh) Baby…"

"You say I'm important to you. But--"

"Hold on. (muffled) What? Now? Goddammit. (sigh) Listen, baby. I have to go. But I'll call you later, okay? Just before my plane leaves, as always. I hope you answer. I don't like leaving on a plane without talking to you beforehand. You're my good luck charm, you know?"

"Fine. What time shall I expect your call?"

"(muffled) Yes, it's Dream. Just one more second, Ellie. What was that, baby?"

"Nothing. I said I'll pick up when you call. Is that Eleanor?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. We're both attending the same international conference, so I invited her to just fly with me on the jet."

"...I see. I have to go to class now."

"Oh, of course. Sorry for keeping you. Have a good day at school, baby. Love you."

"(hangs up)"

--

Papa

Ppa help In eed you Ith urts

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 6

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; fighting and mentions of injuries, but nothing specific tho

notes ; happy holidays, fellow childe enjoyers!! hope you’re all having a wonderful time. this chapter feels close up-y if that makes sense but i promise there’s MUCH more to come >:3

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you see childe as faceted.

he’s childe, he’s tartaglia and he’s ajax- all at once and one at a time. he’s childe, the ruthless maniacal warrior who prioritizes strength and triumph above all else- a weapon of war. he’s tartaglia, the calculating, fake smile wearing, connection-making debt collector- a fatui harbinger. but then, he’s also ajax, a warm, family loving, hug providing and dream protecting big brother- your best friend.

you see all three of those people in him. though… the latter, not so often. he was ajax when he was at home, seeing his family and playing around with teucer, that you know, but you hadn’t seen him in morepesok in more than half a decade. no, the last time you saw him be ajax was when you were fourteen- you called him ajax for the last time when you were fourteen.

ever since then, he’s been childe.

you’ve never made the mistake to call him otherwise, because there was no mistake to be made at all. when you were in zapolyarny palace, he was childe. when you were dining in liyue, he was childe. even when you first sparred and eventually fought in the golden house, he was childe.

so why is it now when you’re faced with an entirely new being, biology indecipherable yet identity indistinguishable, that you call him ajax?

perhaps you’d like to blame it on exhaustion- you’d been fighting incessantly for whoever knows how long, fingers sore from gripping your weapon so tight and legs shaking to merely stand. or perhaps it’s the sheer confusion and inability to truly comprehend the sight before you, there’s no plausible explanation within your grasp as to why he’s even able to transform into that after all. or maybe… maybe you see too many people in him that aren’t ajax anymore.

and you’re desperate to see ajax again.

and the worst part is that you can’t even name the being before you, you can’t come up with what or who it could be within childe’s facets. the mental gymnastics happening in your brain render you frozen, limbs heavy and heart erratic- leaving you to fall motionlessly when the creature stabs his weapon into the ground and promptly shatters it. the falling rubble reveals a whole new lower floor of the golden house, one that your downturned gaze can’t help but stare into as you’re falling. as the ground seems to get closer, you shut your eyes and brace for the impact, hoping it’ll at most break just your ankles.

but the impact never arrives.

instead, you feel a tug to your sleeve that breaks the violent pull of gravity you were experiencing- it results in your feet making the gentlest contact with the ground. you assume it was paimon pulling you just in time as she floats down along the two of you, because the second you open your eyes she’s flying over to the traveler to check on her.

the sight takes away any notice of the purple flash that passes through you in the very same moment.

after a brief recovery, the two of square up for a third time as you spot a purple spark from across the settling dust of the debris. it’s centered and tall, telling you the glow is coming directly from the singular eye of the creature.

“you got to the gnosis before me, didn’t you?!” a deep, distorted, growling voice yells out, yet you can still hear a bit of childe’s own voice within it.

“did you simply move faster? or… did you leak the information regarding the golden house to me on purpose? was it you, y/n? have you been working with them from the start?!” he swings at you expertly, electro trailing after the weapon’s path while surges of water shoot up towards you at the same time.

“no matter. hand over the gnosis, now! don’t make me take it from you…”

“w-we didn’t take it!” paimon defends.

“do you hear yourself right now?! none of us could’ve taken it, it’s not here!” you add coarsely.

he doesn’t seem to hear you as he incessantly strikes and blinks away from your attacks, sending his own long ranged lightning strikes instead. both of you take several heavy hits from the creature and after some time, you feel like you’re about to collapse. you don’t have anymore energy to heal yourself, much less the traveler- yet you still push yourself to sustain her as much as you can. you think you’ve reached hallucinatory levels of exhaustion when you see… it.

an impossibly large elemental whale that surges from the ground.

it flies upward with a deafening vocalization and slams back down with waves of water. you back up as far as possible as the whale takes up the entire floor, even if you doubt that what you see is real. that very doubt is soon dispelled when you watch the traveler fall to the ground where the whale just landed, soaked in water. you panic and rush to aid her but before you even get to the traveler’s side, the creature’s large blade comes down right in front of you- it was so close that were you even an inch forward, it would’ve sliced your face clean off. the traveler gestures for you not worry about her as she get struggles to stand up and eyes the creature, who’s currently preparing a charging surge of electro and hydro, while you’re cornered.

the seconds before he strikes seem to slow down while your heart pumps inhumanely fast- your mind scatters for what to do until you look down took your feet, noticing the way the excess water ripples with your steps. your hand twitches with cryo energy and a wall of ice shoots up the next moment, extending all the way to where the traveler is still getting up. the unexpected defense catches the creature off-guard and he staggers for a moment, giving you the chance to sprint all the way out and behind him, where his starry cape floats endlessly into nothingness. you almost land your sneak attack when he suddenly seems to sense your presence and turns around just in time to retaliate.

“all you do is run!” he growls.

when he slashes his electro-charged weapon this time, you manage to catch it with the pole of your own spear, holding it away from you with all the might you’re still able to muster. movement from your peripheral vision catches your attention.

“now!” you yell.

the traveler understands perfectly and jumps to hit the creature from the back while he’s still busy pushing back against your polearm. the strike seems to be final, as the creature drops his weapon from yours and steps back, falling to his knees. another flash of purple light emits from him and suddenly, childe is in the creature’s stead once more.

he heaves weakly, head turned down defeatedly.

“ngh… well then, time to cool off.”

childe is practically spitting out the words with how much force he has to put into getting them out. “it seems the burden of the foul legacy transformation was too great on my body. i lacked the opportunity to think this through…”

foul legacy… well there’s its name. seeing childe in front of you again makes the entirety of the last few minutes seem unreal, like you woke up from a nightmare where childe was… that. like it never happened- though the sheer amount of injuries that all three of you bear prove otherwise.

“…you had no connection to the gnosis, no matter where it’d been taken.”

“that’s what we’ve been trying to tell you! we didn’t take it!” paimon urges, hands on her hips.

childe struggles to get to his feet, as if his limbs have turned to lead, once he finally gets to it, he’s still panting coarsely.

“this battle has already left me satisfied. anyone who strives as i do to grow stronger shall be called a friend, even if our friendship can only be shown in battle against one another.” with the next sentence, childe eyes you momentarily, when you try to catch his gaze back, it’s already gone- as if he’s too ashamed to actually meet your eyes in return.

“pretty sure that’s not the normal way to make friends.”

you snort. “you’re still expecting anything normal after all this?”

“unfortunately, i mus bring this amiable conversation to an end. my quest still beckons. given that the gnosis wasn’t taken by anyone, we must look to the beginning- it was never in the exuvia to begin with. in fact, it might be that the exuvia was just a diversion of sorts.”

“hm… i wonder who called that way beforehand.”

“what? so you mean that…” paimon trails off and the traveler finishes.

“…rex lapis is alive?”

you nod. “it would appear so.”

“it seems that the guardian deity of the capital of commerce is also well-versed in little maneuvers beyond the boundaries of contracts. as such, we must now look to our backup plan.”

your heart sinks.

with all the commotion, you’d nearly forgotten what you went to the golden house for to begin with. to deter childe from summoning osial. suddenly, all the tension and uneasiness from the fight creeps back into your spine and the traveler notices instantly, visibly becoming concerned herself.

“childe…” you warn.

paimon, on the other hand, remains clueless. “backup plan?”

“i had hoped it would never come to this… for the weak to be swept away in the process. the truth is, the world belongs to those who pursue strength- i seldom willingly involve myself with the weak. unfortunately, we cannot be picky about our methods as fatui harbingers, children must all learn to eat their vegetables sometimes.”

his choice of words and childish expression seems to only pour more salt into the wound- famously something you heard his mother nag him about when you were younger, which in turn you’d hear him complain about to you in private. seems like he’s more than learned to eat his vegetables and only the gods may know how much you wish he didn’t.

“so what’re you planning to do?”

“i will awaken the god that lies dormant beneath guyun stone forest.”

“a god?!” paimon exclaims.

you sigh, shamefully averting your gaze to the ground. “osial, overlord of the vortex… he was defeated by rex lapis in the archon war. he’s remained pinned beneath the geo archon’s spears in guyun stone forest ever since.”

“if such an ancient god were to be unleashed upon liyue harbor, defenseless without the protection of its deity…”

your fists are shut so tightly that your nails start digging into your palms.

“he means to draw out rex lapis with a threat to his people.”

childe nods smugly. “do you truly think the cunning rex lapis would just stand aloof and watch the ensuing destruction?”

paimon’s gaze scatters around nervously. “but… the archon war ended two thousand years ago! how could an ancient god appear in a world now overseen by the seven?”

“simple. i’ve already prepared the means to awaken it.”

an amber aura suddenly surrounds childe and within another flash, sigils of permission start orbiting him.

“hey! those are sigils of permission!”

“the fatui have been researching them and… well- duplicating them.” you might as well assist in the exposition of the plan, no point in standing helplessly aside while childe prepares to drown an entire city. any chance of stopping him forcibly was also out the window, on account of how physically worn you were- standing on your shaking legs at all was already a challenge.

soon enough, thunders can be heard outside the golden house- it’s already done. you only don’t feel completely and utterly hopeless at how the next moments might turn out because, after seeing the traveler’s abilities in action, a sliver of faith festers in your chest. now it’s up to her and the adepti to deliver.

“hahaha! let’s see… will the nation that lost its deity be swallowed up by an ancient malice once more? if you wish to drown together with the people of liyue, you’re free to stay and enjoy the show!”

as childe laughs evilly, he’s swallowed by a vortex of water that floats up into the ceiling of the house and disappears without a trace and the three of you that remain rush out to catch up to him. unsurprisingly, there’s no clue as to where he might’ve gone and as the traveler and paimon prepare to head to the harbor and face again straight osial, they stop to look at you expectantly. you tell them that as much as you’d like to aid in the fight, you should go look for childe.

—

“heh… here to finish the job while i’m still weak?”

for someone so crafty, childe is not exactly hard to find. in fact, he’s in the first place you even think of looking- the mountaintop where you first sparred, sat against the trunk of one of the outer ginkgo trees in the area. his position displays a perfect view of the catastrophe you caused, the jade chamber floating before the seas where osial emerges from. childe doesn’t even turn to look over his shoulder when you arrive silently but he knows it’s you, almost as if he was waiting for you to show up.

“depends on how this conversation goes, really- and trust me when i say we have plenty to talk about.”

the harbinger remains silent, only turning his head to watch you sit neatly beside him against the next tree over and waiting for you to keep going.

“first of all… what the fuck was that in the golden house?”

he laughs, boyishly this time.

“a lot happened back there so that’s not very specific, but i’ll assume you’re referring to foul legacy. i guess i do owe you this explanation.” childe averts his gaze and sighs deeply, like he’s preparing to admit something difficult. the very start of his sentence justifies that.

“when i disappeared that day, i… fell. not like tripping on the ground or anything, i literally fell through the earth.”

you feel your entire being sink at the mention of that day. as painful as it is, you recall the exact moment he’s talking about- the very second the disappeared from your sight in the snow, at least now there’s some clarity as to what happened. unfortunately, that clarity doesn’t make anything any more comprehensible.

your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “w-what?”

“even after all these years, i myself don’t exactly know what happened. i just remember lying there in the snow, the wolves getting closer and closer and then- suddenly, a crevice opens and i fall straight through the ground. and i end up in the abyss.”

the abyss… you haven’t heard much about the abyss. it’s never come up as something of relevance or even interest to you. it’s always felt like such a distant topic to you, like i’d never truly be important enough for you to involve yourself in- turns out you’ve been sitting right next to it. snapping yourself from your brief thoughts, you turn to see childe with a tense expression, as though recalling is physically taxing to him.

“childe… you don’t need to tell me this if you’re-“

“ajax.”

“what?”

“call me ajax, please. i heard you say it back there and it’s been so long since you’ve called me that.” he asks, almost breathlessly.

so he did hear you before. dammit. the desperation for the name present in his voice sends you into reminiscence- about your time as children- how happy you were, how free you were, how careless you were. it seemed just like yesterday you were still fourteen and laughing with ajax as you played in his childhood bedroom. how did it all end up like this? with the two of you sitting in a mountaintop- pathetic, injured and tired as you watch an entire fucking catastrophe happen to a nation from far away.

ajax goes on to tell you about his time in the abyss, where he met a woman named skirk, where he was taught all he knows about combat, including but not limited to the foul legacy form, and where he became the killing machine that he is.

“then… can i ask- the day you came back,” you start off and the memory already brings stinging tears to your eyes. the scar on your neck, the one you still have from ajax’s sword, seems to start burning as well.

“why-… why did you react like that? was it the shock from all you went through?”

ajax’s expression turns to that of a kicked puppy- well in this case, he would be the one to kick the puppy and feel endlessly guilty about it. he eyes your neck and spots the small slit of scarred tissue, flinching at his own doing.

“i-i would say so, yes. if i’m being entirely honest, i don’t even remember that day very well. i guess i was still in a state or fight or flight… well, heh, in my case only fight.” he chuckles sheepishly and you return it.

“i’m… i’m really sorry for hurting you, y/n. i know i’m not exactly in the place to say that after fighting you twice in a day but- i promise i never intended to back then.”

you nod in understanding, you’re too spent to even try to be mad at him right now. looking back towards the fight, you watch osial take a heavy hit from the defenders of liyue just in time. at this point you’re not even worried that they might not win.

“i’m tired of fighting, ajax. as annoying as you can be sometimes and in need of a bicker, i’m tired of being… on edge whenever we talk. we’re clearly having a nice talk right now so, tell you what- what about a truce? let’s not make each other’s lives harder than they already are.”

ajax seems to physically light up at your proposition, like it’s all he’s ever wanted. he nods fervently and flashes a giddy smile that infects your own face subconsciously. you reach into one of your pockets with an idea, pulling out a small object that you present to him on an open palm.

“here. a symbol of our truce.”

you offer him one of the origami stars you made before, it’s not like you have any use for the hundreds of them that you made. ajax takes it into his own hands with the gentlest of holds.

“since when do you know how to make these?”

“since earlier today. i was astronomically bored waiting for the millelith to show up.”

ajax snorts out a laugh, then a second passes by and he bursts into full hearty laughter and for the third time, you can’t help but to join in on him.

“wait! does this mean we can still spar every once in awhile?”

“don’t push it, harbinger.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap

[geminialchemist]

Long post with Hazbin Hotel S1 spoilers!

While I don’t think it’ll happen, what I’d love to see from season 2 of Hazbin Hotel is an episode set in Heaven, directly after the events of S1E6 “Welcome to Heaven.” Preferably, this episode will be either the first or second episode of the season, with Adam still alive and kicking as Heaven prepares for the next Extermination Day.

Why do I want an episode like this? Simple. Because after what happened in S1E6, Heaven has to be in a lot of turmoil. I’m talking total chaos, protests in the streets kind of stuff. Think about it from the perspective of one of the winners. Hell, think of it from the perspective of Angel Dust’s sister in Heaven, Molly.

You’re Molly, and you’re dead, and end up in Heaven. Score! So you go searching for your twin brother, who died before you(probably, canon is unclear right now). You two were close, and you had the best relationship with Anthony out of anyone in your family.

You search for a while. A very long while. Heaven is a big place, after all. You don’t find Anthony anywhere. You ask around, and no one has seen or heard of him. Doubt builds up, as this can only mean one thing and you dread getting that answer. Finally, you go to the big name taker himself, St. Peter, and ask politely if your brother has been through the pearly gates, and you hear the worst news since you got to Heaven, he didn’t make the cut and is in Hell.

So now you’re asking around to find out if anyone has ever made it up from Hell and into Heaven. Surely someone has, right? But as you ask the angels and other winners around Heaven, you get a variety of replies, ranging from pity to some straight up laughing in your your face over the very idea that a sinner can be redeemed. The answer, no matter who you ask, is the same. A resounding “No.”

So, Hell is forever(whether you like it or not), and you’ll never see Anthony again. There doesn’t even seem to be a way to message sinners, or visit them. You don’t think he deserved his fate, but you can only hope that Hell isn’t as bad as everyone says it is, and that he’s doing well down there.

Then one day, someone from Hell is visiting Heaven, which is unheard of and is causing a ruckus. The Princess of Hell herself is here! After a song and dance number, you discover she’s here for a trial hearing about if a sinner can be redeemed or not. This is the best news you’ve heard in decades! You might have a chance to reunite with Anthony! You go to the trial, take a seat in the gallery of the courtroom, and what you find out is horrific.

Hell is worse than you thought. Your brother, Anthony, of all people, is the example the princess of Hell is using to make her case, and now he goes by Angel Dust, and is forced to be a porn star. Despite unknowingly passing every test that Adam and the Seraphim place on him, they still deem Anthony unfit for heaven, even as Emily argues against this, siding with Hell’s Princess. Why is the princess of Hell more concerned with your brother’s fate than Heaven, who are supposed to be the good guys?

And even worse, you find out that every year, Adam and a bunch of angels under his command go down and kill sinners, just like your brother. Adam slaughters them, and doesn’t hide his enjoyment of his actions, even proclaiming his intentions of attacking the very hotel that is trying to rehabilitate sinners as his first target for the next extermination. And the head Seraphim, Sera, says and does nothing to stop him. She absolutely condones his monstrous actions.

Heaven has been killing people, committing genocide, for who knows how long? Denying your family, friends, and loved ones who didn’t make the cut a chance to change, and then murdering them? Anthony has only managed to survive by luck or skill, and now his head is directly placed on the chopping block after he’s gone through all this effort to get into heaven in the first place?

And now the courtroom is in shambles, angels arguing over this earthshattering news that Adam and Sera have been hiding from them. Even some of your fellow mortal souls are torn into two camps, one who thinks the sinners deserve whatever is coming to them, and the other like yourself who don’t want their friends and family in hell to suffer even more.

You decide to Hell with Heaven. Torches and pitchforks all around as over the course of a month you do everything you can along with your fellow likeminded angels and Winners to get the extermination canceled. Protests, threats, petitions, you try everything, but it’s all in vain as Adam gathers his troops and goes down.

Thats what I wanna see in the start of season 2, with the Heaven focused episode ending with Sir Pentious arriving in Heaven, proving a sinner can redeem themselves, and putting an end to the conflict. But just because Heaven decides to end the exterminations and work to redeem sinners now that there is undeniable proof walking/slithering among them, doesn’t mean it washes away their own sins. Sera can’t bring back the millions who were killed by Adam and his legions, who now will never have a chance to be redeemed and reunite with their loved ones in Heaven. Molly wouldn’t even know if Anthony survived the last extermination.

Let there be a shake up in heaven, let there be lingering resentment towards the angels for what they’ve done, let there be some kind of conflict or consequences for the actions Heaven took. I always hate when a show glosses over stuff like this. I want the final shot of this hypothetical episode to be Sera and Em sitting in that room, with protests right outside their door, discussing what needs to be done. Sera wanting to continue the exterminations, even if if it angers the winners because she believes its in their best interests, and Em trying to get Sera to change her mind, and call off the attack, only for Sir Pentious to pop in like he did at the end of season one, ending their discussion because now Sera doesn’t have a leg to stand on anymore.

You can even keep a comedic angle by having the Winners be terrible at civil protests because they’re all so goodie two shoes. They don’t want to throw a brick through a window, that would be rude and mean!

[nnight-dances]

HOW YOU FALL FOR SEVETEEN (FT. MY FAVORITES LINE)

the title is self-explanatory but also a complete lie, i love all the members so much but thanks to it being like my first month as a seventeen enjoyer, i only so much about so many members. this is purely self-indulgent so feel free to let me know how insane i sound and also, if i messed up their personalities.

as mentioned before, jeonghan is my favorite and thus, you can see how i’m being particularly mean to him. hate is my love language <3 also, someone please teach me how to write scoups because i love the man so much (no idc if he’s like a decade older than me) but could not bring myself to write anything for him. thanks, friends and foes!

jeonghan

…unrequited love probably? LMAO sorry but he’s my bias and i am convinced his standards are really, really high. like you’d have to discover and name a new continent after him before he looks your way.

okay, i’ll stop being mean and start being more delusional: a strangers to lovers maybe? because i feel like he’d be fascinated by you at first so he’d get to know you slowly. you’re wary of him when he tries to get closer to you,, because like… why is this sly devil of a man throwing you eye smiles left and right?

anyways, the moment you let your guard down around him, he’d invade every waking thought you have until you don’t have a choice but to rant to him… about him. yes, he’d watch with a smug smile on his face, as if he’d planned every second of this, and patiently wait for you to finish before leaning in and kissing you because apparently, his feelings were “obvious enough” (his words when you shriek away from him)

mingyu

best friends to lovers, for sure (and i imagine it’d be something like this)

it’s because even though he’s extroverted, i just feel like he’s still pretty reserved and so i think it’d take a long time of knowing him to be intimate enough to be a lover?

he wouldn’t have being anything more than friends for a long time because he enjoys the space of a friendship and he thinks of it as a test for how well the two of you can work out. mans taking this way too seriously but it pays off when one day he gets to call himself your boyfriend.

be careful though, i feel like timing matters a lot with him, and if you get it wrong…

hoshi

ummm this one is hard because the possibilities with hoshi are so endless?? anything could works?? he’s just so loveable that any way you meet him would be so precious

but since he’s introverted, i feel like with him it’d take a long to move on from one phase to another just because both of you are unwilling to budge. like it’s a waiting game with you guys where both of you are constantly dropping hints and neither is picking anything up.

so i’m thinking a fake dating situation for some external pressure that slowly reveals how comfortable pretending to date hoshi seems… maybe because you’ve always been a little more than friends….?

dk

oh god, another loveable one, someone save me… um but in full seriousness, he’s so sweet i can’t imagine anything that wouldn’t work with him

but i’m leaning toward idiots to lovers with a LOT OF mutual pining because neither of you can tell if the other is flirting or just that nice to everyone (spoiler: you both suck at flirting so the fact that the possibility is even being discussed in the slightest… yeah, you’re down bad for each other)

idk he’d be so easy to fall for that even if you’re not generally too good-natured, it’d take everything to not go the extra mile for dk

the8

academic rivals to lovers is soooooo enticing with this one,, because you’d have to match him point to point for his pretentious but wise tendencies to keep up in a romantic relationship

and like, tell me if i’m wrong, but it’d be clear from the beginning that the two of you transcended the boundaries of friends because you’d dwell on the others’ actions for wayy too long for it be friendly banter or even genuinely malicious scheming

just takes you a frustratingly long time to smooth out the feelings because you know you want to maintain a slightly hostile tone when it comes to him or your life would lose all meaning and stimulation

wonwoo

listen … i’m considering one-sided love to lovers? because how could you not fall for wonwoo when you first get to know him? he’s just weirdly good at everything… and so calm

but when you let him know your feelings, i think he’d be so awkward about rejecting you (maybe because doesn’t truly want to) and you’d catch on pretty quick

fast forward to a few months and you’re still friends with him because well… he’s way too captivating for you to leave. so you’ve been pining from the sidelines for a while until wonwoo wakes up one day with the sudden awakening that he enjoys your company as something more than friendship

yeah, took him long enough, but he’s so sweet when he confesses that your heart breaks a little. he apologizes to the verge of tears for making you wait? and thanks you for not abandoning him? and then shyly admits that those things just made him fall for you more.

joshua

you don’t understand. there is nothing but an enemies to lovers in store with this one because he looks so normal that you unsuspectingly try to befriend him, only to be shocked by his attitude. he’s a little bitch. and for what.

for one, he’s so hard to understand, only showing the slightest surface of his personality and when he does,,, well, your head’s suddenly throbbing because what the fuck. someone restrain this man.

no but you’re always ready to fight him especially because he makes it his life mission to follow you around and one thing leads to another until he’s … um in love.

you promise you have an out of body experience when he tells you he’s in love with you, showing unprecedented seriousness, and his sincerity alone would’ve been enough to woo you

[ronearoundblindly]

Lexi's Monthly Edit

July 1st - July 28th, 2024

In case you missed any of the new posted content this month, here's a handy-dandy list--some with short excerpts--and links to all of them.

Below the cut you'll find 5 fics and 3 ficlets for your enjoyment!

He Needs the Calories, one-shot Steve Rogers & Reader humor

Steve's eyes shift guiltily from where you stand to the fridge and back. You drop the bag of peanut butter chocolate chip treats and step backward to open the french doors. "What's in here, Steve?" "Nothing," he rushes. "What's in the fridge, Steve?!"

Take My Whole Life, Too, part one, a Fools Rush In tale (mature) Steve Rogers x lab tech!Reader's honeymoon

“I almost can’t believe it,” Steve says quietly. “Believe what?” He could mean the beauty of the sky, or that Tony knocked it out of the park with your escape of a honeymoon, or that he didn’t croak instead of getting through all those mental and physical hurtles to be with you. You’re just not sure. Personally, you’ve ‘almost not believed it’ since the Captain America started talking to you, so it’s hard to judge. Steve doesn’t answer right away. His voice grows even softer. “Happy. That’s all.”

Yield, a sequel to Warning Signs Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader hurt/comfort

In your months of working with the Avengers, the captain has never once casually assigned an endearment. He says ‘ma’am’ more often than not and barely has nicknames for the teammates he’s worked with for a decade.  Everyone is Agent, Sir, or Miss. Your last name has always been enough. You were none of those things last night. You survived a horrid battle, a crippling loss, and a solitude which almost drowned you; it’s silly to admit how he heals your wounds with one simple word. Sweetheart.

Entwined (mature) Nomad Steve Rogers x Reader smut

Not until the second arm is secured all the way down, his hands reaching past the seat to the chair legs, does Steve’s breathing pick up, audible huffs with every exhale, his abs jumping every so often. If he expands his lungs fully, the rope strains, digging into his skin. The taboo nature of giving up and giving in has become a favorite release of his. You feel honored to be entrusted with this secret, and the most important part is, none of this makes Steve weaker or darker. He simply likes to sit still, take a backseat, and enjoy experiencing your enjoyment. He allows his mind to go blank. Only then will his body be drained of the thick tar of war and refilled with the electric arousal of now.

I Left You Something On The Body, part of No Promises (mature) Lloyd Hansen x rival assassin!Reader

At some point, you can’t tell if you two are letting each other get places first on not. The money is, oddly, totally irrelevant, and your career takes on a renewed joy. Lloyd claims a target. You show up, kill them, and drop off an intricately-packaged Gucci jock strap with “Eat Me” embroidered at the back of the waistband, right above his asshole.

Firefighter!Curtis, a blurb-inspired ask Curtis Everett x Reader AU

Gif-Inspired Drabble for It Had To Be You (mature) CEO!Steve Rogers x CEO!Reader

Mermaid Feelings Headcanon for Sun, Salt, and Shield Steve Rogers x deep sea mermaid!Reader

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: That's actually a decent amount yet, for some reason, feels like nothing...😢

[raventhekittycat]

went and rewatched m27 in 4dx and holy crap 4dx has really improved and changed since my childhood! Definitely recommend it!

Spoilers under the cut

Something I noticed this time round was the close up of Aoko has one of the worst same face syndrome I've seen with Ran which means in another decade or so we'll find out they're also cousins! (Wasn't Aoko's mom revealed to be a lawyer in MK recently? I dunno I dont read it it. Prolly is related on the Kisaki side then.)

I caught who took which brother this time for the twins Yuusaku with mom and Toichi with dad! Also somehow missed the first time that the sword they had on display had the correct full tsuba. I had made the connection it was the missing sword before but somehow missed looking at it up close??? Anyways

ALSO i was right that this one felt like a mystery tour ep! The red-nosed detective (I forget his name) that's Toichi in disguise for most the film until the end where the real one shows up, the real one says he's been on a mystery tour for two weeks with no cell phone. And then they actually show the JR station so yeah looks like another JR wanted in on the action (I would think it's JR east because of the shinkansen but might be wrong, didn't see anything in the credits). Anyways it did work I do want to go to Hakodate now sooooo maybe this summer? Or maybe ill wait til next year and see it with the cherry blossoms

Do appreciate the literal if your a swordsman and im a swordsman than who's flying this plane moment more than expected. Still don't know why Momiji has stun grenades or a pink tardis helicopter. Also though I tried to catch Hijiri's mom's connection still didn't quite pick up on it. Either way all and all an enjoyable film. Still really love the soundtrack on this one too cept for the ending song which is probably their weakest one in recent years.

Oh yeah and if I had a nickel for everytime Shuukichi Ikeda was cast as someone who was thought to have been killed but turned out to be alive in the Goshoverse, I'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice. Anyways love the fact that they hired him for this movie just to give one laugh, not even a full spoke line just a laugh. Was great. Love toichi running around again like a bastard in black. Also funny that Yuusaku mentions to Yukiko she's met him but he hasn't since they seperated.

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: #35

35. ALBANIA Besa - "Titan" 34th place

Decade ranking: 138/153 [Above Vasil, below Mia & Dion]

Besa, darling, this is some GARBAGE.

There you go. My instinctive pavlovian response every time I think about "TiTAN" (*sigh*) since its revamp. End of write-up, the rest is just filling in the dead space. Each time Albania announces a revamp that goes English, the NQ energy comes out.

Sometimes, it's a bit unfair to immediately dismiss a English FiK revamp. Not all of them were without merit, and most still offerend something of value because they were based off good songs.

"Zemrën n'dorë" for ex; was perfectly fine even if the fandom held it in contempt for being "generically Albanian". It was still fun? Besides, "generically Albanian" is like what - Karma or Duje? There are worse places to be, surely. Both still made the final, and were enjoyable in their own right.

If anything, I got a small chuckle out of both of Besa's FiK performances because they underlined Besa's penchant for extra outfits - In the first performance Besa strutted around in badly designed fantasy armour <3

"Every tear's gonna ricochet indeed."

which she then followed up with this Statue of Liberty waifu cosplay

Working her two best assets <3

Sadly, I don't think "Titan" can be ranked amongst the okay revamps of 2011, 2014, 2017 and 2022. It was a fall from the shajte. She took an average song with interesting elements and got rid of the interesting elements, which she then replaced with one of the WORST drop breaks I've ever heard in any song, ESC or not.

The second any of us heard "Titan" in full we knew it was dedge with near certainty, and that was precisely what happened. There were no miraculous turnarounds as with Bambie or surprise outsells as with Aiko and Megara. "Titan" remained uninspired and dull. Even when she was performing it in the semi all I could think about was how hopeless it was. None of the outfits Besa wore in Malmö were particularly inspired and the act was hopelessly stuck in 2017. It's been seven years since Artsvik. Time to move on from the "Hand Choreo into Wideshots" acts, mayhaps.

So, Besa was unremarkable fodder, what's the worry? Why this low a placement? Shouldn't she be ranked amongst the Vladanas and the Ukus?

Well, semi 2 happened to be quite good and even though "Titan" was without question the biggest dud within its line-up, but thanks to its drop and awful act it still managed to stand out as SHIT to me. Which might be worse than not standing out at all. It's one of the two for each one of us, so decide for yourself which one is worse. The fact that "Titan" can easily be forgotten about is its only saving grace, which is the true halllmark of its badness. Once you do pay it even a smidge of scrutiny (which requires considerably more concentration than I'm willing to throw at it), out come the exclamations of "THIS IS NOT IT, BESA."

So in the end, the results spoke for themselves. Besa should have been last place in Semi 2 and that would have been the verdict if she hadn't been the biggest name Albania had sent in years. Even with HER RECOGNITION AMONGST ALBANIANS, she still came second last, with 14 points, the same amount as Victor Vernikos last year, with only a smatting of points from the expat countries, a single point ahead of last place. it was as close a result to nilpoints that Albania could have realistically mustered under the current system, and I can't say it wasn't deserved.

BESA KOKËDHIMA, IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO RETIRE!!!

CAN YOU IMAGINE IF THE OLD FiK SYSTEM HAD STILL BEEN IN PLACE AND THE FIK WINNER HAD GONE INSTEAD?!

This Donkey Kong/Gaston hybrid <3 All he had was arms, a song and a dream. 😭 and I do mean that literally because the one thing Mal didn't have was performance talent. Throwing partitures around ♥ flexing ALL the time ♥ the adlibs, the shrieking, the "fucking hell" ♥ All while sounding like someone throttling a turkey ♥ How did this win a JURY VOTE ♥ Mal would have NQ'd too but it would have been FUNNY and ICONIQUE and MEMORABLE, all traits "Titan" did not have. 😭

HOORAY, we've already made it out of the ~Dislikes~. Yep, only *three* reds/oranges this year. Told you this year's entries were good. Time to rank some bores, mediocrities and mixed bags for the next few days, I guess.

THE RANKING

[coffeeheartaddict2]

When Life has other plans (11/16)

Let’s Play ball

Book: Open Heart (AU)

Characters: Ethan Ramsey, F!MC Casey Valentine, Tobias Carrick

Warnings: mentions of addiction, language, eludes to physical violence, references to masturbation

Catergory: Angst

Rating: Mature

Word count: 2335

Summary: It is the annual softball game between Mass Kenmore and it is an evening full of surprises.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry

Authors note: In all my realities of Open Heart, I have had the softball game as a turning point for not just the relationship between MC and Ethan but also for Tobias. Up until this point all he knows is what June has told him and any speculation he hears on the grapevine but this is the first time he sees them together in a more social setting and he starts making his own mind up coupled with what he remembers him being like. So enjoy the softball game in this AU and enjoy the Dr Carrick perspective.

🥎🥎🥎🥎🥎🥎🥎🥎🥎🥎🥎🥎

There was excitement in the air. Not only was he the lead of the study in relation to Stephanie Hill but it was one of his favourite days of the year. The annual softball game between Mass Kenmore and Edenbrook. In the last decade that he has played, all the games had been close and the atmosphere enjoyable. He was, as always, looking forward to it but this year he seemed to be more so than normal. He had gotten his hand on the team list for Edenbrook. There was some names he did not recognize but there was one that caught his eye straight away. Dr Casey Valentine. He knew about her mainly from June and Aurora Emery, not to mention the inter hospital gossip but he was intrigued to lay eyes on her and start forming his own opinions.

It was game time and the pre game atmosphere was buzzing. He was spying the Edenbrook side from the dugout. Some of the doctors were familiar to him and he presumed the one’s he did not recognize were the names he did not recognize. Then he had to do a double take. Ethan Ramsey. He was shocked to see him. He had not seen him in a non professional capacity in years and it was a shock but then his eyes looked beside Ethan, to a woman that he presumed to be Dr Valentine. They both seemed at ease in each other's company, Ethan even smiled at something she said. He had not seen an at ease and jovial Ethan since college and he had wondered if that part of him existed, which it did.

Meanwhile at the Edenbrook dugout, the team was getting ready. Ethan had never participated in the game, he did not care for softball as a sport but when the team was suddenly short, he found it difficult to say No to Casey. It had been a few weeks since he and Casey agreed to being friends again and things seemed to be well on the surface but mixed feelings were close to the surface, what he felt for Casey and the hurt he felt at the events when he returned, that and the revelation after seeing Louise, well he was surprised that he was keeping it together. Casey went off with her friends and he sat down. Naveen came up, surprised to see Ethan there but he was also happy to see him, not only at the game but appearing to be in a better space than a few weeks ago. Ethan rolled his eyes at the knowing look from Naveen. Ethan also thanked him for the lists of counselors that he provided. He said he has chosen one affiliated not with Edenbrook but he felt that Dr Knowles was a good fit for him for which Naveen also agreed.

The game was tight, Tobias liked it when it was close. He had figured out who Dr Green was and he was impressed with the tactical knowledge that he appeared to be providing, not to mention some serious skill as catcher. At the halfway point there was a break. He went to a drinks cooler and noticed that Dr Valentine was there and also alone. He went up.

“So you must be the Dr Valentine I keep hearing about?”

Casey looks up.

“And you are…” questions Casey

“Dr Tobias Carrick”

“So you are the one who poached my patient?”

“You had a lot of competition, surely finding a way to prevent what that family had to go through is important?”

“What? So you were not stoking the fires of competition then?”

Tobias smirked, surprised that this woman knew that there was history with him and Ethan.

Ethan spied the interaction and made his way over.

“Really Tobias, here I was thinking that nothing had changed since Medical school. “ asserted Ethan. Tobias noted the protective posture. He had never seen that from Ethan before. He did start to wonder how much truth was in the gossip. “Surely he would not be this protective if he only slept with Casey to get her on the team.” He thought to himself.

“What scared I am going to poach your star pupil as well?”

Ethan's eyes flashed with anger, both Casey and Tobias saw it.

“Well it would not be the first time you took something of mine.” Said Ethan through gritted teeth.

Just then Dr Mendoza came along. Tobias rolled his eyes, he knew he was here to shit stir but he seemed to be leering in the direction of Dr Valentine.

“Don’t go throwing threats you can’t follow through on!” Exclaims Terrance, “not all of us are big pharma reps you can punch!”

“Please calm down!” Yells Casey. Glaring at Tobias. “Your overall intention is disgusting and you better be looking after Stephanie.”

Tobias was taken aback. Sure he made a play and so had many others, he had happened to win out, and yeah he had to admit it gave him an ego boost at beating Ethan but it was not the sole factor.

“Of course we are.” Said Tobias. “Believe it or not when I heard about Stephanie it was a good study that would benefit so many others and hopefully prevent what did happen.”

“Yeah well I am not convinced” said Casey before turning and making her way back to the Edenbrook side. What happened next surprised Tobias. He was expecting to get into another verbal stoush which had all the potential to get physical with Ethan but instead he followed after Casey. He could see her calm down when he caught up to her and say something. He was surprised. He did wonder if there was more than friendship there. The game resumed but the atmosphere had changed. It was still close but seemed much more competitive. It was the final ball of the final inning and the bases were loaded. Kenmore was three runs ahead and Edenbrook had two outs. He was quietly confident that once again Kenmore would prevail. Casey came up to the plate. He pitched the ball. He noted the determined look before he pitched and he smashed her over left field. Those who were on the bases made it home. Tobias stood and watched as Casey made her way around the bases, duly impressed. It was going to be close, the ball was making its way to the catcher, he had it. He saw her start to slide, it was like a crash happening in slow motion. She collided with their catcher, she was declared safe but that was not the end. He could see Terrance infuriated that she made it and he pulled Casey off the catcher. Then he witnessed something he thought he would never see again, Ethan Ramsey riled up. He could not hear what he said but he could see he was furious at Terrance for touching Casey. He went in to see if he could break it up but a brawl had erupted by the time he arrived. It did not last long and the referee was appalled. The brawl broke and he noted that Casey was limping. She made her way to Ethan, who looked very concerned. Tobias made his way to the dug out to get ready to go. He glanced over at the Edenbrook side, he saw Ethan bandaging up her ankle. At that moment he did not know what their current deal was but he knew that any emotion that Ethan had towards Casey was genuine. He was surprised but he was also deep down happy. Happy that it appeared possible that he could not get in his own way of his happiness.

After bandaging her ankle, Ethan asked Casey if she would come back to his place for dinner. Casey was shocked to hear the request but she accepted. She knew if it got too late there was a guest bedroom. They went back to the hospital to get changed. Casey did question the choice of top, it was more of a party top but when she picked it, she was not planning on coming to Ethan’s after the game. She caught his eyes wandering briefly before turning away. She should have been appalled but she liked it. They went to his apartment and they went into the kitchen and started making Georgian stuffed chicken. They laughed and talked and it made Ethan yearn for a more simpler time. Casey then asked why he really asked her here. Ethan took a breath.

“Do you remember a few weeks ago when you tracked me to Derry’s with my dad?”

Casey nodded.

“Well he told me that my mother, who had walked out on us, had been in touch with him, wanting to contact me.”

He paused to allow Casey to ask any questions but none were forthcoming.

“I realized that after the Stevenson case that not confronting your past can ruin your future, and I have let my fears from that day ruin too much so I decided to confront her.”

“Did she say why she left?” Asked Casey quietly.

“She resented her life and even though she loved us. She, instead of facing her feelings, ran away. She is an addict and well it was confronting especially when I realized that I was not much better than she is.” Said Ethan, his voice full of emotion.

“Did you talk to your dad again?”

Ethan shakes his head. “How do I tell him that the woman whom I presume he still loves is an addict? Tell me Casey? How do I tell my dad that I am no better than her?”

Casey wanted to know why Ethan thought that he was no better than her but there was a knock at the door. Ethan goes to answer it and he was surprised to see Alan there. Ethan invites him in.

“I was not aware that you were in Boston.” Stated Ethan.

“Well son, I had not heard from you and I know you are busy but I was worried…” Alan then spots Casey, “but it appears I am interrupting.”

“Of course not Alan, there is plenty of food.” Said Casey. Casey mouths to Ethan, talk to him which Alan sees. Alan was about to say something when Ethan blurts out.

“I went and saw Louise.”

Alan was shocked. He did as he told Louise and would pass on her details but if he was honest, he did not expect Ethan to reach out.

Ethan moves to the living room and gestures for Alan to join him.

“I am surprised you reached out.”

“So am I,” said Ethan, “we had just wrapped a case up at work and it made me realize how the past can come back to haunt you so I reached out.”

Just then Ethan spotted Casey trying leave quietly.

“Excuse me dad, I will just see Casey out.”

Deep down Ethan was frustrated, yes he had told Casey about his mum but he did not get everything out. Also as much as he was happy to be back in a friendlier place, he could not deny he still wanted more. As they reached the lobby Casey stated she had ordered an Uber whilst still in the apartment. She gave Ethan a hug.

“I am sorry to hear about your mum, at least you have some type of closure. I can sense there is more you want to say but you also need to talk to your dad.”

Ethan squeezes her tighter, her vanilla perfume intoxicating.

“There is so much more, not all about my mum either.”

He tilts her head and leans down, he brushes her lips lightly against hers. In that moment there is nothing Casey wants more than to continue the kiss but she pulls away. Ethan is shocked.

“Believe me, I have wanted nothing more than to kiss you but you need to speak to your dad. I’m sorry.”

She receives an alert on her phone. “My Uber is here, good night Ethan.”

He stands and watches her drive away. He is torn, Casey did state she wanted more but he did wonder if there was more to her refusal.

Meanwhile, on the drive home Casey was also a mix of emotion. As much as she still had deep feelings for Ethan she knew they needed to properly address the elephant in the room, the fallout from her abortion. She also knew that their reporting lines would be an issue and she did not want her private business known to June Hirata. But she also wanted to be back at Ethan’s hoping her brains fucked out because she did miss him.

Ethan told his dad about the meeting with Louise. How she told him that she said he was not their first, and how she came to resent her life, the addictions she did tell him about and the addictions he presumed she suffered from now. Alan was shocked, saddened but in a way he too now had closure. Alan asked about him and Casey. He stated they were friends and nothing more. Alan could sense he was not being fully honest but he left it. When Alan left, he messaged Casey to see if she got home safely and to state he still had leftovers if she still wanted some. He went and had a shower, thoughts of what he had hoped to be doing instead overtook his mind and he masturbated in the shower before having a nightcap and going to bed.

Casey replied to his message that she would very much like to have some leftovers and said that she hoped the talk went well with Alan. Her mind wandered to the near kiss and all the feelings that had unleashed. She reached for her top drawer and took out her vibrator. “This will have to do” as she began to pleasure herself to thoughts of what she was still unsure she could have.

——-

Authors note:

There we have it the softball game. With some changes obviously. For those who have endured thank you for reading. Not the end of the angst either but things start looking up after the attack.

Tagging: @jerzwriter @jamespotterthefirst @genevievemd @cariantha @tessa-liam @potionsprefect @liaromancewriter @socalwriterbee @trappedinfanfiction @youlookappropriate @binny1985 @lucy-268 @schnitzelbutterfingers @bex-la-get @crazy-loca-blog @a-crepusculo @alj4890 @zealouscanonindeer @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[solidandsound]

Etrian Odyssey - Notes on a Journey

THE PARTY

Surge, Alchemist (portrait three)

Surge is a citrus-flavoured soft drink advertised as having a ‘hardcore’ edge.

Surge is only seventeen, but that makes him the oldest member of the group. He left home at eleven years old in response to his mother’s neglect, having already been cooking and caring for himself for years at that point. He ran away as a test, to see if his mother would notice or come looking for him. She never did. His years on the street have left him cynical, but not unkind.

Pepper, Medic (portrait five)

Pepper is named for Dr. Pepper, a soda developed by a pharmacist.

Pepper’s parents were doctors who spent their time travelling to conflict zones to help the injured, leaving him with his feeble grandmother. He idolized his parents and sought to be a doctor of renown like them, and is extremely knowledgeable in the medical arts, especially for a child his age. When he was eleven, his parents left for a war zone and never returned. His grandmother passed shortly afterward, leaving him with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. It has been a year since then.

Root, Dark Hunter (portrait three)

Root is named for root beer, historically made from a root now known to be a carcinogen.

At twelve years old, Root confided in his parents that he thought he might be gay, sure that they would support him no matter what. They didn’t. For the two years since, he has been on the street. His experience left him extremely closed off; he rarely speaks at all, let alone to share anything deeper than surface level about himself. His confidence is in tatters.

Cherry, Protector (portrait four)

Cherry is named in reference to various cherry beverages, such as Cherry Coca-Cola.

Cherry found herself drawn to femininity at a young age, and took great joy in curating her hair, make-up, and fashion. Unfortunately, this made her a target for men who took her prowess in these subjects as a sign of sexuality—one such man being her father. When her mother didn’t believe her, she left home. She is fifteen now, and spends much time protecting other girls from the gendered violence they are sometimes subject to on the streets. Through it all, she has refused to give up her femininity, holding it as a source of strength. If she can still look good in the situation she is in, she knows she’s doing okay.

Mirinda, Survivalist (portrait five)

Mirinda is a soft drink brand originating in Spain; the word roughly translates to ‘admirable’.

Mirinda is a mischievous 13-year-old girl with a penchant for petty crime. Unlike the other members of her guild, she has somewhere to which she can return, but her parents are so exasperated with her behaviour after multiple failed attempts to correct it that they no longer try to keep track of her and do not blink when she is missing for days on end. She has developed a kinship with the other unhoused kids, who engage in similar activities as her, though out of necessity rather than enjoyment. Her safety net gives her a relentlessly cheery demeanour that can sometimes be irritating, but she is a true friend.

BEFORE THE LABYRINTH

Having been on the streets of Etria from such a young age, Surge is loathe to see kids even younger than him out on their own, and ended up serving as a sort of guardian to many of them, especially Pepper, Cherry, and Root. The four of them, with the occasional assistance by and accompaniment of Mirinda, scraped together the means to survive, day by day. It was difficult, and dangerous, and tiring. It wore Surge down, but for the sake of the kids, he has never given up.

There was one other person Surge was close to, an older man named Leed. Having been homeless for over a decade himself, Leed taught Surge and the kids lots of tips and tricks for survival. Surge also knew that Leed engaged in more dangerous activities that he never shared the details of. One rainy day, Surge turned down an alley and found Leed on the verge of death, having been stabbed. Surge never got the details of this incident; when Leed saw Surge, he smiled, and passed. This was not the only time Surge saw someone die on the streets, but if he could help it, it would be the last. He raided Leed’s belongings, finding that he had stolen some cash and basic adventuring gear from someone. Perhaps he chose the wrong rookie adventurers to ambush...

Living in Etria, Surge always knew that tackling the labyrinth was a career option, but it was one he dismissed as too dangerous. He knew many homeless people who entered the labyrinth and never left it. Now, though, he was tired of life on the streets, tired of the daily suffering, of seeing those kids suffer.

He brought the gear to Cherry, Pepper, and Root, not expecting Mirinda to be there as well. When she heard the plan, she insisted on joining. Surge hesitated, not wanting to subject her to that danger if he didn’t have to, but he knew they would have a better chance at success with a fifth party member, so he relented. He was surprised to see small Cherry pick the bulky Protector gear, and shocked to see the reticent Root choose the bold Dark Hunter equipment. For himself, he wanted power, and thus chose the Alchemist’s glove. With everyone on board, Surge made it clear: they go only as long as they need to, and once they’ve made enough money, they’re out. All geared up, the five of them entered Radha Hall.

FIRST STRATUM: Emerald Grove

While the labyrinth is harsh at first, Surge and the kids soon fall into a rhythm of pushing into the labyrinth, killing some monsters, and returning to sell the materials, while also picking up some odd jobs here and there. However, it is far from lucrative at this stage; they are barely scraping together enough on each excursion to fund the next.

They soon come upon two intimidating women who claim to have been ordered by Radha Hall to guard the way forward. If Bubble Guild wants to progress, they must take it up with Radha Hall. When they do so, they are told that a wolf pack has made the proceeding area too dangerous for rookie explorers, and Surge and his friends must wait until someone else takes care of the problem. To Surge, this is infuriating. All he’s accomplished so far is moving from one meagre lifestyle to another. They need to go further. Without consulting the others, he accepts the mission to take down the leader of the wolves.

The guild is allowed past Ren’s blockade and advances lower and lower. They face tougher enemies, but do so with growing confidence. In Fenrir’s nest, they take down a few of his wolf lackies with ease, lure him into a corner, and work together to take him out before reinforcements arrive. When it’s all done, they report to Radha Hall and get a nice chunk of change for their efforts. It’s the kind of money Surge has never seen in his life.

He consults with the kids. This money isn’t everything, but it’s not nothing. It’s enough that they could get a cheap place, get cleaned up, get jobs—for the older kids, anyway—to sustain themselves. Things would still be tight, and it might not work out, but they wouldn’t be fighting monsters anymore. Or... they could keep going. It’s only going to get more dangerous, but also more profitable.

Root speaks up first: “Let’s keep going.” That’s all he says, but Cherry pipes up to agree, as does Mirinda. Surge looks to Pepper, tells him, If you want to, we can get out of this and get normal lives, but Pepper shakes his head. He knows that the others need him. What’ll they do if they get hurt?

Surge reiterates their goal from the start. They’ll make enough to be comfortable, and then peace out before they get themselves killed. With that, Bubble Guild descends into the second stratum.

SECOND STRATUM: Primitive Jungle

Shortly after first entering the Primitive Jungle, Bubble Guild picks up a job to slay a spider monster that has been causing issues on the fifth floor. It is a fairly easy task for them, but afterwards, Valerie at the bar tells Surge (who always goes in alone, letting the younger kids wait outside) that all the younger explorers are looking up to Bubble these days. Surge is concerned about what ‘younger’ means. Are there other guilds filled with literal children?

Soon the next task from Radha Hall comes in: to steal an egg from the terrifying Wyvern on the eighth floor. Pepper feels weird about this task. Stealing an egg? That doesn’t seem very nice. It’s Cherry who tells him to suck it up. They’ve been killing loads of creatures out there anyway, this is no different.

When they turn the egg in, they are graced with an audience with Visil, the Chieftain of the Radha. Visil congratulates the guild on their hard work, and says he has high hopes for their progress, as few explorers these days make it as far as they have. The kids seem thrilled with the praise, but Surge is unmoved. Something seems sketchy about this guy...

With a little more progress, the guild comes back to town to a further request: to kill Cernunnos, the beast preventing access to the third stratum. On their way to do so, the group runs into Ren and Tlachtga. Ren implies that other guilds have also been given the task, and that Visil expects most of them to die. The kids aren’t intimidated; Cherry insists that they’re better than all the others! Surge can’t help but think of how many kids have been sent to their deaths... Something is seriously wrong with this place.

Nonetheless, they take out Cernunnos and report its demise to Radha Hall. Surge goes into the Hall fully intending to get the reward and call it quits, but when they get the money in their hands, its not quite double what they got for finishing the first stratum. They could get by on this for a while, for sure, but can he really guarantee a future for these kids with this? Plus, they’re all so excited. Mirinda and Cherry are already talking about what they might get next time.

Surge resigns himself. One more stratum, and then they’ll be good. This time for sure.

THIRD STRATUM: Azure Rainforest

Surge gives the kids a bit of a break between strata. He needs a day to think about how far they’ve come and where they’re going. Pepper, Cherry, and Mirinda use the time to relax and hang out, buying some slightly expensive food and otherwise just chilling. Root goes off on his own. He’s heard about a challenge given out by the explorers’ guild, and goes there to confirm. Ganryu, the guildmaster, is challenging adventurers to venture into the labyrinth alone and defeat a Cutter in single combat. Ganryu seems apprehensive when Root shows interest, but does not stop him. Without telling the others, Root goes into the dungeon and challenges a Cutter. His plan is to land enough binds not to worry about the beast’s strongest attacks, but his binds don’t land, and it comes down to pure damage. When he emerges victorious anyway, he feels a great boost in confidence. He is proud of how far he’s come since he started this journey.

Bubble Guild is asked to properly map the 11th and 12th floors, as the Radha’s soldiers are having trouble with it. When the group returns with the maps, Quinn pays them, and also mentions that Visil seems apprehensive about pushing further to discover the labyrinth’s secrets. Mirinda is curious about these secrets, but the others are largely indifferent to them; they are here to get paid. The guild’s next task is to investigate reports of a humanoid creature seen deeper into the labyrinth.

Sure enough, Bubble has a run-in with a feathered girl named Kupala who makes vague warnings about not venturing further. But venturing further is what Bubble is being paid to do, and so they continue on. They make their way to the end of the stratum, where Kupala awaits. She claims that, by coming this far, they have broken some ancient pact. She calls upon a monster, the great Corotrangul, which attacks. Bubble defeats it fairly easily, however. When they do, Kupala is gone, but she has left behind a stone tablet.

The group takes the tablet to Quinn, who rewards them handsomely and encourages them to continue on to the fourth stratum. Surge had planned to tell Quinn that they would be quitting after this, but can’t bring himself to say the words. Despite spending much of their time knee-deep in the forest’s dangers, the quality of life for these kids has steadily gone up. They are wearing better clothes, eating better food. They could dip out now, Surge could get a more standard job, but he wouldn’t be able to sustain this for all of them. Plus, adventuring has been good for them in other ways, too. They seem happier. Root talks a lot more, even when not prompted. So, Surge agrees, and the guild makes plans to enter the fourth stratum.

FOURTH STRATUM: Sandy Barrens

Pepper has acquainted himself with Dr. Hoffman, who runs the apothecary. According to Dr. Hoffman, Bubble’s exploration efforts have already helped with the advancement of medicine in Etria. If they go even further, who knows what medical mysteries the doctor will be able to unlock!

Shortly into the fourth stratum, the guild finds a slot that the stone tablet would fit perfectly into. They return to Radha Hall for the tablet, but Visil is waiting to speak with them there. He explains that, for some reason, the forest folk will stop at nothing to halt humans’ advancement into the labyrinth. Indeed, many adventurers have been killed by them. If they will not stand down, they must be annihilated, for the sake of the town. After his speech, he hands the party the tablet.

The guild is understandably torn about what Visil has asked them to do, but Surge urges them to continue on for now. They do not have to commit to anything yet. A little further in, Kupala appears. Surge is able to ask her about her so-called pact, and for the first time she believes that they are uninformed. She clarifies that humans and the forest folk made a pact a long, long time ago. The pact states that the bottom strata of the forest are left to the forest folk alone, and that humans are not to venture there. Now knowing the truth about the pact, Pepper and Mirinda feel sure that some better solution can be negotiated.

They take this info to Visil. He is unmoved. The bottom line is that, if they obey the pact, Etria will lose its greatest source of income—and so, too, will Bubble. The mission to annihilate the forest folk stands.

The kids of Bubble are despondent. This does not feel right. Surge is the one who speaks up. There is no stability in the world of regular people. If they give up adventuring, they could very well end up back on the streets, scrounging for every meal. Surge is unwilling to go back to that. Cherry and Root silently agree. Pepper waffles, but Cherry reminds him that medical advancements depend on their discoveries. Pepper reasons that more people will be saved in the long run by them continuing to explore than will be lost in the coming conflict... probably.

Surge turns to Mirinda then, and tells her, firmly, to go home. She, at least, does not need to be complicit in this. She refuses. He commands her. She says no. He yells at her to go the fuck home. She cries and says no, no, no. Cherry steps between them. “She’s one of us,” Cherry says. It’s the five of them against the forest folk.

They make their way to a floor that is wide open desert. It is here that they face their first violent opposition from the forest folk. Perhaps the forest folk are out of practice, however... They are surprisingly fragile when put to weapons. The floor is soon littered with greenish corpses.

Bubble clears the way to the final floor of the stratum. Kupala appears here, clearly frustrated. She asks why Bubble would do what they’ve done when their own people want them dead, a statement that makes little sense to Surge and the kids. Kupala challenges the crew, saying that the forest folks’ toughest warriors are on this floor, as well as their guardian beast, the bird Iwaoropenelep. In a gruelling, multi-day showdown, the guild succeeds in eliminating the forest folks’ warrior class. Kupala emerges one last time to admit defeat and say that there is nothing else she can do to stop them, then vanishes.

Back in town, the guild is rewarded handsomely for their success, but this time the money feels foul despite its heft. Still, having come this far, there is no question that they will continue into the fifth stratum, where no one else has gone before. Quinn asks that, as they do, they keep an eye out for Visil. The leader of the Radha has vanished.

FIFTH STRATUM: Lost Shinjuku

The guild decides to take a bit of time to decompress, but Root can’t stand the quiet. He does down to the guild hall, where he learns that there is another solo mission being given out, this time to defeat a Killclaw. Root takes it and heads out without telling anyone. This task is harder than the last one, as Killclaws must be drawn out by the sounds of combat, so Root must take care to fight other creatures first, and not defeat them too quickly. When the Killclaw appears, it hits hard and takes little damage, so the fight is protracted and brutal. Root returns from it victorious but injured, and goes to Pepper for help.

Surge is there, and is shocked at Root’s state. He forces the boy to spill the beans about his solo missions. Surge goes from shocked to furious, and storms into the guild hall to demand answers. Ganryu simply states that he doesn’t prevent any willing parties from attempting his tasks, but provides no comment on how many people—kids—have died on these tasks. It turns out there is one more coming up, and Surge doesn’t want to see Root risking his life on it... so he takes it. He goes into the fourth stratum and challenges a Sickwood alone, blasting it with flame as he is eaten away by its poison. He wins, but barely, and limps back to town, satisfied that Root won’t die by any more of these foolish endeavours.

After the boys recover, the guild finally ventures into the fifth stratum. It is a strange place, filled with bizarrely huge buildings. When passing from one building to another, the guild is stopped by Ren and Tlachtga. Ren says that Etria depends on adventurers coming through, hoping to get to the bottom of the labyrinth, but, for that very reason, none must succeed. Bubble is getting too close, and now they must die.

The problem is that Bubble have gotten this far by their own strength, and that strength is more than enough to smack down Ren and Tlachtga. The women accede. Ren tells the guild that Visil waits for them below.

Bubble chips away at the stratum while taking requests at the bar, as usual. While waiting outside the bar for Surge, Pepper sees a kid younger than him go in, and then, minutes later, emerge, visibly upset. Once Surge returns, Pepper asks about it. It turns out that the kid needs materials to help his sick mom, but only has 50 ental to pay for the quest, so Surge passed on it. Pepper is appalled, and begs Surge to take the quest. He doesn’t want the kid to end up like him, an orphan with nowhere to go. Surge relents, and they find the materials, which, predictably, does not pay well, but Pepper is happy anyway. Even Surge feels good after doing a good deed.

At the bottom of the fifth stratum, Visil guards a large, mysterious door. He praises the guild for being better than Ren and Tlachtga, as well as every other guild that has attempted and failed to get this far. He claims that if the guild simply turns back, he will pay them. This is a tempting proposition to Surge, but as he considers, Mirinda speaks up: “What’s behind the door?” Visil turns quietly furious. He will tell them, but only in exchange for their lives, he says, and then he passes through the door.

Mirinda is worried that she screwed up, and indeed, for a moment everyone looks at her with disappointment, but then they all relax. Surge admits that he wasn’t sure he could trust Visil’s offer. Pepper says he, too, was more curious about what’s behind the door at this point. Cherry is pissed that he had them kill so many forest folk, and now she wants to know why.

Past the door, they hear about the Yggdrasil Project, the civilization lost to time, and Visil’s own role in it all. It seems he felt that anyone knowing about it would put the project at risk, which is why he tried to have the team commit suicide via forest folk, and then sent his warrior pair to finish them. That concern stands: he does not intend to let Surge and the kids live.

However, all his attempts to kill them trained them too well. With Root’s binds, Mirinda’s arrows, and Surge’s flames, Visil soon perishes.

After the guild re-emerges from the labyrinth, they go to Quinn and tell him everything they’ve heard. No one is sure exactly what to do next. It seems wrong to keep what they’ve learned to themselves after everything. In fact, Root reasons that it is better that people know, so they don’t repeat the mistakes of the previous civilization. Surge’s concern is that Etria’s economy will dry up. People are driven to discover the labyrinth’s secret, but now that it’s been discovered...

No matter what happens, Quinn promises, the Bubble Guild will have the Radha’s support, as thanks for all they’ve done. The kids will never go hungry again. In return, Surge asks that some rules are made around who is allowed into the labyrinth. No more kids too young to know what they’re doing should die in the forest.

For a while, they relax, laze around, take in being comfortable for the first time. As they do, they observe the town. If anything, it is busier than ever. Somehow, finding out the labyrinth’s big secret has given rise to all sorts of rumours regarding its smaller, still undiscovered ones. How many have any merit? Surge figures it doesn’t matter, as long as people are exploring. Root starts to get excited. If there is anything left, who better to discover it than Bubble? The kids begin to get excited about going back down there. Cherry would like to find the forest folk girl, Kupala, to make sure she is okay.

And so, though they no longer have any financial need to, Bubble Guild readies themselves for another dive into the Yggdrasil Labyrinth.

[darkhangels]

19. one more time

enjoy the silence masterlist

morpheus x f!reader

words: 5815

warnings: swearing

Morpheus had somewhat felt you enter his realm every night, they may have been extremely late and often short visits, but he could still feel you. He knew you weren’t sleeping well, something he was entirely disapproving of and wanted nothing more than to scold you about. He tried not to take notice of your arrival and departures in and out of his realm but it was impossible, he was the dreaming after all and could sense every being there, especially you.

So when he didn’t feel you enter his realm the first night he simply decided to shrug it off as best as he could. But then he couldn’t sense you the night after, or the night after that. Eventually two weeks passed, with no visits to the dreaming and he was particularly irritated. Why were you avoiding sleep? You knew better than to deprive yourself of basic human necessities. Still he cast the thoughts out, it didn’t matter anymore. You were supposed to be just another mortal to him, nothing more.

Despite him knowing this it didn't change the fact that it bothered him quite a bit, more than a bit. But all he could do was tense his jaw and brood, only hoping you would come to your senses rather soon.

Morpheus found him thinking about you more and more as the time since your goodbye went on and on. After the first night he hadn’t even allowed your name to come into his thoughts. Instead he distracted himself with his duties.

At least he was being attentive to the realm, Matthew told Lucienne, and Lucienne gave him a weak smile. In truth she worried for her Lord, so did Matthew. And they missed you, they missed you dearly.

Eventually you did worm your way into his mind, of course you would. Every time he felt your presence in the dreaming it was a painful jab to the heart, a reminder of what he could never have.

It will pass, he told himself.

It will pass and you will be no more than a mere memory to him, and he could continue with his existence the way he had before he met you. Before you so carelessly wound your way into thoughts, his soul, his very being.

It will pass and in time he would not ever feel you come to the dreaming again. The thoughts set a harsh lump in the back of his throat. Yes, the pain he truthfully felt whenever you entered his realm when he was unable to see you was hard to bear, but it would be so much worse when he eventually would not feel you any longer. In a mere amount of decades, when a lifetime had passed and his sister would come for you, would he grieve? Would he still love, would he still care?

He wished not, he dearly wished not.

And so he told himself yet again, it will pass, it always does.

Doesn’t it?

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

It had been a week of nightmares and you were at your tether. Despite the terror that seized your heart you had the upper hand of knowing exactly what was causing the nightmares this time. So, the mare was back, that frightened you to your very core, knowing it was lurking in your apartment waiting for you to fall asleep so it could prey on your mind.

Still despite the fear you were not going to just sit back and take it like last time. You had to take a stand

After the first night you considered the options you had. Try and cast it out yourself, get an exorcist, try a witch.

All three didn’t seem entirely too enjoyable, but nor was being plagued with nightmares every time you so much as thought about sleep for the rest of your life.

Of course, a certain someone's voice was echoing in your ears.

Morpheus’ voice croaked seemingly out of nowhere. “If the nightmares ever start again, you come straight to me” He hoarsely whispered.

Your forehead creased in confusion as you looked back up at him. His face was etched deep in something. “I will,” You nodded.

His eyes flew down to yours, gleaming like stars only for a second before returning to the icey blue. “Swear it”

You were taken aback by his sincerity and you swallowed slightly as your lips parted taking in his face. “I swear it” You softly answered.

You had sworn it, under the intense gaze of your lover, laying in the King of Dreams’ bed, you had sworn it.

But that was then and this was now.

Even if you did want to, knowing all the damage and destruction it would’ve brought, you would have no way of getting to him, the necklace no longer worked after all and he had told you only powerful beings could just dream themselves into the heart of the dreaming. And you were not that.

No, no Morpheus. It was up to you now.

You set out to do your research. You were more mindful than last time of course, you most certainly did not go back to that bookshop. Instead you took to Google, looking for ways to get rid of mares.

When Morpheus had gotten rid of them the first time all he had really done was recited some Latin, something you could’ve easily done yourself if you had just known what it was he had said.

Wikipedia suggested drinking coffee before sleep, which was great because it meant you didn’t fall asleep but when you eventually did have to succumb to slumber, the nightmares were still there. Then it suggested sleeping with leather, that did nothing. Nor did inviting the mare to breakfast (that was a strange one, but honestly not a lot shocked you anymore), or leaving a bundle of hay in your bed and sleeping on your sofa instead (the hay stayed in your bed for a good couple of days after that, making sleep all the more worse)

You even started to recite a prayer to god.

None of it worked.

And an irritating wave of Deja-vu hit you.

How, nearly seven months later, when so much had changed in that time, were you nearly at the exact same place in which you started?

You had been so naïve then.

Knew nothing of the world you knew of today.

Which meant that if you from then could’ve done it, without the knowledge you had now then so could you.

Of course then you had Morpheus but that was no longer an option.

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

So you set out to find an exorcist. Finding one that seemed actually legit was difficult. You had scoured the internet for a while before deciding to go old school and pay a visit to the local church instead.

It was one of those moments that caused you to think about all the things in your life that had led you to this very moment right there as you walked through the dimly lit church, candles lit and hymns softly playing in the background.

You had asked a kind clergy worker if they knew anyone who could perform an exorcism or banishment on demons. Of course he had stared at you with wide eyes before rushing you into one of the backrooms, introducing you to a frail man, in his early seventies at the least.

He was called Father Harry and when you told him about the mare he seemed somewhat familiar with the demons and knew the Latin to get rid of them. His gaze bored into you and you found yourself fidgeting and gulping under his intense, narrowed eyes. He had those eyes, the ones where you just know he’d seen things you wouldn’t believe, well you supposed you would believe it now. After all you believed in demons, you had seen one with your own eyes after all. Its face haunting you everywhere you went. Particularly now, now that you knew it was back.

Which raised an entirely important question of why and how had it returned?

Morpheus had insisted the nightmares would not come back, and insisted that the mare was definitely gone. But he never stated how he knew that exactly, nor did he say if there were any other stray mares ready and awaiting to feast on you or the rest of humanity’s vulnerable mind. And he wouldn’t have lied to you, surely not.

You thanked the father repeatedly as you led him into your apartment the next day and into your bedroom, he walked around for a while, eyes surveying the environment. You only grew anxious by the second when he didn’t say a single thing for the longest time.

“Is something the matter?” You asked, trying to not let your voice expose your fear.

He stopped in his tracks and sighed, in one swift notion he took off his glasses and turned to you apprehensively. “I’m feeling nothing”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Pardon?”

He licked his lips coming closer. “I cannot sense a mare”

“But trust me this has to be the cause, I dealt with it a couple of months ago and my friend banished them and just like that the nightmares went away” You stuttered, lips parting in confusion.

The man stood in front of you, nodding. “I believe you, but I do not sense a single malicious spirit near you or this home”

Your forehead creased in confusion, eyes darting to the floor as disappointment crawled into your heart.

The man studied you again, before rubbing his eyes. “I will perform the banishment for you still, but I can’t say for sure it will get rid of your nightmares” Your face somewhat lit up in at least a semblance of hope as you thanked him again, a weak smile stretching on your lips.

He surveyed you with a critical eye. “But if you want my opinion? Whoever your friend was, who got rid of them last time, you should enlist their help”

Your smile faltered. “Not an option, I’m afraid” You swallowed harshly before looking up at him. “All I’ve got is me”

He peered at you contemplatively before nodding, a pitying smile pulling on his thin lips.

He performed the banishment ritual. But that night you still dreamt of a raven, a sacrifice and a death.

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

Next and last on the (very short) list was a witch. You had never believed in witches before but after meeting demons, dreams and an endless, witches were suddenly a very real and very believable notion to you. It wasn’t particularly hard to find a respectable practitioner online with extremely good reviews, named Tara. When you messaged her about the mares she said she had never been in close contact with one but would be happy to help you out.

A few days later she came to your apartment and upon first glance she was extremely interested in, you.

It started when you had led her to your bedroom and immediately her focus was drawn not on the environment, but instead your anxious figure waiting in the doorway. She studied you with beady eyes making you fidget uncomfortably. “Is everything okay?” You nervously chuckled.

Her eyes were still narrowed in concentration. “Yes, I’m sorry for staring it’s just, you have an extremely interesting aura”

“Aura?” You responded in disbelief. Here we go.

Tara shook herself out of her trance. “Sorry, It's just you feel so-”

“So?” You urged, growing slightly impatient.

“So different” She stepped closer. “This is going to sound crazy but sometimes I can just get a sense about where people are going in life, and you?” She laughed, in disbelief. “You are very important to something ”

You smirked in amusement. “Important?”

“Incredibly so”

You nodded slowly, mindlessly though extremely confused.

She shook her head again. “I’m sorry, I’ve weirded you out haven’t I?”

“No, actually yes but trust me, it’s welcome” You huffed. “I’ve been weirded out by a lot of stuff”

Tara furrowed her eyebrows before realisation seeped into her facial expression. "Of course, that’s why you feel different” A faint smile played on her lips. “You know more than you’re letting on”

Your forehead creased. “More than I’m letting on?”

“About what’s out there” She jerked her head to your window.

‘Out there’ being the world, the universe.

You bit your lip, unsure how much you should have said. “I know some things about the universe, yes”

She nodded, giving you a knowing smirk. “Makes sense”

She turned back around looking back at the rest of your room and you let out a breath of air, maybe this woman really was crazy? Or maybe you were Important. The notion was ridiculous, I mean yes of course you were important, wasn’t everyone? Important to select individuals, maybe that's what she meant, nothing more.

You watched curiously as the woman walked around your room. “What’s this?” She asked, creeping over to your bed, as she slowly started to pull out a long black coat.

You instantly rushed to her side. “Please, be careful with it”

She gave you a trusting glance as she handed it to you, you took Morpheus’ coat in your hands and stroked the fabric. “It belonged to someone important to you” She gently stated.

Your eyes snatched up to hers. “How did you know that?”

“I just get a sense” She shrugged, an amused smirk on her lips as she repeated her earlier words.

You searched her eyes and let your guard down only by a bit as you stared at the coat in your arms, thumb brushing against the soft fabric. “Despite it all I like to believe it helps me sleep better”

Tara gave you an understanding smile, before turning her glance to the rest of the room

“Well, I’m sorry I hate to admit it but I think your exorcist was right, I’m not sensing anything strange either” She turned to you. “Whatever it is you’re dealing with its not a mare or any kind of demon”

You let out a frustrated sigh as you placed the coat back on the bed. Before dragging your hands down your face. “How is that possible?”

She shrugged. “I’m sorry, maybe your nightmares aren’t being supernaturally influenced this time”

You turned to scowl at her. “You think this is my mind doing this, purposefully giving me these nightmares?”

Tara let out a huff of air. “I don’t know, whatever it is it's clearly affecting you”

You narrowed your eyes, silently challenging her before she sighed. “Look, I know we just met and I’m completely out of line, but you look like you haven’t slept in years”

You let out a sharp laugh. Normally you might’ve been offended, but she was right after all. You were all too aware of the massive eye bags that had slumped around your eyes, making you look half dead, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, you just assumed when you had started sleeping normally again they would eventually disappear. You had said that several months ago now though, before the nightmares came back.

You turned to her. “Yeah, I know, truth is I haven’t been sleeping well for months even before the nightmares started”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” She studied you for a second. “Maybe it's a force bigger than demons”

“Like who?” You exasperated.

“Someone more relevant to your issues” She responded.

You slowly blinked, your amusement fading away. “Like someone who controls sleep?” You tensed as your figure became slightly more rigid. “Someone who controls dreams?”

Her gaze was on your bed, on his coat before she looked back up at you carefully, eyes boring into you. “If such being exists then yes I would suggest they were the cause of your troubles or would at least know the cause of your troubles”

Your face faltered as you winced your eyes shut. You knew who would exactly give you your answers. But you had no way of getting to him.

And even if you could, if he still loved you the way you loved him, then you were putting Lorna at risk, and whilst you may be not on the best terms with her, you still loved her and could not lose her, or Veronica or anyone else important in your life.

But then again who's to say he still loved you? It had been four months, meaning you two had been further apart than you had ever even known each other. Maybe his feelings had slowly dissipated the way you had hoped yours had. And whilst the thought hurt like hell, maybe just maybe it was true.

There was only one way to find out.

You could’ve just given up, resign yourself to the clutches of insanity. But no. You wanted more for yourself than that. Despite all the pain you had endured you still wanted to live somewhat of a life, and you couldn’t do that with the nightmares terrorizing and traumatising you every night.

But how were you even supposed to get to Morpheus when the necklace no longer worked and-

Oh.

The book.

You never got rid of the book, nor did Morpheus take it. It was still sitting on your bookshelf collecting dust. If you did the ritual again, ask for an audience, it would take you straight to the throne room.

But was it worth it? Was it worth the risk?

And not just Lorna.

But was it worth the risk of seeing him again, was it worth the risk of knowing if he still loved you? And all the pain it would inevitably cause you when you would leave him again.

You thought back to your nightmares, waking up every night, every morning in a panicked haze, feeling the overbearing grief of losing whatever that raven is.

Universe and Morpheus be fucked you had to try.

“Fuck” You whispered to yourself, knowing you had your answer.

Tara slowly turned to her, eyebrows furrowed. “You okay?”

You peeled your eyes open, cursing yourself. “Do you do protection spells?”

Her forehead creased as she nodded. “I do”

You tiredly turned your gaze to her before you let out a shaky breath. “I have some people I need to know will be safe”

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

“So just again for me, Lorna Richards, Veronica Parker and your mother?” Tara said as she stood in your doorway, scribbling down the names on a piece of paper.

“Yes, that’s it” You nodded.

She looked up at you and nodded, “I’ll do them this afternoon and text you when they have been casted.”

You licked your lips. “And how powerful are the spells?”

“They will be protected against any witchcraft, supernatural creature or powers”

You looked up at her cautiously. “What about the universe?”

She raised her eyebrows. “The universe?”

You fiddled with your fingers. “Yeah, well you know, the universe likes to take action sometimes”

Tara stared at you, her expression unreadable, before she sighed. “I can’t say for sure they will be protected from that, but what I can do is do some divination work and let you know if they are in danger, before you do whatever it is you’re going to do”

“You would?” You asked, eyes snapping up to hers.

She softly smiled at you before nodding. Without thinking about it you enveloped her in a hug, she was taken aback for a second before she wrapped her arms around you. You shut your eyes, grasping onto her and you soon realised that Lorna, Veronica and your mother may soon be protected, but you weren’t.

There was no promise that the universe wouldn’t take action against you instead this time. And if Lorna had been a warning. Then whatever it would do to you, would be the final judgement, the final punishment.

You winced your eyes shut, fear clutching at your breath.

But it had to have been worth it, right?

You had taken the gamble before, on a brisk October night staring at the large book pondering whether the ritual was worth it or not.

And well, if the universe truly didn’t want you doing this, it would have never given you the option to go to Morpheus, just for one last time.

It was it’s own fault, really.

You pulled away from her and awkwardly laughed. “Sorry, I really needed that”

“Not to worry” She gave you a kind smile “I’ll keep you updated”

You nodded as you waved goodbye as she disappeared out of your sight.

You shut your door and the bang echoed in your ears as nausea crept up your throat. She had given you so much to think about, and yet, your mind seemed to focus on one thing, Morpheus.

If there truly was no mare. Then the only other cause would have been him .

Was it him, causing the nightmares this time?

Was he punishing you?

He wouldn’t.

Surely not?

One thing for sure despite your still ever growing love for him, if it was him who was causing them. You would not be going down without a fight.

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

Whilst you waited with anxious breath for Tara to arrive home and do her bits you decided to instead wait around the apartment you would go for a walk.

After all, if you were going to do the ritual, you were going to need a feather.

Since it had started to get lighter in the evenings, it allowed the sun to beam longer in the sky meaning the twilight lasted longer. The air felt refreshing against your tense body as you stumbled past the trees that were growing evergreen and getting ready to bloom for summer as it was just around the corner.

How fast the seasons had come and gone.

Each season bled into one another, passing by silently as the year turned every corner.

Autumn and Winter felt like a lifetime ago, the memory entirely unreal. And you hated to admit that those months were starting to become hazy and you soon found it harder and harder to picture Morpheus’ face. Of course, you hadn’t forgotten yet. It just took you a while sometimes.

Had he remembered your face?

You cast the thoughts out as you walked along the path.

You couldn’t help the anxious nausea that crept up your body.

If you were to do the ritual, there was a good chance you may not ever return back to life. The universe may in fact kill you right there and then. Tears bit at your eyes, you didn’t want to die. Obviously, you didn’t want to die. But living in this constant state of paranoia wasn’t much living either.

You had faith in yourself and despite everything it had put you through, you did have faith in the universe.

Still, you had to take precautions. You would write a couple of letters. Just in case. To Lorna, To Veronica and to your mother.

Just to say goodbye.

God, it was so dramatic but it was the absolute worst case scenario.

You knew that there was a chance nothing would happen, which would mean Morpheus did not love you anymore.

But maybe that was for the best after all. Maybe that would be the closure that would help you finally move on, still a harsh lump in the back of your throat made your eyes sting at the thoughts.

The sound of your phone ringing caught you off guard.

“Hello?”

“It’s done, your friends and your mum are protected”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank you so much, Tara”

“It’s my honour” Tara beamed through the phone.

“So how long should the spell last?”

“It's very dependent on how much something wants to harm them, but I’d say, two weeks”

You nodded, at least that gave you time to think this over, not having to rush into anything. “Okay good, two weeks, again thank you so much”

“No problem but listen I did the divination” Tara started after hesitating for a while.

“And?” You urged, breath caught in your throat.

“Well, it seems as though your friends and your mother will be okay-”

You winced your eyes shut, an immense amount of pressure lifting from your body. “Oh thank the heavens above”

“Wait, there’s more,” She said quietly.

You furrowed your eyebrows, turning your gaze to the sky as it was casted in red and orange hues. “Go on”

“I know you didn’t ask but, I pulled three tarot cards for you and I think you may want to hear what they had to say”

“Tarot?”

“You familiar?” She asked.

“No, not really” You shook your head. “You’re gonna have to explain what the cards mean to me”

“Of course,” Tara responded. “But before that I just wanted to say that, my readings are up for interpretation and if you don’t resonate with them then that’s totally fine”

You noticed her apprehensive tone and instantly dread grew in the pit of your stomach. “Why, is it bad?” You licked your lips.

There was more hesitation.

“Tara?” You asked, amusement far gone.

“Well it’s certainly something” She chuckled humourlessly.

“Go on” You urged.

There was a sigh before she started to speak. “First card I pulled was the tower, the tower represents sudden upheaval, in other words disaster”

You gulped, palms suddenly becoming sweaty. “Ok, got it disaster, what then?”

“Next was the hanged man”

“Hanged man?”

“Hanged man represents sacrifice and martyrdom” She continued.

A sacrifice.

You felt a harsh ringing in your ear.

You swallowed, voice no more than a whisper. “And the last?”

Silence.

“Tara?”

You heard a deep sigh. “Just before I tell you and you jump to conclusions, let me explain”

“Just what is it?” You exasperated, anticipation and nausea clawing at your throat.

“Death”

A death.

A chill crept down your spine.

“Death hardly ever means you are going to actually die, it simply means a cycle is ending and a new one is beginning, I would argue that it’s a very positive card”

You gulped, mind becoming fuzzy. “Ok, Tara, but where does all this fit in with me and my life?”

It was silent for a while before she answered. “It’s all very much based on your intuition like I said if it doesn’t resonate then just leave it”

Oh it resonated alright. It resonated big time.

“So you can’t be more detailed about it?” You asked, rubbing your tired eyes with your hands. “Can’t tell me what exactly this disaster is going to be?”

“I’ve tried but..” She trailed off.

“But what?”

She hesitated for a while. “It's a strange sensation that I’ve never felt before, It’s like somethings blocking me from knowing, from seeing your future”

You let out a humourless, tired laugh. “Look, Tara, I’m not trying to doubt your abilities but you have to see this from my point of view”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry but trust me my intuition is telling me this is right, I just can’t seem to pinpoint what this is about specifically”

Disaster, sacrifice, death.

If your friends and your mum were protected.

And let's say that you were protected too then, the only other person to worry about would be… him.

You swallowed harshly. “But this is definitely about me, no one else right, no one else in my life?”

She scoffed then. “Oh yeah, it’s got your interesting aura all over it”

You nodded trying to take everything in. “Okay, thank you Tara, listen when I get home I’ll send you the money I owe you for the spells and readings”

“Actually hon, I did the readings for free, they are my gift to you”

You went to thank her profusely and tell her that wasn’t necessary until…you remembered the last time a stranger had been so kind to you.

The keeper stored all of your books into a paper bag.

"How much do I owe you?" You smile at the man as you reach for the purse in your pocket.

"Thirty" He responded.

"Thirty? for all this?" Your eyebrows furrowed.

"I like to throw in a discount for customers who I like," He gave a cheeky smile.

It was when the keeper of the bookstore who wasn’t actually the keeper of the bookstore gave you a book forged in the flames of hellfire. Of course, there is still no reason as to why the demons had done that. Did Morpheus even ever ask Lucifer about it? But you had no doubt it was with malicious intent, a great big scheme to mess up Morpheus’ realm, you had just been the unlucky soul to have walked into it.

You swallowed. “Thank you, Tara, goodbye” Before hanging up the phone.

With a frustrated growl you threw your phone into your pocket. You wanted to believe everything Tara had said but still your trust was indefinitely wavering after remembering that this could simply be another demon trying to mess with you.

And of course if Tara could be a demon then so could the exorcist. Maybe the mare was actually back; they just wanted you to believe it was Morpheus. The conflict in your mind brought you no closer to a resolve as you ran a frustrated hand through your hair letting out another growl.

It was such a fucking mess.

And you found yourself agitated that you had ever been caught up in whatever game this was in the first place. The mares, Lucifer and Morpheus, all of it.

God, maybe your life might’ve been better if you had just never met him.

There were too many ‘What if’s?’ to the whole situation and you felt a headache coming on as tears bit at your eyes, you threw your head up to the sky casting a gaze on the darkening sky

“Please universe, whatever power you are, if you wish to rule my life so much then please tell me what to do now”

You weren’t expecting an answer though you had surely hoped for one, you didn’t truly believe someone or something was listening to you. That was of course until the park you had been walking in seemed to grow silent and a soft rustle of wind brought a thick, black feather to your feet.

With furrowed eyebrows you bent down to pick it up so you could inspect it further. It was an extremely large feather, a rich midnight silk black. A raven’s feather.

You narrowed your eyes.

Something had answered you.

It was a clear as day answer.

“Fuck it” You sighed, again, wincing your eyes shut as you tiredly rubbed at them.

You looked back down at the feather in your grip and your heart skipped a beat.

You were going to see him again.

You were going to see Morpheus.

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

After the day with Tara you decided to wait yet another week before doing the ritual.

You gave the nightmares one last chance to disappear before that was it. Of course, they did not leave, nor did they change or become any easier.

And so that is why you found yourself on a Friday night sat on the edge of your bed, staring and gripping onto the feather for the last hour, anxiety churning in your stomach. Three letters sat on top of your dining table addressed to Lorna, Veronica and Your Mother. Just in case of the worst.

It would be one time. You decided. One visit. You would simply ask him if it had been him giving you the nightmares. If he says yes, you would give him a piece of your mind which would inevitably end up in more nightmares for you. If he says no, you would say thank you and goodbye. How hard could it be?

But still. Even without the impending doom that might be heading your way from the universe. Were you ready to see him?

I mean you were exes now.

It would be awkward. And painful.

And you knew all too well how scary Morpheus could be had you got on the wrong side of him.

But no. You had faith in him. All those nights, touches and words shared he would not cast you out the second you appeared in his throne room.

Still that didn’t mean he would still love you.

And knowing he didn’t love you anymore would crush you. But this wasn’t about you and him anymore. It was about you figuring out how to get rid of these nightmares, going right back to square one.

With jittery legs you walked over to where the thick red book laid on top of your bookshelf, collecting dust. Slowly your arms reached out, and pulled it off of the fine wooden surface. Your eyes swept over the golden words on the scarlet material. Harshly you swallowed as your thumb gently stroked the cover. ‘Crafted in the very depths of hellfire’

You bit the inside of your cheek as you brought it back to your room. Cracking it open at the same page that was dog tagged. With the ritual inscribed at the bottom.

Shaking your head and letting out a shuddering breath as you felt the nausea grow, you grabbed the feather, your head growing fuzzy as you started to read the words.

“I stand here among the waking world seeking an audience with the God Of Dreams, Prince of Stories, Third child of the endless. I stand here in utter devotion and in utter desperation invoking The King Of Dreams. Speak to me now in tongues of Dreams and Nightmares alike. Let me into your realm and you into mine. Speak to me, Dream of the Endless. Speak to me, Lord Morpheus!”

You gulped, tears piercing at your eyes. “Please Morpheus, hear my call” You whispered after the words were recited.

Slowly you put the book back, setting the feather down trudging to your bathroom to get ready to sleep. You started to feel slightly self conscious. Had you changed since the last time you had seen him? Apart from the shrunken in and heavy eyebags, had your hair grown longer?

Anxiously you climbed into bed half of you praying the ritual had worked. The other half hoped it hadn’t so you wouldn’t have to see him and be hit with the overbearing pain all over again.

Before you could be weighed down with anymore treacherous thoughts, your eyelids fluttered shut as you succumbed to sleep.

[hippolotamus]

Weekend WIP Game

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more).

Tagged by the lovely and talented @welcometololaland @jesuisici33 @wikiangela @daffi-990 @thewolvesof1998 @pirrusstuff @your-catfish-friend Thank you friends 😘

1. WIP List:

Honey when you call my name (Buddie)

you’re where I wanna go (Buddie)

The darkest fairytale (Buddie)

come close (let me be home) (Buddie)

run to the water (and find me there) (Buddie)

With my heart in my lap (Twylexis)

If you like Fashion & Baseball (David/Patrick)

I light the match to taste the heat (Buddie)

printer!Buck (buddie)

Untitled (original work)

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?

you're where I wanna go at 18.7k and no end in sight

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?

Excellent question. I honestly don't know between you're where I wanna go, with my heart in my lap and the original work. Two of them are historical AUs with separated lovers so.... could be a bit

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

TBH whichever one is giving me the least trouble lol Although I've been excited for you're where I wanna go for a really long time (it's over a year in the making) so probably that one. I love researching the details and really leaning into the feels.

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

The Darkest Fairytale because it involves magical elements and I've never written anything like that before.

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

The Darkest Fairytale for the reasons listed above but also the original work. I plan on putting that one out as my first book (!) and that's scary AF.

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why? All of them. Unless I'm doing a super quick prompt I get at least one other person to beta read all my stuff. Extra eyeballs is never a bad thing.

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block? Of course! So I bounce around to whatever's working for me. And if they're all being stubborn I take that as a sign to rest a bit (even if it's frustrating as hell).

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them? Hmmmm, I'm not really sure yet. Of course the original work will be 100% OCs so I guess that one. They don't have names yet, or even that many details. The main character is a recently single woman who has always been attached in some way. So she finally has this chance to figure out what she likes and have a bit of fun. And then she meets a younger woman, they have fun together and it starts to turn into more than just a good time. Our MC gets spooked because she doesn't think she's ready or capable of doing that again just yet. Anway, I think they'll be an interesting dynamic to explore.

10. Which WIP is the sexiest? Honey when you call my name or I light the match. I guess it depends on your definition of sexy? The former explores Buddie after Eddie witnesses the Buck/Lucy kiss in 5x11. The latter explores Buck having a day he needs to get out of his head and Eddie knowing just how to handle that 😉

11. Which WIP is the angstiest? I think you're where I wanna go or with my heart in my lap for different but kinda similar reasons. In both cases the lovers are separated for years and having to deal with that in their own way as they continue to live their lives without their other half.

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)? Maybe just because I'm so partial to it but I'm going to say you're where I wanna go. Also because I'll get to explore the personalities of familiar characters across decades of their lives.

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)? So far come close (let me be home) since it's seen the characters in more detailed locations so far. But honestly I think it'll be a toss up between this one, you're where I wanna go, and with my heart in my lap.

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on? Any of the historical AUs. I need to know that I'm representing the time periods accurately. Even if no one else knows I'll know and it will bother me.

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why? I'm going to guess the smutty ones because they tend to do best generally. I'll want all of them to do well but it will hurt more for the historical ones if they don't. Mostly because I'm most passionate about them and will want everyone to be as excited as I am 🙃

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs? Not yet.

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't? run to the water and the darkest fairytale have the magical elements that I'm not as familiar with. Printer!Buck is going to require a ton of research around old school printing techniques as well.

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour? None of them are particularly humorous but maybe come close (let me be home). It's a Bridgerton AU so there will be a lot of sniping and antagonizing between Buck and Eddie. And Chim will be a heavily featured character so you know he always brings the jokes to any piece.

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process? Not so far, and I'm not sure if I'll explore that at all.

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs. run to the water (and find me there) started as a 'message in a bottle' prompt that was just supposed to be a quick little thing. As I was writing my brain said hey, what if Buck was a merperson??? and it's growing to be a whole lot more (because of course it is).

no pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @stereopticons @giddyupbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @forthewolves @watchyourbuck @ladydorian05 @buddierights @heartshapedvows and anyone else I regularly tag/who wants to play

[acaplaya-musings]

Screw it, have a not-fully-human Voiceplay AU (Part 1)

I'm obviously not the first person to do this, and I very much got inspired by other AUs and fics I've seen floating around (I haven't even read any of the fanfics, but just reading the tags/summaries were enough to get my brain buzzing with ideas). And let's be honest, it's almost natural to imagine at least some of Voiceplay's members as non-human when they're that good, and don't even get me started on some of the videos!

This is mostly just a collection of thoughts/ideas though - I don't plan on turning it into a proper fic or doing art of it or anything like that, but I thought I might as well type it up here anyway, so it's not just stuck bouncing around in my brain. Sticking it under a Read More link because this ended up being kinda long. (And note that this AU is less of a "what if they had powers" AU and more of a "what if a lot of real life stuff was explained by magic / occult forces and the like" AU, though I don't know a great deal about Voiceplay's early days so bear with me).

Geoff: Half-demon, sort of. Not exactly "demon" as in "representative of Hell/linked to Satan", more "demon" as in "innate connections to a part of the Earth far, far below the surface, deep in the mantle, if not deeper". "Half-demon" is about the best description in the English language for him, even when considering many popular works of fantasy and myth

(Yeah I considered a few other options for what Geoff could possibly be, including a half-dragon/dragonborn, but his voice is much too smooth and clear imo to be typically reminiscent of a dragon (other than his growls and vocal fry), and some other people have already referred to him as a demon god/demon lord/etc, so yeah might as well. I'm putting my own spin on it though).

Geoff is still at least partially human, and just human enough that for the first three and a half decades or so of his life, he was able to almost fully suppress the non-human part of himself. Half-demon!Geoff, not fully knowing the meaning or implications of what he was, feared that the ground may one day swallow him up whole; the depths of the earth staking its claim once and for all. He took up pole-vaulting in high school [true], and had aspirations of being a rock tenor [also true] - hitting high notes in songs and soaring over beams many feet in the air made it easier to ignore the faint occasional rumbles from far below the ground that nobody else ever seemed to hear.

(I'll get back to Geoff in a minute, but lets start talking about...)

Layne: Extra-terrestrial being, for sure, though not quite a stereotypical alien per se. In this AU, Layne started off as a vaguely-animal-shaped collection of cells (or the celestial/outer space equivalent anyway) that crash-landed on Earth via a small asteroid and took on the (main/primary) form of a human.

(And just for funsies, let's say that "Layne" was what TV Tropes would call a Line-Of-Sight Alias after seeing a street sign. He was originally "Lane", but someone once stuck a Y in the middle of it while writing it down and he chose to keep it that way).

Layne and Geoff became friends in middle school [true], both sensing there was a notable uniqueness about the other.

I'm a bit hazy on the origins of Voiceplay (or rather, 4:2:Five, as it was first named), it's been a while since I've watched/listened to some of the interviews Geoff has done where he talks a little about it, and I can't be bothered doing too much research/recollection for a random fun AU idea, so I'm playing a little fast and loose with details here.

Layne, now attending high school with Geoff [true I think?] was inspired to create an acapella group [I'm fairly sure it was at least partially his idea but don't @ me] not too long after first learning about them and hearing some examples of acapella performances. The idea that humans could create music without any typical instrumentation and be just as enjoyable (if not more?) as someone singing with a band was fascinating to him, and he was very keen to try it out for himself.

Geoff meanwhile was spending his time learning the oboe [true, iirc], and wasn't fully keen on the idea at first, especially when Layne asked him to be the bass singer for it, but the two were[/are] best friends, and it didn't take too long for Layne to convince him.

Layne started off as the baritone of the group [true], and a beatboxer wasn't added till a little later after the group's inception, after Layne was further inspired by the group Rockapella [also true, except idk who originally had the idea to add a beatboxer (that's why they were called 4:2:Five btw - they started out as basically a barbershop quartet, but then added a fifth member for vocal percussion)]

This is starting to get quite long, even for a Read More imo, so I'm making a separate post for part 2. And yes, Eli will get included as well!