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romanoffsbish · 9 months

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Close Your Eyes; Give us Your Hand

WandaNat x Fem!R

Warnings: Drained / Overworked R | Sad Lovers

When your girlfriends come back from their mission they are met with an unfamiliar feeling of loneliness. You didn’t intend to worry them, but you got used to going through the motions of the cruel world alone and it is apparently up to them to bring you back to a more peaceful reality. | WC: 4,238

Wanda knew something was off when you left this morning, she barely got a kiss on her cheek as you rushed out the door to get to work. Normally you'd cuddle into her as she cooked, eat breakfast with both of them, then you'd rush out so you weren't late. This anxious rush out the door was deeply concerning.

Natasha felt it as she ran into you in the hallway, literally, your rushing body slammed right into her sweaty one, her arms wrapped around you to steady you, but also to offer some comfort. "Everything okay lovebug?" The redhead gazed at her watch, noticing that it hadn't even hit 5am, her concern deepened.

"Sorry Nat," you rushed out, both in speech and from her arms, shocking her a bit. "I'll see you later."

The redhead stood in the hall, a bit bewildered as the usual response to a hug is your body melting. Her once easygoing morning off was now riddled with worry.

"What's up with lovebug?" Wanda sighed as she saw the redhead enter the apartment with a clear frown. "Okay, good, so it's not just me who sees it then..."

——

Natasha shook her head, and approached Wanda to give her a reassuring kiss on her forehead. "Let me go get cleaned up sweetheart, then we can figure it out?"

Wanda nodded, then moved back to the kitchen to finish making the breakfast you'd skipped out on...

Meanwhile, you were clocking into work—early, head hung low from a mix of both exhaustion, and guilt.

Not only have you allowed yourself to be severely overworked, by the kind of boss who doesn't lift so much as a finger, but you're also now lacking in the girlfriend department. They'd been gone on a mission for a month so you'd become so used to just rushing on out, and sleeping alone. A cycle that perpetuates hurt.

Now that you have a minuscule moment to think, you realized that you left the both of them with a frown.

You didn't have time for guilt though, so now your frustrations are heightened, and you wanted to leave, but bills don't stop, so you very well couldn't either.

"Y/N to the front, a party of two is waiting for you."

You looked at your watch and cringed, not only did you have unread messages in your group, "Lovers," but it was way beyond the time in the shift where one should take a break, and you hadn't had one, now it was lunch.

Lately, you'd been working through at least part of your lunches, to ensure your productivity remained proficient (even if capitalism barely benefited you). Working your body down until you're on fumes while hardly profiting is just not beneficial in the long run.

You knew that, but again, the bills never stopped.

Your boss raised a brow in question in your direction, and you simply shrugged, pretending you didn't know what (who) was awaiting you at the front of the store.

Wanda's face lit up at the sight of you, but Natasha's eyes observed you with concern as you were sluggish.

"Hey my loves," you greeted, tone clearly exhausted, but you wore a soft, appreciative smile. "What's up?"

Wanda lifted her arm, showcasing the bag in her hand. "You left without breakfast, so we brought you lunch." You winced at the call out, words at the ready to both defend your rush, and to get out of the current offer.

The natural redhead saw it in your eyes and frowned. Natasha reached for your hand, and tugged you out the door towards a table before you could turn them down. You knew then that there was nothing you could do to skip all of today's breaks, and your body was relieved.

It was frigid outside, even with the sun still shining, so Natasha naturally pulled your body against hers as she sat beside you, and this time you melted into her, making her heart beam with endless joy. Nat kissed your temple, and you snuggled closer. As you cuddled into one, your other girlfriend unpacked her bag.

"I made soup," she slid a bowl in front of you, then ladled some from her tupperware, you eyed it warily. "It's good detka, for your body and in flavor, eat up and maybe there'll be something sweet to follow." Wanda slyly held up a bag of homemade cookies, you smiled as you caught her playful wink, then you moaned, "This is delicious my love!" You shoveled down the spoonful of whatever soup Wanda had made like you hadn't eaten in weeks, and in part, that was true.

TV dinners, vending machine snacks and skipped breakfast was the previous, solo months meal plan.

Wanda knew, you know she did. The soup was packed full of vegetables, from her garden you presumed, but you couldn't taste the undesired flavors as she had added a delightful array of seasonings to mask them. It's not that you don't like vegetables, it's just that you don't like them enough to consume them on your own.

"Thanks detka," Wanda chirped, eyes full of adoration fell on you, but you were too busy eating to notice. The women watched you silently, eyes flitting between your face and the others. They had a mental conversation, one that would require your later input, but for now they just wanted to enjoy the serenity of the moment.

"Are you guys going to eat?" Natasha squeezed your hip as Wanda shook her head. "We already had some, this whole container is for our hardworking detka."

"So eat up krasivaya," Nat purred against your temple, a smirk sent Wanda's way as you squirmed beside her.

You giggled, hiding your face against the redhead's shoulder, stomach suddenly alit with the nerves you usually feel whenever your lovers compliment you.

Everything was feeling lighter, even after less than twenty minutes, the dark cloud above your head had all but disappeared. "Thank you guys, I have been—."

"Y/N to the dock," the speaker crackled, interrupting your moment of calm, and repeating with unnecessary urgency. You nearly groaned, but you put the mask back on as you stood up, and slid your hands down over your uniform, ironing out any wrinkles.

"That wasn't even thirty minutes..." Wanda huffed, you sighed, "From the moment I left the back it counted."

"That can't be legal," Natasha grumbled, but she stood up and pulled you in for a tight embrace. "We'll be at home, waiting for you. Your shift ends at two right?"

You nodded against her chest, and allowed yourself an extra second just to breathe her calming, woodsy scent in before giving her a soft peck and migrating into the embrace of your slightly taller girlfriend. Wanda held you so tight that your tense back actually popped, you groaned into her neck, but it was in clear satisfaction.

When you pulled away you heard a crinkle, and found your pocket was filled with a ziplock bag full of cookies. "Thanks Wands," you leaned in to peck her lips, but her hands trapped you for a moment longer as she deepened the kiss. It had been ages since she last had been able to, and your time constraints need not apply.

Natasha pulled her away from you after a moment, allowing you the chance to head in (against their hearts desire) and they waved you off with loving smiles.

"We are in agreement?" Wanda nodded, kissed her on the cheek, then left the redhead behind to fly home.

Natasha sat in the car they'd driven, listening to an audiobook while eating some of Wanda's cookies; watching, and waiting for you to leave the store.

Three hours later, an hour beyond your shifts end was when she finally caught a glimpse of you. It broke her heart to see your unfiltered face, the mask you wore for them had fallen, and you just looked fragile, like glass.

She would be fixing that...

As soon as your car tore out of the parking lot she got out of hers, the overwhelming sadness became anger, and your boss barely made it two steps out the door. Natasha had not so gently pressed her into the wall to the right of the store where the merchandise trucks sat. Offering privacy, and shielding her public reputation as a reformed Russian assassin turned America's hero.

"For starters, you never saw me," Natasha's voice was clipped, to Amy—the boss, it was all too menacing. It took her less than a second to nod her head. "Good."

"Now, as for my business. Y/N has been being worked too hard, so now, you are going to offer her time off."

"I-I don't have the capability to—," she had stuttered, but Natasha's darkened laugh full of cynicism cut her off, her voice was even deeper now, "You and I both know you can make it happen. Don't play dumb Amy."

"Okay...”

Natasha smiled devilishly, "See, I knew you were smart enough not to test a widow's patience..." she lifted her right hand up, fingers pinched, "It's very thin."

Amy nodded, her throat bobbed as she gulped down her fear to ask the necessary question, "How long?"

"Three months."

"Um, that's a long time, I can maybe do a month..."

"Fair point," Natasha mused, pretending to consider it, but then she cleared her throat and lowly said, "Still not nearly as long as you'll spend begging for mercy for all the damage you've done to our beautiful angel."

"Consider it done," she squeaked, and Natasha winked as she let her go. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Oh, and Amy..." Natasha stopped, then pointed her finger at the slightly trembling woman. "Y/N's not to work beyond the actual limits again. Understood?"

"Mhm..."

Natasha walked away with a triumphant smirk, keys twirled around her fingers as if she had just been on a normal stroll, and hadn't just threatened a civilian. The women's love knew no bounds for you though, so they would break every rule known to man for your sake.

Which is why Wanda was turning your living room into a dream as you both drove back home. Fortunately, with their Avengers salaries, you'd been on the top floor, in the luxurious loft. Your living room alone was the size of the average New York single bed apartment.

With the help of her magic she was able to create a massive fort, giving the nostalgia of childhood to you, but also leaving room for a premium air mattress, the TV, and a table full of your favorite movie snacks. It was nearly perfect, all she needed was you to arrive.

As the heard the keys in the door she made a beeline to cut you off just as soon as you entered, trying to keep the surprise hidden until Natasha returned with the rest of what's meant to be found within. Wanda's lips quirked up as she watched you enter, your shoulders shook as you adjusted to the enveloping warmth that contrasted the outdoors, and you smiled as she took your jacket and beanie off to hang on the racks.

"Welcome home," she hummed, and pulled your still slightly shivering form into her even warmer embrace. "I've run you a bath sweetheart, let's get you relaxed."

You leaned into her instantly, and kissed her throat. "Oh my love," your eyes instantly glossed over in gratitude as you whined, "You didn't have to do that."

Wanda playfully glared at you as she reluctantly pried you off of her body, and asserted why she actually did. "You are stressed and overworked, the actual least I could do is to take care of you detka, which I love."

You allowed her to undress you further, then help you ease into the tub that radiated with a calming warmth. Wanda kissed your forehead, then met your pout with a simple smile as you didn't seem happy watching her leaving. "I'll be back soon, for now this is your time."

"I want it to be us time," you quietly sniffled, and the woman nearly gave into you. "Where's Natty at?"

Then she remembered the plan, reassured you that there would be time to cuddle after you'd spent some time just relaxing a bit, then she was out the door so that there was no room left for you to question her.

Eventually, the women had finished the luxury fort, but they never caught a glimpse of you. Natasha was the one to go check on you as Wanda plated up the rest of the themed snacks she'd made for movie night. When the redhead found you, with your lower body dressed, but your upper nude, and smushed into the mattress she found herself dynamically conflicted.

For starters, you looked too cute to wake up, and also, if you were this tired maybe she should leave you be. Then she realized that wasn't the correct response either, because you would be so upset to find out what was missed— food and cuddles, plus, you still thought that you had work tomorrow morning, but you didn't.

The redhead flipped your body over, and without lust in her eyes she admired your exposed torso. Her eyes fell to the inked reminders of your love, their lips that you'd etched into the skin of your hips. Staking their claim to you, for them, and never wavering in stance. Natasha and Wanda found the concept endearing, and in turn they followed suit, each getting lips stained into their skin; Natasha's were near her heart, on the side over her ribcage, a well kept secret that held purity, and Wanda's were on either wrist, covered by her gloves while on missions, but exposed to her whenever she needed the reminder that her loves are real; true.

After a moment she felt another set of eyes on her, and then there was pajamas snapped onto your body. "Can you carry her without waking her?" Natasha smiled as her partners idea was made obvious, so she nodded then scooped your now dressed form up and out.

Once they made it to the living room the witch held the covers open with tendrils of red while ensuring the front door and windows were locked before joining the both of you underneath the illuminated fabrics. You began to stir in Natasha's hold now that you were sat down on the unfamiliar air mattress, head leaned back against her cushioned chest, her scent strong. "Natty?"

The redhead ran her thumb over the apple of your cheek as she stared down the slope of your nose and chuckled softly as you woke up in an adorable daze. "Yes honey?" The amusement was spurred on as she felt you shiver, it wasn't cold but her voice was raspy.

"Where am I?" Wanda smiled, then leaned closer to whisper in your ear, "Open your eyes and find out."

With a soft wince you did as told, the lights were too bright, forcing you to blink rapidly, but after a moment of adjusting you noted they were actually dim in comparison to the norm. An array of blush pink and off white fairy lights, with clipped polaroids of you and your lovers were strung all around the wall of sheets.

There was an instant quiver to your lip, your body was at a perfect state of rest, yet you felt so overwhelmed. With love, admiration, gratitude and also reprieve. The photos took you down a silent memory lane, from the still of your first date, where Wanda had captured you dancing with Natasha beneath the stars, to the time when you were really sick with Covid, and Wanda was nursing you back to health with her soups and cuddles (even though you obviously protested her proximity).

Nothing could ever keep them away from you, and you knew that they were hurting as you forced them to. It was like a wave of clarity washed over you, and for the first time in so long you felt genuinely relieved. Which was lost on Natasha as you turned into her and cried.

Natasha looked at Wanda in worry, but the witches smile squashed her rising fears. The redhead firmly pulled you closer, and held you as you lightly sobbed into her chest. Wanda's hand gently slipped under your sleep shirt, running up and down your back, nails scratching at your skin as a way to comfort you too.

"It's okay malysh," Natasha whispered as she rocked you, "You are going to be just fine detka, let it all out."

Once your overdue sobs turned to hiccups you moved to sit up, and subsequently pulled from Natasha's grip. The redhead wanted to stop you, but she saw a little bit of determination in your eyes as you turned to face them both so she retracted her hands. "I'm sorry."

Wanda cupped your cheeks, wiped away your tears, then kissed your salty, shimmering lips to shush you.

"Apologies come when you've done something wrong detka," she scolded you softly, "and you haven't. If anyone needs to apologize it's us, you needed us and we weren't here, but I promise that's gonna change.”

You gulped, and your voice trembled, "Change?"

"For the better," Natasha clarified, smiling at you in a way that could only be interpreted as akin to a warm hug. "It's time that we take care of each other better detka, you shouldn't have been able to overwork."

"I-I need to work," you began to defend, but Wanda cut you off with a pained laugh, "You never have to work, because we have it all covered, whatever you need."

Truthfully, you didn't need to work, but you told them you'd hate not having your time filled whenever they are both away, or to leech off of their riches. They were against it at first, telling you that whatever they had was yours to have, but they didn't push the issue then.

Now though, after what they saw today they decided it was time to move forward with a lot of things. Wanda would retire her crown, and be home to tend to your every whim, you would quit your job just after the well earned, fully paid leave. If you persisted that you needed to work, you'd be Natasha's assistant as she would mostly be fielding missions out to others.

"I want to work though, make my own money," you further defended, "I can't buy you gifts with your own money, it wouldn't be right. I need to earn my own."

"Which is fine," Wanda relented with a smile, then Natasha jumped in, "but not for that stupid ass store."

You wanted to fight her on that, because you loved your coworkers but you didn't have it in you to negate the truth to her words. "That I can agree on."

"Good girl," Natasha teased, but Wanda's slap to her shoulder told you there was more important things left to discuss so you turned to her. "I'm retiring the crown detka, and Natty here is taking a massive step back."

Each of your lovers reached forward, grabbing one of your shaky hands and scooted forward to comfort you. They could see your self intrusive thoughts bubbling before Wanda could hear them. "We want to do this."

"I-is it because I'm worrying you into this?"

"No detka, you are seeing this in the wrong light, we want to do this because we hate being away from you. Natasha and I are miserable without you, and it's also time we start working towards the life we all want."

Because, if it was time for progression, then that would come with the overdue wedding bells, and babies cries. Natasha could still be an Avenger, sure, but she wants to be equally as present in your family as you both. It was a surprise to you all those years ago, when she was the one to tell you that was her dream; it wasn't time then, but you all know it is the right time now.

"Really?" Both women placed a kiss to your cheek, and nodded so that you felt their confirmation. Your heart had started flipping within your chest, and you raced out of the fort before either woman could stop you. It was cause for concern, but you were back before they could get up to capture you, with a radiant smile.

"I've been saving up for a long time," you blurted, "It had to be perfect, you know? You guys deserve that."

"Nothing has to be perfect at the expense of your wellbeing detka," Wanda admonished you, but the aura flipped to excitement as Natasha rushed out, "What has to be perfect?!" You giggled, and a surge of impatience pulsed throughout you, causing you to pull the ring box from behind your back and open it.

Inside were three rings, all similar in the fact that they were gold, but each with a uniqueness. On the left of the box sat Natasha's, the band was thicker than the average, crafted with style and missions in mind, but still thin enough to let the oval shaped diamond shine. On the right was Wanda's, the band was thinner, as it suited her preference, with a pear shaped emerald in the center, and tiny diamonds that lined the band.

You found it amusing that no words had to be said, no grand speech, they both just hastily grabbed their own rings to slide onto their finger. Each one whispered a soft yes as they kissed the other's ring cladded finger. You naturally went to slide the simple gold band you'd purchased for yourself, to match theirs, onto yours but Natasha stopped you with a firm grip on your wrist.

"Let us ask," she pleaded, you blinked back your shock, and dropped the band into Wanda's awaiting hand. Who then slipped it onto her chain, you frowned, but then she pulled a box from beneath a pile of snacks and you realized that you were never truly out of sync.

Natasha pulled you back into her lap, and rested her chin on your shoulder, craning her neck she placed a kiss on your warm cheek. "Y/N, you have made us the happiest we've ever been, this world hasn't been kind to us, you either, but somehow you're still so sweet. The darkness never had a grip on your soul like ours."

"Natty..."

"Hush," she chuckled, "I've come to terms with my past detka, as has Wanda, and that's all thanks to you."

Wanda nodded along to Natasha's words, the ring was held up between her fingers as she waited her turn.

"When I found Natasha, it was like I could stand on my own two feet, she taught me how to be a human again," Wanda sniffled, "and then we met you and it was like we could finally breathe—you saved us entirely Y/N."

Natasha helped to lift your frozen arm up from behind, and extended your hand out to Wanda who slid the ring onto your finger. It was still a simple band, but the inside was inscribed, "Y/N—Nash Dom (Our Home)"

The redhead linked your fingers and pulled your hand up to her lips next after Wanda had sealed the deal. You asked them what it said, as you felt the indents of the words against your skin and they both smiled. Natasha whispered the Russian with tenderness, then Wanda offered the translation when your eyes asked.

"I love you both," you declared the obvious, "with my entire heart I promise you that I will never give us up."

"We wouldn't dream of allowing it either," Wanda joked as she crawled forward and kissed your lips, and as she pulled away she sighed away her prior burdens. Natasha and her shared a soft kiss before the witch had returned to her prior pile of pillows, then the redhead turned you to face her and kissed you with a smile.

"We love you too," she whispered the words that didn't even need to be spoken, then she helped Wanda to get your plate prepared so you could all get settled down.

The rest of the night was spent watching movies, eating most of the witches delicious snacks and talking candidly about the dreams you'd all just reconfirmed. It was mostly just Wanda telling you and Natasha all about the wedding of the century, it appeared you two only had to show up—dressed properly and on time.

Wanda consequently fell asleep first, and you appreciated the chance to admire the peace she naturally radiated when she was unconscious.

"Detka," Natasha whispered softly, keen on not waking up the slumbering witch, who was holding onto you tightly from behind, softly snoring into your bare back.

"Yes Natty?" Your warm breath against her collarbone sent shivers down her spine as you turned back to face her, naturally nuzzling closer. "It's okay to rest now."

"I know," you sighed dreamily, "I just want to feel this safety for a bit longer, then I promise to close my eyes." The corner of Natasha's eyes crinkled, and you shared a sweet kiss with her, tempering her need to cry at your endearing words; the assassin with a heart of gold, you would always tease. "You're forever safe here detka..."

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bwabys-scenarios · 1 year

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IM JUST INLOVE WIGH THE WAY U WRITE SHALNARK GAAAHH HES such a CUTIE POOTIE!! 🤞🏽🤞🏽❤️❤️ anyway, I was wondering if you could write some hcs for him as your partner? Sfw and nsfw if you’re up for it, and preferably gender neutral, if not, then afab is fine!!! I hope your day is going well and I just want to say you’re an amazing writer ❤️

Shalnark HCS(SFW+NSFW)

!!REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!!

warnings: creampies, anal, period sex(very short mention), pet names

SFW

-he is the cuddliest mfker ever. like he wants to have you in his lap, his arms, or cuddled up next to him at all times

-loves soft things, so if you have a soft tummy, thighs, boobs, or ass he’s very happy!!

-very mischievous and loves to prank you

-follows you around like a lovesick puppy when he realizes he has feelings for you

-great texter. he’ll be in the middle of a fight and still find time to text you back

-gets annoyed when people take your attention away from him

-has a collection of pictures of you he keeps on his phone to look at when he’s sad/misses you

-struggles to fall asleep without you(will make you call him so he feels like you’re sleeping next to him when he’s gone)

-can’t take anything seriously, and sometimes this can be annoying

-would do anything for you. I mean that

-he’s weirdly in tune with current celebrity gossip. he knows more than you so by a long shot, and sometimes he knows things he definitely shouldn’t…

-can’t stand being away from you for too long. makes him antsy, and as soon as he’s dismissed by chrollo he’s SPRINTING to your apartment

-“lovebug I’m hoomeee~”

-“shal, baby, did you just break in?”

-“the door was locked :(“

-“you could have knocked 😭”

-he’s so silly

NSFW

-he’s up for pretty much anything. Would 100% let you peg him if that’s what you wanted(he’s whipped for you really, and kinky all on his own)

-switch, dom leaning. but he’s very easy to boss around, mostly because he’s putty in your hands

-likes to cum on your face or on your tummy!! usually doesn’t cum inside unless you’re on birth control(he’s not ready for kids lol)

-has fucked you on your period and will do it again

-literally cannot get enough of your pussy. if you’re in his vicinity there’s a good chance he’ll be sneaking up behind you to bend you over and eat you out

-loves anal, but your pussy is his favorite thing to fuck <3

-give him a blowjob and look up at him with your pretty eyes he’ll bust immediately

-call him your good boy or your puppy and he’s on his knees!! those nicknames specifically drive him WILD. he is like a puppy after all, and is hopelessly devoted to you!

-he can be a bit selfish when it comes to sex at first, but improves over time. when he wants to, he can make you cum on his fingers and tongue alone all night long, and other times he’s pushing in without any fore play besides a little bit of rubbing at your clit

-will eat his cum out of you upon request(please ask him)

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coffeeghoulie · 7 months

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got a feeling inside that i can't domesticate

surprise! secret sixth chapter/epilogue of Eternal Heatstroke! (though you don't have to have read that to read this lol)

3.2k of Swiss and Aeon getting their well-earned rest after the end of the Re-Imperatour, with bonus fire ghoul courting rituals, mild miscommunication, and Aether and Dew giving each other Looks about the new lovebugs.

Title from Bishops Knife Trick by Fall Out Boy

this one goes out to @ghuleh-recs, wishing her a very happy birthday!

Aeon's not quite sure what day it is.

They had come home after months and months on the road, the Re-Imperatour done some time ago. Dew had barreled off of the bus, nearly tackling a waiting Aether to the ground, Sunny had been successfully tackled by the three other ghoulettes, and Mountain and Rain had greeted their packmates, giving them tight hugs before promptly retreating to the forest and the lake respectively.

Swiss and Aeon had stepped off the bus together, fingers still laced together, heading straight for the ghoul dorms through the marble hallways of the Abbey. The soles of their boots echoed through the empty halls, the clergy and siblings gone to celebrate Papa's return and the end of a successful tour.

"I'm a ghoul of my word, bug," Swiss leaned down to whisper in their good ear. "Straight to bed with us. I'm going to make you the best nest you've ever slept in, I swear to Belial."

Aeon laughed, fishing in their jeans pocket for the key Aether gave them on their very first day Up Top six and a half months ago. "That's not a high bar," they cackled, checking him with their shoulder.

"Still," he grinned. "You wanna grab your bedding from your room or do you just want to use mine?"

They pulled out their key, readjusting the strap of their duffle bag on their shoulder with a shrug. "I'll grab mine too." Swiss lit up, grin sun-bright

The two stopped in front of the plain door that leads to the room Aether had showed them to that first night. Aeon took a moment to fumble with the lock, refusing to let go of Swiss's hand. The door swung open, hinges creaky with months of disuse. The room was just as plain as it was before they left, and Aeon itched to rearrange the furniture, make it a little more theirs now that they were confident that this wasn't a temporary thing.

Reluctantly, Aeon let go of Swiss's hand, but instead of going to their bed, they felt Swiss's gaze on their back as they ducked under their desk, scooping up all of their sheets and blankets and pillows. "Baby," the multighoul said, and Aeon straightened, barely able to see over the pile of bedding in their arms. His tone was devastating, soft and almost sad.

"Yeah?"

"Were you sleeping under your desk?"

Aeon shifted the pile of fabric and took a step back as they took in Swiss's expression. His eyes went soft, but a deep frown lined his face. They cocked their head. "Yeah?"

"Oh, baby," he said again with that same sad tone. "Sweetheart."

"What?" Aeon said, kicking their door shut as they came back to him.

Swiss shook his head, taking a deep breath. "You need help locking up? Or help carrying that?"

"I got it, thanks," they said, shuffling their bedding into one arm as they fit the key in the lock again. They couldn't take Swiss's hand again, but they stood as close as they could to make up for it as they headed down the hall to his room.

Swiss had a much easier time getting his door unlocked, holding it open for Aeon as he ushered them inside. "Just dump those on my bed, alright, baby?"

Aeon nodded, setting the sheets down on his neatly made bed. Without the pile of fabric blocking their view, Aeon took a look at Swiss's room as the multghoul flicked on a string of soft lights, dropping his duffle bag on his desk chair.

It's much more lived in that Aeon's, which made sense, Aeon supposed. He'd been Up Top for far longer than they had. There were shelves of books and records that lined his walls, a guitar not unlike the one he played on tour mounted above his desk. There was a hanging plant near the window, curtains open and letting in the light, illuminating the dust particles floating in the air.

Swiss sighed as he kicked off his boots. "Finally. Home at fucking last."

Aeon carefully followed suit, taking off their own boots and tucking their duffle bag in the corner.

The multighoul opened his dresser, rummaging through it until he hummed victoriously, pulling out two pairs of sweatpants and a pair of shirts. "I'm gonna change and get you a nest made," he said. "If you want to shower, feel free."

Aeon nodded, eyes suddenly incredibly heavy. They wandered over to the wingback chair by the window, curling up against the cushion as Swiss handed them one of the shirts and pairs of pants. They thought about showering, blinking slowly as they felt the soft, worn fabric in their hands. Aeon shook their head, standing and changing into the offered clothes. They smelled like him.

Swiss's lips quirked up in a smile as he quickly changed, turning to arrange his and Aeon's bedding into, as promised, the best nest. He straightened, a satisfied smile on his face. "You wanna shut the curtains for me, baby?" he asked.

They nodded, pulling the black out curtains shut, casting the room in darkness with the exception of the string lights above Swiss's double bed. He settled into the nest, patting the space next to him. "As promised, buggy," he said, teeth glinting as he grinned in the low light.

Aeon returned his grin, crawling into Swiss's nest, plastering themself to his side between him and the wall. The nest was softer than anything Aeon had ever felt before, sinking into a carefully arranged pile of sheets and blankets and pillows. Swiss curled his hands around their biceps, pulling them flush against him.

They let out a little "oof" when their chests collided, both of them staring in silence for a moment before they burst into laughter.

"So," Swiss crooned, nosing at their cheek as they laughed. "Is this the best nest you've ever had or what?"

Aeon's nose crinkled up, cheeks dimpling with their laughter. "Oh yeah," they laughed. "'S really soft." They noticed their words beginning to slur, eyes growing heavy.

"And there's the crash," Swiss said, yawning. He carded his fingers through their hair, Aeon keening at the touch. "Sleep as long as you need."

It's warm, and soft, and now that they'd finally stopped moving, Aeon realized that Swiss was right, drifting off to sleep.

They don't leave the nest for hours. Or it could be days. With the curtains drawn, Aeon's not sure. Sometimes they wake, still held fast against Swiss's form. Their hands settle on the back of his neck, playing with the ends of his locs subconsciously. Sometimes Swiss wakes, and even in their sleep, Aeon can feel his blunt, glamoured fingertips carding through their hair, tracing patterns against their spine.

And sometimes they wake together, only getting up to use the bathroom, to raid the ghoul kitchen for snacks and water, dried fruit and nuts and the single serving bags of Dew's favorite spicy chips, before retreating back to the nest. They'll pay for that particular transgression later, but Aether and Dew's door hasn't opened once since the band returned to the Abbey, so they're not particularly worried.

For now, Aeon lets Swiss keep his word, keeping them in his bed, safe in his nest, and Aeon drinks it up. The smell of him is much stronger here, and Aeon spends long moments with their face buried in his chest, his shirt, his bedding.

"Can you even breathe like that, bug?" Swiss laughs, hand caressing the back of their neck. Aeon doesn't raise their head to answer, mumbling into his chest. Swiss hums, ducking down to press a kiss between their horns, and Aeon chuffs happily, if not half-asleep.

"There we go, sweetheart," he whispers, shifting until he's on his back, Aeon curled up on his broad chest. They chuff again, already slipping back into sleep, their body making up for all of the sleepless nights they spent on the road.

The creak of the door handle startles them awake next. Aeon pushes themself upright, lips peeled back in a terrified snarl as the door pushes open slowly. The sudden movement and noise wakes Swiss, as light from the hallway pools into his room, lighting the dim space.

It barely takes half of a second for Swiss to register the open door, the budding tinge of terror on Aeon's scent, before he's shoving them off of him, sitting up between them and the door. He reaches behind him, fingers curling in the fabric of Aeon's borrowed shirt. A deep growl bubbles up in his chest, and Aeon's never heard him make a sound quite like that.

But Aeon sees the glowing pairs of purple and copper eyes silhouetted by the hall light, and Dew clears his throat as he and Aether look in. "Quit fucking growling, asshole, s'just us," he says, scoffing, even though Aeon can hear the worry seeping through his tone.

Swiss has the wherewithal to at least look sheepish, padding his tail against the mattress. "Sorry," he says, but the tone of his voice says he isn't.

"We just wanted to say hello," Aether says, smiling easily like one of his packmates hadn't just been growling at them. "Haven't seen hide nor hair of either of you in the last three days. Got a glimpse when you came off of the bus, but to be fair, we ran off pretty quick." He chuckles, looking at Dew with a softness in his eyes, an arm around his waist.

Aeon whistles under their breath. They'd been in Swiss's nest for three days.

"We've been out," Swiss says, and Aeon feels how tense he is still, his back against their chest. It's just their packmates, one of whom they've only had a few glimpses of in the last several months. They don't know why he's so worked up. "We went to the kitchen."

"Yeah, to steal my chips," Dew scoffs, but he's laughing as he toes at an abandoned foil package that didn't quite make it to the trash can, but neither of them had been assed to get up and actually throw away.

"Invite yourselves in, why don't you?" Swiss laughs, but he's still tense. Aeon sits up straighter behind him, hooking their chin over his shoulder.

"Hi, Aeth," Aeon says, voice heavy with sleep and, apparently, three whole days' worth of disuse. "Missed you."

Aether grins, opening the curtains, much to Swiss and Aeon's dismay. They both hiss, squinting in the bright afternoon light. "Missed you too, pup. You too, Swiss."

Dew stares as the room brightens, and Aeon watches his mouth fall open, eyes brightening with a disbelief and a delight. "Swiss," the fire ghoul says slowly. "Satanas, you didn't-" He gestures loosely at the nest, where Aeon's light grey sheets mix with the dark burgundy of Swiss's own bedding.

Swiss tenses further, tail wrapping around his own thigh, spade thudding nervously against the meat of it. "Spitfire."

"Aeth, look at his bed," Dew says, and Swiss covers his face with his hands, groaning. "Tell me that's not what I think it is."

Aether turns from opening the window, bringing in a waft of fresh autumn air, and Aeon watches his clever eyes dart back and forth between the nest, Swiss, Dew, over to Aeon, and back again. A grin slowly grows on the older quint's face, baring his gold fang.

"Belial, Swiss," Dew throws his head back, crowing with laughter. "You made them a hearth, didn't know it was that serious!"

"Shut up," Swiss says, muffled into his hands.

Dew ignores him, still laughing. "Waited all of a week to get them into your bed, huh?" He crows. Aether's still grinning at Aeon. "We walked in on a fucking hearth. No wonder you were growling like you were feral, you spent the last three days fucking in a hearth-"

Swiss's head snaps up, growling again. He almost clips the back of his skull against Aeon's horn. "Shut the fuck up, Dewdrop," he snaps, voice rumbling dangerously around the edges of the ghoulish words.

All three of the other ghouls freeze, Aeon squeaking softly under their breath. Swiss hears it, their mouth practically against his ear, and sighs, shoulders slumping as he presses his cheek against their temple. "I'm sorry. Nothing like that happened. We've just been sleeping. Please just drop it."

Dew holds his hands up, palms facing the nest. "Didn't mean to insinuate," he says, still leaning against the doorframe, grinning. "Didn't know you were the hearth type, Swiss."

Swiss grunts, staring at Dew with grit teeth.

"Well, darling," Aether butts in, a similar smug look on his face. "You didn't seem the type either."

"Oh, shut up," Dew rolls his eyes. "It worked on you."

Aeon's eyes dart from ghoul to ghoul, brow furrowed. "Um," they breathe, not exactly liking the way all three of the older ghouls turn to face them. "I don't wanna interrupt, but what do you mean? What's a hearth?"

"Oh, no," Aether breathes. Swiss buries his face in his hands.

"Oh, Lord Below, of course you didn't tell them," Dew laughs. "I'm gonna let Swiss explain this one to you, voidling, seeing as you're in one." The fire ghoul jabs a thumb towards his mate. "This guy didn't know what a hearth was the first time I made him one either."

"Of course I didn't know," Aether argues. "I wasn't raised with fire pack customs."

"Exactly," Dew stresses, leveling a look at Aether. "Neither were they."

Swiss hasn't moved, breathing so shallow that Aeon can't feel it from where they're pressed up against his back. They chirrup, trying to be comforting, but still questioning. Swiss groans, tilts his head back until their cheeks are pressed together. "I'll tell you, bug, but will the two of you leave us alone?"

Dew nods, suddenly incredibly solemn, hand over his chest. "Of course. Aeth?"

Aether nods, stepping closer to the bed to run a hand over Swiss's locs, finger trailing along the ridge of his horn. "I'm glad you're home, spark."

Swiss hums, leaning into Aether's touch for just a moment, flashing him with the brightness of his smile for a second. "Glad to be home too, big guy."

He grins, turning to his fellow quintessence ghoul, running blunt fingers through their hair. "Congratulations on finishing your first tour, pup."

Aeon smiles, not as bright as they would have, the uneasy tension sour on the air, but they press into the touch like a pleased cat. "Thanks, Aeth."

The pair of them step out, Dew flashing Swiss a mischievous grin before shutting the door behind them.

Swiss sighs again, running a hand through his locs, eyes squeezed shut. He shifts until he's sitting straight and cross legged, and Aeon props themself up to sit next to him, their thighs pressed together. "Did Caldera, did she ever make nests? Specifically, did she ever make one for Oasis?"

Aeon cocks their head, curiosity washing over and dampening the sting of their names on his lips. "No," they tell him. "We were moving constantly, didn't have somewhere secure for a nest like that. He'd give her stones all the time, though. He said it was a water ghoul thing."

Swiss's ears pin back to his skull and he tenses again, fingers flexing, hands in his lap. "Shit."

Aeon darts out, grabs one of his hands, seeking contact. He melts, eagerly taking theirs. His thumb traces over the back of their hand, and his eyes track the movement. "Can you tell me what Dew meant?" Aeon breathes. "About it being a fire thing?"

He nods and squeezes their hand.

"We- No," Swiss winces. He starts again. "Fire ghouls come from the coldest circles of the Pits. They're the only ghouls that can survive there, because the fire in them keeps them alive." He rests his other hand over his heart. "But sometimes, in the longest, darkest nights, one fire wouldn't be enough. You could go to sleep fine, and your flame would freeze and go out by morning. So, most fire ghouls tended to sleep together with partners or big family piles."

Aeon listens intently, resting their head on his shoulder. "You said that was something you missed from your birth pack, right?"

Swiss snorts, turning to nose at the crown of their head. He takes a deep breath, letting his eyes shut as their scent hits him. "I did say that. My family was from the City, so we weren't exactly worrying about freezing to death, it was more a comfort thing. But this isn't quite like that."

They wait for Swiss to continue. "What's it like, then?" they ask, yawning.

"A hearth is-" He nuzzles into their hair again, hot breath blowing the strands as he hums. "If you were single, and looking for a partner, you'd offer to build your potential partner a hearth, a nest of your own bedding, to prove you could provide and protect each other's flames. And if they offered their own bedding in return, you had been accepted, and they were interested too. I know I didn't ask, and I asked you for your bedding instead of you offering, but that's what Dew saw. He made a hearth for Aether before he asked him to be his mate."

Aeon cocks their head, sleepily blinking up at him. "It's a mates thing?"

"Yeah," Swiss shuts his eyes and heaves a breath. "It's like a courting nest. I'm sorry, bug. Haven't thought of myself as fire for so long, I didn't realize what I was doing, didn't ask if it was okay. Didn't put a name to what I was doing."

They straighten, shift to look at him dead on. Their hands come up to his face, smoothing over the three day's worth of unshaved stubble. It scratches their palms just right, and Aeon watches the little furrow in his brow smooth out.

"You don't have to apologize," they say, entranced by the shift in the gold of his eyes. "Did you mean it?"

He hums curiously, the little furrow back on his brow. "Did I mean it?"

"Nobody's ever been interested in me like that," they admit in a little voice. Swiss's hands curl around their own, just touching. "Are you? Do you mean it?"

Swiss thinks, and Aeon feels a pit growing in their stomach the longer he doesn't answer.

"Aeon," he says, smoothing his thumbs over the back of their hands. They look up, catching his eye. "Of course I mean it. I love you, bug."

"Then I accept," Aeon says, as easy as breathing. "I want that. I love you too."

He grins, bright and golden, just as warm as the nest they've spent the last half a week in, and Aeon grabs his hands tighter, nose crinkling up in laughter.

"I'm glad we got you, Aeon," Swiss says, smile softening. He kisses their cheek, warm and flushed deep violet.

"I'm glad it was me too," they whisper, leaning forward to shove their face in Swiss's throat.

He embraces them, rubbing up and down their spine, and Swiss's heart jumps when he realizes he can't feel the knobs of their spine. "I hate to say it, lovebug, but we should probably go have something real to eat, see the others."

Aeon whines, but their stomach chooses that moment to growl, and both ghouls burst into laughter at the timing. They stand, begrudgingly leaving the warmth of their hearth to rejoin the rest of their pack.

#happy birthday liss!! <3 #will i ever write anything that isn't sickly sweet #the world may never know #dot's writing #eternal heatstroke #swiss ghoul #aeon ghoul #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #swiss/aeon #phantom ghoul #swiss/phantom #< for tagging purposes

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portaltothevoid · 7 months

Text

you're losing me part xiii

ao3 link

warnings: so much angst, tears, smut; fingering, hand job, thigh riding, quickie, little bit of a spit kink, p in v, rough sex, squirting, semi-public sex, (kind of accidental?) voyeurism, cum eating, weed use! smoking with papa!

word count: 11.3k (longest chapter yet!)

Hidden amongst the halls of the Ministry was a place where you would go for solitude. Not many people had reason to pass by here since the rooms in this wing of the top floor were mostly unoccupied. Centered in the hallway, overlooking the bustling grounds below, sat one of the many giant picture windows with a ledge just big enough for you to comfortably sit. You’d been curled up here for a while now, avoiding people.

You’d managed to evade Copia over the past couple days. He was busy with not-so-secret meetings to prepare him to be the substitute Papa while you had been busy bonding with Phantom and the other Ghouls. They gave you comfort you didn’t even know you needed and felt like you had the family you always wanted. It was only a matter of time before your worries and stresses came back knocking, demanding your attention.

Today was his last show. You couldn’t stop thinking about him as much as you tried not to. Your thoughts clung to him like a magnet on a fridge.

Your head had been resting on your knees, but as your mind circled the drain again and again, you leaned your head back with a groan. Even if you could do something, your hands were tied. You let your leg opposite the window slip down to touch the floor as you anxiously started to move it. Resting your temple on the cold glass, you tried to focus on the scene below you. Siblings and Ghouls alike were out for afternoon strolls, on their way into town for a night of fun, helping Primo tend his greenhouses… You chewed on your lip as you felt like a princess stuck in her tower.

Lost in your pity party, you blocked out any and all sounds, missing the sound of footsteps that had become more and more familiar to you. It wasn’t until you felt a warm arm wrap around your calf and a head nuzzle into you near the bend at your knee, did you pull yourself from the inner workings of your mind to see Phantom curling up to you.

“You’re so sad, Tater Tot,” he pouted. You really couldn’t stand the formality of being referred to as Your Eminence, so you asked the Ghouls to come up with something. You’d been munching on tater tots (for the second time that day) and after saying something sassy, Swiss responded with “Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Tater Tot!” After squeals from Cumulus and Sunshine, you’d been bestowed a Ghoulish nickname of your very own.

No matter how deeply you sighed, it did nothing to relieve the crushing sorrow that had been currently placed on your chest. You longed to feel excited for what was to come, but the only thing you really allowed yourself to acknowledge was the dread of the unknown, of living a life you didn’t want, but need to for the “greater good.” You haven’t even ascended and already you were sick of it.

“There are ways to keep things in these halls a secret if both parties are willing. There’s nothing that says you can’t have it all. You just have to be very clever and cunning about it.” And then of course, Secondo’s words kept echoing in your mind.

“I’m sorry, lovebug,” you sighed as you dropped your arm to rub his back. “Is it… is it really affecting you?”

You felt his shoulder rise and drop before he shook his head. “It’s a bit distracting, but only because I don’t know how to help.”

“There’s nothing you can really do… I don’t even think there’s anything I can do.”

“Do you… wanna talk about it? I was told about the prophecy before I was summoned for you, but it’s all… it gets confusing to keep up with everything.” You could tell by the way his eyes crinkled behind his silver mask that he was looking at you shyly.

“The more I try to not think about Terzo, the more I do. I wish I could still hate him. That would make things so much easier,” you lamented as your head fell back against the cold marble behind you. “I just… I get this sick feeling in my gut when I think about what they’re doing. I think… I think this is why Terzo tried to bring about the prophecy the way he did, behind everyone’s backs? The more I think about everything in retrospect, the more I see power wasn’t what he necessarily wanted, but he did want to keep it away from those that don’t deserve it. He thought I would be able to… I don’t know, rise up quicker than I did to stop that? I just see what’s happening now… With how Sister Imperator is controlling everything, to how Copia’s changing slowly but surely… They say I have freewill, but I don’t think I do.”

Phantom nodded. “The greatest sacrifices are always greatly rewarded.”

You blinked, shocked by this sudden sage advice. “Wh-what?”

He chuckled. “Didn’t expect me to be so wise, huh? That’s a message from Lady Lilith. I was told I would give it to you when the time was right. You have power and you have intuition. You’ll know what to do. The only people you need to trust are Lucifer, Lilith, and yourself.”

“You have a wise Ghoul,” a voice sounded from across the hall, making both you and Phantom jump. As your heads whipped across to see the owner of the voice, you saw a very dapper man in a white suit with flowling silver hair and glowing red eyes. He was smirking at you. His shoulders moved in such a way that you knew he was silently laughing to himself, having scared you.

Phantom scrambled to kneel in front of the man, bowing his head. “Oh, please, we needn’t be so formal right now,” he smiled as he waved away the Ghouls actions. “You’ve been questioning your freewill a lot, haven’t you, my child?”

Your mouth hung open slightly as you turned your body to fully face the man and that was when the realization hit you like a well-aimed kickball in gym class. “Lord Lucifer,” you breathed.

He nodded as he pushed himself off the wall. “I planned on visiting you a bit later, but even the most vital members of my flock need unprompted guidance sometimes,” he spoke smoothly as he sauntered towards you.

“I’m so afraid of making the wrong choice. I want to put the flock first, and myself last, but I don’t want to lose… everything in the process.” Your words spilled out in a panicked rush.

He paused to look at you thoughtfully. “Everything? Care to be more specific?”

“I mean like…” Your shame, or maybe even your guilt, made you avert your eyes, looking at the floor and away from the Ministry’s patron deity that stood before you. Sucking in a shallow breath, “I don’t want to lose myself,” you revealed meekly.

Now standing in front of you, he put his hand on your heart. The heat that radiated from it, you swore it would burst into flames at any moment. When you pulled your gaze from the floor and brought it up to his blazing irises, he was nodding. “Yes, you are being guided to make a certain choice. There are many reasons for that. Reasons you will not know for some time and reasons I cannot tell you right now. But trust. Confido fidei (trust faith). No one knows what is to come after the choice is made, not yet. There are much bigger things planned. Continue on the path you’re on. Don’t fear it. You are why we will be able to achieve more during this lifetime than ever before. Let them think they hold the power. Let them believe they have control. Soon you will see, my dear child. And you will laugh in their faces when they realize how they underestimated you. Both of you.” He leaned forward to gently kiss the top of your head.

Your eyes fluttered shut and when you opened them, you weren’t sitting on a windowsill at the abbey. You were on a couch. Phantom was still at your feet. Faint music could be heard surrounding you. In your shocked daze, you finally were able to listen closely enough to make out what you were hearing: Mummy Dust. That was the song being played.

Lucifer had transported you to the show. Terzo’s final show.

You were quite literally pulled out of your stupor when Phantom excitedly tugged at your arm, dragging you out into a hallway. “Phantom, wait! What if someone sees us!?”

He kept walking as he turned to look back at you. “You named me Phantom for a reason. No one’s gonna see us! Come on, I wanna see Papa!”

Generally, the Ghouls bestowed upon the highest members of the clergy were almost always quintessence ones. Their abilities of teleportation and invisibility were used for safety. So, naturally of course, with you being on a fated course to be Lilith’s mortal representative of sorts, that was the element of your Ghoul.

As the two of you meandered through the halls to get onto the floor to watch the show from front of house, you couldn’t help but ponder over why Lucifer put you here, why He wanted you to be here. Just when you thought you figured out your fate, more facets appeared. Clearly, there was more to the ascension than anyone had begun to realize.

When you both finally found a spot to watch the remainder of the show, Phantom bent down and patted his shoulders. With a chuckle and a shake of your head, you climbed on, gaining an unobstructed view over the crowd in front of you just as another song started. The second the first chorus began, it was like Terzo had zeroed in on you.

The world is on fire.

His gaze, in particular his piercing white eye, which stood out amidst the man-made fog that clung to the stage, seemed to be looking right through you. Well, technically speaking he was since you were supposed to be invisible. Your body was supposed to be invisible. Not your essence, your presence. Even while focused on performing, perhaps it was merely subconsciously, he could feel you were there. Undoubtedly, there was a deep connection between the two of you, and neither had even begun to scratch the surface of it. Yet.

And you are here to stay and burn with me.

He outstretched his hand like he was reaching for you, just you. Absent-mindedly, you did the same. Two moths drawn to the same flame. An unspeakable nexus between you and him.

He tore his eyes away from yours to continue with the performance of one of your favorite songs. You thanked and praised Lucifer for bringing you here. Being able to experience this, one last time… A gift you didn’t even know you desperately needed. Even during most of the encore song, you were able to enjoy yourself. But reality slapped you like a brick to the face once you remembered why you were here.

“Come on, sing it a little bit louder!” Terzo encouraged the crowd.

Your whole body tensed. He had no idea, even still. The crowd barely even reacted, but you saw them. Two burly men from a stage right door walked out, grabbing Terzo by the arms off the amp he was standing on. “Che cazzo! Ma che cazzo fate (What the fuck! What the fuck are you doing)?!” he shouted before the mic fell to the stage.

You could feel the panic rising from the Ghouls on stage. Aether tried to run after Terzo. When you noted more movement from the same side of the stage where the two goons came out of. This time, there were three. Two similarly dressed guard-looking types and a frail old man in white Papal regalia. Fury began to burn inside you. One of the men was carting an oxygen tank.

Nihil. Papa fucking Nihil. Of course, Sister would have sent him here for this. You had seen enough.

After rapidly tapping on Phantom, he put you down. “We have to get to Terzo. Now,” you commanded. Before you could even take a step, you felt Phantom’s hand wrap around yours and the next thing you knew you were in the same room as before.

He won’t be able to see us until I know it’s safe. Phantom informed you telepathically while Terzo was pacing around the room. Omega was here too. He looked in your direction, but didn’t react when Terzo shouted, “Ho bisogno di risposte, Omega (I need answers)!”

You sighed angrily as you broke free from Phantom’s grasp. “Terzo,” you started to say as you rushed towards him. You stopped when he yelped like a scared puppy, since to him, you appeared out of thin air.

“Che cazzo, amore! What– Why are you– How did you–?” he stuttered, tripping over his words.

“Um… Lucifer brought, or well, put us here,” you said hesitantly and almost bashfully.

“Lu— Lucifer?!” he stuttered again, still in shock as his adrenaline was on overdrive. “You saw Lucifer?”

“Yeah, but we have to talk about that later.” You stepped towards him, your hands outstretched to take hold of his arms. He stepped forward, meeting you in the middle. Gravitating towards the other like magnets, you held each other's arms just above the other’s elbow. “They’re officially revoking your title as Papa. That’s why you were pulled off stage. It’s… I don’t know what’s going on beyond that, but Terzo, they’re up to something. It’s not good, whatever it is. They did it this way because it’s for whatever’s next for the Ghost Proje–”

“You knew…” he breathed, his lips barely even moving. As if he touched hot iron, he took his hands away from you and stepped back a couple paces. “You knew and you didn’t… tell me?” he said, slightly more audible, but not any less hurt.

“Yeah, and it’s real shitty to be left in the dark, isn’t it? Look, we don’t have time for this! We need to get out of here!”

“And how do you think we do that, hm? I’m sure they’ll let us both walk right out the front fucking door!” he snapped.

You rolled your eyes. “There are two quintessence Ghouls here? We need to get back to the Ministry,” you said forcefully as you walked over to grab Phantom’s hand and dragged him over with you as you grabbed Omega’s.

“But Imperator forbade us from using unsanctioned teleportation…” Omega warned.

Your head whipped towards the towering Ghoul. Your eyes turned blacker than his outfit. “Aw, ‘but Imperator forbade us,’” you droned, mocking Omega, before shouting, “I don’t give a fuck what Imperator allows. Who allowed you the ability to talk? Me. Now grab Terzo and get us back to the fucking Minstry!”

Omega nodded in panic. Both he and Phantom lunged at Terzo, wrapping their hands around his forearms. “Che–” he started to say, but before he got the next word out, they were already standing outside of the main entrance to the Ministry.

“ –Cazz-UGH!” Terzo finished his sentence by turning and throwing up into a nearby bush.

You nodded. “Ah, is that why we’re outside and not inside?”

Omega shrugged and nodded. “He’s mostly human still and they don’t take very well… to… sudden teleportation.”

This being your third time teleporting in the past hour and, well, ever… you were unaffected by it. The reality of your life made your stomach flip from Omega’s wording. Just because this had been your everyday life as of late, didn’t mean you had begun to process any of it. You shook your head and let out a breath hoping to expel some rising nerves along with it as you walked over to Terzo, rubbing his back.

He shrugged you off as he stood up and stormed inside.

“Hey!” you called after him, trotting to catch up to his fast pace fueled by anger. When you finally caught up to him, you grabbed his arm and spun him around to face you. Never in all the time that you’ve known him, had you seen such a fury shine through his eyes. “Hey,” you repeated, much softer this time. “I’m on your side.” Your grip loosened and you dragged your hand down his arm til your hand enclosed around his. “I’m on your side,” you repeated, staring into his eyes, and hoping the look on your face conveyed the conviction and sincerity you spoke with.

His body relaxed slightly as his hand tightened confidently around yours before his expression morphed into one of determination. “Then let’s go confront the bitch.”

Together you walked the halls of the Ministry to Sister Imperator’s office, hand in hand, feeling like a more solidified unit than you had in quite some time. You were about to round the last corner that led to the corridor which housed the senior most clergy members' offices, when you gently tugged at his hand, bringing your small group to a halt. You looked at Terzo with worry and sorrow etched into your face.

“We can’t…” You looked down at your joined hands, reluctantly pulling yours back to your side. “We can’t go in there like this.”

“I know,” he agreed quietly.

“I have to pretend– They have to think I’m theirs. Fuck, there’s so much I have to tell you.” Your shoulders sagged as a breath was pushed from your lungs by the weight of everything left unsaid.

“I know, amoruccio. I know.” He placed his hand on the side of your neck, fingers wrapped around towards the back, allowing him to angle your head down. With a half step forward, he leaned his forehead against yours. You held onto his wrist, rubbing your thumb across the back of his still gloved hand. After a few moments, he let go of you. One of his telltale smirks brightened his face. “You really do. You haven’t even introduced me to your Ghoul yet.”

Phantom did a little hop so he was in Terzo’s line of sight and waved to him. You happily rolled your eyes at the Ghoul’s antics. The other two couldn’t help but stifle their laughter.

A calm settled over the four of you. The brief calm turned to sobered reality when the realization of what brought all of you to this moment settled on you like a weighted blanket. “Follow my lead?” you asked Terzo when a sudden plan popped into your head.

“Sempre (always),” he said with a nod, which you returned.

After a deep breath, you shouted, “Goddammit, Terzo!” as you resumed the warpath to Sister Imperator's office. Turning the corner you continued, “This has nothing to do with me! It wasn’t my place to tell you!”

“So, you admit it, you did know! You knew the whole fucking time!” he shouted back, quickly figuring out the scenario you were acting out.

“Aw, see? Being the last to know about something that’s happening to you really fucking hurts, doesn’t it? Gotta love karma!”

“Don’t even go there. This is completely different and you know it. You could have at least given me a heads up!”

“I don’t owe you shit,” you retorted as you stood with your hand on the door knob. “And you know what? I’m sick of you taking your shit out on me. You wanna yell and whine and cry to someone?” You threw the door open. “Fucking have at it!” you concluded, holding the door open and he stormed in.

Sister Imperator’s eyes were round, nearly growing in size as she registered that it was actually Terzo who was bearing the brunt of your aggression and accompanying you as you burst through the door. Copia was in her office, too. Oh, how convenient. He didn’t even try to hide the smug look on his face, especially when you walked over to him and leaned on the arm of the chair he was sitting in. He flashed you a quick smile, a pleasantry which you didn’t return, playing it off due to being too annoyed from the situation at hand.

“Well? Is anyone going to fucking say anything or just sit around and fucking gawk at me?” Terzo huffed, throwing his arms up in the air.

“The show only ended less than an hour ago. How is it that you are already here?” Sister Imperator raised an eyebrow and directed her authoritative gaze at you. “And what were you doing with them?”

“Ghouls, obviously, Sister,” Terzo said condescendingly to the older woman as he rolled his eyes.

Your palms went up in an act of defensive surrender. “Hey, don’t drag me into this. Phantom and I were coming back from a walk outside and poof!” You imitated a sudden burst with your hands. “They just appeared right in front of me.”

“Unsanctioned teleportation is forbidden,” Sister chastised.

Terzo let out a noise that was somewhere between a scoff and a squeak. “For fuck’s sake, with her here,” he waved his whole arm in your direction, “all your rules for the Ghouls are null and void. And I think my Papacy being publicly revoked without any indication whatsoever warrants an emergency teleportation to get some fucking answers!”

With a heavy sigh, she curled her lips in, shaking her head while looking to the ground as if in a silent prayer for strength. “She will not and currently does not have the proper authority to override rules that I set in place until her ascension is complete.”

“Uh, okay, and Ghouls can use their words now because of me, but sure, yeah. What authority do I have?” You rolled your eyes now. “Omega, I think you did a fine job taking care of the human you are bound to in his time of distress.”

“Thank you, Your Eminence,” Omega acknowledged aloud with a nod, which earned them an ice-cold glare from Sister Imperator.

“Well, would you look at that…” you mumbled indignantly, while shooting Imperator a look that said ‘told you so.’

Copia even let out a short burst of laughter at your defiance, especially when Terzo shot you a look, which he took to be one of frustration for being ignored. You, on the other hand, knew it was more of a warning. You had to tread lightly.

“Enough.” Sister Imperator briefly pinched the bridge of her nose as she collected her thoughts and quieted her frustration, before she turned her attention to Terzo. “Your album cycle is over now. Therefore, publicly, we need a fresh and younger face to represent our Ministry. We need to redirect the path you were leading us down.”

“A path that led us to our first appearance on American television and a Grammy, but yes, what a sordid path that was. Let’s change course!” Terzo interjected snarkily.

“Somewhere along the way you lost the seriousness of our teachings. Quite frankly, you were too goofy. For me, the kazoo was the last straw along with your blasé attitude.”

“Don’t insult my kazoo finesse! It is more difficult than it looks.” You had to suppress a giggle that wanted to escape, so you bit down hard on your lip. Memories of Terzo and his kazoo flooded your mind, but now wasn’t the time to reminisce. So, you shook your head, trying to dispel them. Luckily the simple action just made you look as tired as Sister Imperator was of Terzo’s antics and flare for the dramatics.

After another heavy sigh, Sister continued, “With the ascension looming, it is the perfect time for the transition. Copia will become our new Fidei Defensor (Defender of the Faith) of sorts.”

You let out another scoff. “So what does that make me? Anne Boelyn?” You dropped your voice to grumble agitatedly to yourself, “Maybe this is a fucking monarchy…”

Copia reached over to pat your leg. “No, cara mia. I’ll always choose to work through our issues, not behead you.” He quietly laughed at his own joke, but really it was more of a subtle jab, which he made a point to direct his smirk at Terzo, whose similar dichromatic eyes blazed with fury.

Sister Imperator cleared her throat. “Copia is not officially recognized as being a part of the bloodline, and with Papa Nihil still being alive, he will appoint Copia who will take over leading the Ministry for the time being, seeing as how he is our current most senior clergy member. I already have preparations being made to inform the audience of the Ghost project of the news.”

“Thank you, Sister,” Copia said with a nod and held out his fist for a fist bump, but when he just stared at his hand, he just knocked twice on the desk with his knuckle.

“So that’s it. I’m thrown away like yesterday’s newspaper and replaced with… him?”

“Terzo, you will always be our Third Papa. We could not have gotten where we are today without your…” she paused for a moment, clearing her throat, “without you. We still hold you in the highest regard and with the utmost respect,” she smiled warmly at the now-former Papa, but still, the smile seemed forced. She was acting like the head of HR letting a star employee go due to budget cuts: formal and fake.

“Now, we need to focus on the upcoming rituals,” she continued with her commanding, all-business tone in an effort to steer the subject away from the Papacy before Terzo had even more of a meltdown. “Tomorrow evening, each of you will pledge yourselves to your patron deities. Our star of the show will be pledging herself to Lilith, of course. As for you two,” her eyes darted between Terzo and Copia, almost hesitantly testing the waters as if putting the two of them together in the same sentence would set off some kind of chain reaction, “your deity will present themselves to you. They will offer you all guidance for the final ritual. The following day, you will meet with our High Priestess to receive a tarot reading for clarity on the next phase of your journeys. This isn’t a requirement for the ascension, but any and all wisdom should be welcomed. Through tomorrow’s ritual, our soon to be Papessa Electus Prima will provide us with insight for the ascension itself. We have knowledge of the basics, but more intricate details have to be divinely provided so as to preserve its sacredness. Now that we are all on the same page, please get the hell out of my office.”

“Okie dokie, thank you. Thank you again, Sister,” Copia said as he slapped his thighs and rose from his seat. He bowed slightly at Imperator who smiled, a warm twinkle in her eye. Quickly that faded when she watched Terzo storm out of the office. You were too busy being concerned about Terzo to even register that Sister Imperator had said what your title will be once the ascension has been completed.

Omega, tell him I’ll find him later tonight. I won’t let him go through this alone. You thought to Terzo’s Ghoul just before he stepped out into the hallway.

You got it, Tater Tot.

Phantom shifted awkwardly, ringing his hands together. Before you could offer him any comfort, you were distracted by Copia’s hand on the small of your back as you stood. Together you walked out of the room. Copia closed the door behind you, but not before turning back and offering a small wave to Sister Imperator. As the three of you started to walk, Copia asked, “Will you be joining me for dinner tonight, or will your company be the Ghouls?”

You couldn’t have planned your alibi better if you tried. “I was going to join the Ghouls for one more night. You know, just to get more acquainted with them.”

“The past few days haven't been enough?” he laughed nervously, but somewhere underneath that you could hear his annoyance.

“I wasn’t supposed to say anything…” Phantom spoke up, “but we have something planned for Her Eminence tonight. Uh, since the Ghost Ghouls will be back, and I haven’t met them yet, um, I would feel a lot better if Tater Tot, um, I mean Her Eminence! I’d feel better if she was there with me.”

“Tater Tot?” Copia’s eyebrow shot up in surprise. “Hm, cute nickname. It suits you.” That nickname was only for your Ghouls to use. It sounded wrong falling from his lips. You caught yourself before you started to ball your fists, so you played it off by waving your hand up to his chest.

“I won’t stay there the whole night, but I don’t know how late I’ll be…” you tried to reassure Copia. You came to a stop as you reached the part of the Ministry where the clergy’s quarters were to the left and the Ghoul den was to the right. Slinking your arms around his waist, you gently started to sway as you put on your cutest smile. “In the morning, I’m all yours.”

Letting out a breath through his nose, he placed his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing them. He leaned down so his forehead was touching yours, causing you to still as you looked into his eyes. “Lucky for you, sono molto paziente (I’m very patient).”

Pushing up on your tiptoes, you kissed him. His hands slid up to gently hold your face between them, allowing him to deepen the kiss. After a few moments, he pulled away. “Are you sure I can’t convince you?” he whispered.

Phantom stepped closed, crouching down between you both so the attention would be diverted to him. “It is a really good surprise. We’d be so sad if we had to wait!”

You shrugged, looking at Phantom and then back to Copia. “Come on, look at those puppy dog eyes. How can I say no?” Both of you chuckled softly. You moved one of your hands up to his face to trace along one of his sideburns. “Duty calls…”

“Sì, sì. I know. I just miss you,” he sighed before he gingerly kissed your forehead, stepping out of the embrace. One corner of his mouth turned upwards into a sly smile, “Tomorrow morning though, you’re mine.”

“All yours…” you said, or technically lied, as you held onto his hand. You needed him to believe that truth. Turning your Ghoul, “Phantom, go ahead without me. I won’t be long. Help them get the surprise set up,” you winked at him. I have to play along, tide him over. Your quick thinking was perfect. You added in your thoughts.

“Okay, don’t take too long… Sodo might come looking for you. You know how impatient he is,” Phantom laughed as he turned to silently glide away towards the Den.

Copia eyed you suspiciously as you turned back to him with a grin so mischievous it rivaled that of a succubus. There was an alcove tucked away nearby. With his hand still in yours you pulled him towards it. “Amore, what are you—?”

“Shhh,” you shushed, putting a finger to his lips, pausing briefly before you slowly dragged it down and then traced his bottom lip. “I know I haven’t been around lately and we don’t have much time now, but maybe I can still make it up to you…” Slowly you trailed your hands down the front of his cassock, until you forcefully grabbed the fabric of his pellegrina. Hastily, you guided him towards you as you spun around, backing yourself into the alcove and up against a wall.

To steady himself, he put one hand against the wall beside your head. The other was tightly holding your hip. Roughly, you pulled him towards you until your bodies were flushed against each other. Your lips crashed into each other’s. The kiss was sloppy and crazed, near manic. He tried to slot his thigh between your legs, but the long fabric of his cassock got in the way. He broke away from you, muttering “Goddammit,” as he started to undo some of the buttons. You bent down to undo the lowest ones, working your way up until you met his hands that trembled from anticipation. Flinging the red fabric behind him, you hooked your fingers in his belt loops to bring him closer to you once again.

He wasted no time sliding your habit up to your hips as your barely concealed core met his leg. Your quiet moan was muffled by your mouth moving against his as you began to grind on his thigh. You never stopped your movements as he breathed out, “What if someone sees us?”

“Then let them see,” you smirked. His eyes searched yours as you saw the carnal, practically animalistic lust finally cloud his eyes. Unceremoniously, your lips crashed against his. You kissed up the side of his face, before dragging your tongue under his sideburn. When your mouth neared his ear, you nipped at his lobe. “Take what you want from me,” you growled.

He pushed you harder into the wall as he used his leg to widen your stance. His left hand took hold of your shoulder, while his right dropped between your legs. With the gusset of your now dampened underwear out of the way, he dragged his leather-covered fingers up and down your folds as his thumb drew circles on your clit.

Tucking your lips around your teeth, you hummed, leaning your head back against the wall. Involuntarily, your hips jutted against his hand, desperately trying to increase the friction.

Suddenly, his movements stopped. You opened your eyes and before you could even whimper, “Eyes. On. Me.” he commanded.

Wrapping your hand around his forearm attached to your shoulder, your eyes locked on his. “Brava ragazza,” he murmured, plunging two fingers inside you. Your nails dug into him as he began to slowly pump his fingers in and out of you. You leaned forward to unbutton and unzip pants, freeing his cock that was screaming for attention. Bringing your hand up to his face, you held out your palm in front of his mouth, which he lewdly licked. When you then cupped your hand under his chin, he spat in it. He hissed as you began to stroke his cock, matching the pace of his curling fingers. If it weren’t for the gloves, you could have seen his knuckles turn white against your shoulder.

When the obscene sounds emanating from your cunt were loud enough for a passerby to easily hear, he abruptly took his fingers out of you. You let go of him as he took himself in his own hand to drag his length up and down your folds before he rubbed the weeping tip against your clit. “Fuck,” you groaned, as you rutted your hips along him, clawing at the back of his neck.

Just when your nails had dug into his flesh almost to the point of drawing blood, he lined himself up and pushed himself inside you until there was no space between his hips and yours. With ease, his length filled you, stretching out your walls almost painfully slow. It took all you had for your legs not to buckle underneath you. Especially when he swiftly increased the pace of his thrusts and drilled into you relentlessly. You could feel your juices start to drip around his cock. That was when you brought your hands to his shoulders, pressing down as you hoisted yourself up to wrap your legs around his waist.

With a grunt, he pushed you further into the wall as you enclosed your arms around his neck. The slight change in angle was everything you needed. Copia moaned into the crook of your neck, before biting your collar bone with a guttural growl. You shut your eyes, feeling the coil so close to snapping. “Diavolessa mia,” he groaned.

My she-devil. She-devil.

Truthfully, you couldn’t decipher if that turned you on or enraged you, but you felt something inside you snap, or rather, come alive. Whatever Infernal gift that lived inside you, now overrode your emotions. It heightened the disdain, the irritation, the hatred you felt for the man who thought this was a depraved act of love. No, for you, this was now just a means to an end. You were using him and the fact he believed the opposite spurred you on with a sadistic glee. Love had no place here with you, only a primal kind of lust.

When you opened your eyes, you knew they were darker than the shadows that shrouded you. Copia couldn’t focus on anything else besides you, but in that moment, you managed to hear soft foot falls, the slight clacking of dress shoes, growing louder as they grew closer. From the ferocity of Copia pounding into you, you could care less about quieting the pants and moans that spilled from your lips. Your volume only increased, partly from the added arousal of being seen and partly to distract Copia from the fact someone would see. You watched as the person came into your line of vision and walked by, looking down at the ground, albeit with a smirk on his face. Slowly his head turned up to give you some sort of kudos for the defiant act of sin you were partaking in.

You were so lost in the haze of an impending orgasm and not able to quickly recognize who exactly just entered your line of sight, who was within earshot. Purposefully, your moans got a bit louder still.

But he would have recognized those sounds anywhere.

The accidental voyeur’s head snapped up, his mismatched eyes met your demonic ones. That look was all it took to send you hurtling over the edge. Instantly, your walls clenched around Copia. The coil didn’t just snap, it shattered. He pulled out of you just in time for your release as your whole body shook, but your eyes never wavered from the man in front of you. With an otherworldly growl, you could feel your juices drain out of you, sounding like someone dropped a glass of water onto the marble floor.

Terzo’s mouth hung at the hinges as he looked to the floor, then back up at you. As he stared into your obsidian eyes, his white eye burned. You could feel it too, like an electric shock. You knew your aftershocks were because of him, because it was Terzo’s gaze that was boring into yours. Any emotion you had been feeling towards Copia was adamantly replaced with this deep feeling of longing for the man in front of you that you couldn’t… that you weren’t supposed to have. Slowly, Terzo pulled himself out of his trance. His face devoid of his Papal paints gave way for the anger and hurt he felt to shine through like a beacon in the night. Having seen more than enough, he retreated.

You barely noticed how Copia had pushed himself inside you again to chase his own release. It was only when he whispered, “I’m close. Cazzo, I’m gonna–” gruffly in your ear, did you pull yourself out of your own trance you had found yourself in. Your eyes returned to normal as you dropped your unsteady legs to the floor and lowered to your knees.

Gazing up at Copia, looming over you as he now stroked himself at a relentless pace, you waited, open mouthed and tongue out. Just the way you knew he wanted you. Mere seconds after he placed the tip of his cock on your tongue, he leaned forward bracing himself again with one hand on the wall. You closed your eyes as you felt the warmth of his cum hit your face and tongue. For the moment, you allowed yourself to imagine it was someone else standing before you. The fantasy was short-lived when you heard nothing but your heaving breaths.

Dutifully, you took him in your mouth, sucking off any of his spend that remained. Swallowing as you stood, his eyes shone with admiration for you. Had it not been for the previous distraction, you would have been proud of yourself, but all you could feel was guilt ripping apart your chest.

No sooner had you removed the back of your hand from your mouth, it was replaced with a hard kiss as Copia held your arms in a vice grip. Any remaining cum on your face, he licked off of you. Again, he rested his forehead atop yours as you both came down from two very different highs. “Grazie,” he said through a breathy chuckle.

“Told you, I wanted to make it up to you,” you remarked with a half smile.

“You sure you won’t be, eh, too worn out for your little Ghoul party?”

“I’ll be fine, don’t you worry.” You weren’t sure who you were reassuring: him or yourself.

Gently, he kissed your forehead, then backed up to tuck himself back in his pants and straighten out his cassock. “‘Til tomorrow morning then, topolina mia.” He started to leave and just as he was about to exit the alcove, he turned just enough for you to see his profile. The way the light hit him made his smirk seem almost sinister. “I understand why you were so enamored with him. We’ll have to do this again sometime, hm? Oh, and, ehm, have fun with your Ghouls… Tater Tot.” You noted the subtle shake of his shoulders as he laughed while he left to return to his quarters.

You froze in place at his words. The hem of your habit barely moved past your hips. Darkness swirled in your eyes like the oncoming of a hurricane’s eye wall after the eye had passed. All you wanted to do was run after him and grab him by the back of his neck and watch his blood stain the white marble underneath you. Your eyes scrunched shut so tightly you could feel the surrounding muscles working overtime. As you focused on breathing in and out slowly, Terzo’s dejected expression flashed through your mind. You had to find him. Seeing you like that… That was the last thing he needed to see today.

After smoothing out your habit and fixing your hair, you started off in the direction you had seen him go. Luckily it was in the same direction as the Ghoul’s Den.

You knew you needed to give him some time and desperately wanted to remove any trace of what just happened, so no sooner had you walked through the threshold of the den, did Cumulus and Sunshine rush right to your side. Aside from the look on your face and your disheveled state, you’re sure they could smell part of what you had just done.

They ushered you to a nearby bathroom that was en suite to one of their rooms. “Oh, honey, what happened? Your emotions don’t match…” Sunshine wondered.

Everything started to pour out of you as the Ghoulettes assisted you getting yourself cleaned up. How you’ve come to despise Copia because of the prophecy and Imperator’s games, how your worry about Terzo somehow called in Lucifer who brought you to him, which brought you to Imperator’s office, which led you to try to satiate Copia with an alcove quickie. Something that was in fact an idea you did actually borrow from your time with Terzo, so Copia’s comment, you knew, was premeditated, only fueling your rage even more. The only reason you even came up with that plan was to get him off your trail, so you could go and see Terzo, but he just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Now the image of his pained and despondent expression was burned into your memory.

“He was here, you know, Papa Terzo,” Cumulus said almost hesitantly. Sunshine nudged her in the ribs, but she waved the other Ghoul off. “He was giving something to Omega. I think it was… It doesn’t matter what it was. He loves you, Tater Tot.”

“I know,” you spoke with a hushed tone, but even that didn’t keep your voice from breaking. “It’s like no matter what we do, we’re destined to hurt each other.”

Sunshine handed her a pair of black pants that were part of their uniform and a matching black button down shirt. The pants fit perfectly, but the shirt was oversized, so you tied it at your waist. You tossed your hair up into a messy bun, allowing your bangs and stray curls to frame your face perfectly.

The Ghoulettes nodded at you in approval. “He won’t hate you for what he saw.”

“I don’t think he could hate you if he tried or if Omega’s life depended on it,” Cumulus said, her eyes sparkling.

You let out a quick breath of a laugh, nodding in agreement. Sunshine put her hand on your shoulder. “Go to him,” she encouraged.

You remembered how he headed back the same direction he had come. It didn’t take long for you to realize that that way, while also leading to the Ghoul’s Den, also led to a side door, which led to a path that went through Primo’s garden. While the path wrapped around the perimeter of the Ministry grounds, not too far off on the outskirts of them was a lone sycamore tree just before the river that was hidden by the neighboring forest.

For whatever reason, despite its majestic beauty, Siblings never frequented this spot. Rarely anyone sought refuge under its branches. Except Terzo. This was his spot. His place for respite from the troubles which plagued him because of his place in the Ministry. It wasn’t long before it became your spot too. In fact, one of the first times he requested your company, alone, he took you there. Whenever you both ended up at that tree, he was always honest. He was vulnerable.

If he was anywhere within the Ministry, that was where you knew you would find him.

The gravel crunched under your shoes as you crossed your arms over your chest in an effort to shield yourself from the crisp, autumn air as the setting sun fell with the temperature. Ahead of you, you could just make out a figure sitting under the sycamore tree. A cloud of smoke drifted away, carried by the wind in front of him. There was a moment you almost smiled. Memories of happier times danced into your mind, but they were quickly squashed by the worry of what you would even say when you did reach him.

Guilt clawed its way into the forefront of your thoughts. You shouldn’t feel guilty for what he saw. Not after what he did to you. Not after you discussed with him the choice you knew you had to make. And yet, there it settled on your conscience like a cinder block. No matter whether you were together or not, it seemed like all you did was hurt each other, sometimes intentionally, sometimes inadvertently. You hated it. All you wanted was for this ordeal to be over. Even if that meant your happiness would be confined to the shadows.

The scent of weed wafted towards you as your footfalls became audible to the man who sat holding a lit joint between his fingers. You didn’t say anything as you sat down next to him, staring ahead at the expanse of nature before you. Wordlessly, he held it out to you, which you took, silently thanking Satan for the mental relief that was moments away. After a couple hits, you went to pass it back, but he just shook his head. It was three quarters of the way gone already, so you took it upon yourself to finish it. Once you snuffed it out, you pulled your knees to your chest, crossing your arms over them for something to rest your chin on.

There were a few beats of silence. Enough time for your lids to feel heavy and your thoughts to quiet slightly. You tried your best to be present in the moment as you listened to the rustling of the dying leaves above you, felt the coolness of the grass underneath you, watched the shadows of the tree dance on the ground in front of you.

“Did you feel something when you realized it was me…?” Terzo asked you, being the first one to break the silence, his voice cautious and barely above a whisper.

“It was like… this jolt of electricity.”

“Hmm. I felt it too. In my eye. The white one. Wonder what it means…”

“Maybe it was because we have this strong connection, I don’t know,” you guessed with a shrug, but then the obviousness of your statement dawned on you both.

Slowly your heads turned toward each other. The two of you erupted into laughter, the most either had laughed in days. Laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe, you pressed against him as you leaned to the side. He pushed back into you. You shifted enough so his leg was against your back as you looked up at him, giggles slowly subsiding. The way he looked down at you, a wistful smile on his face, his eyes shining with an amusement you’d almost forgotten as of late, the way his hair fell away from his face… You’d be lying if you claimed it didn’t make your heart skip a beat.

He closed his eyes, shaking his head, his hair swishing back and forth. “I think you’re onto something, amata mia,” he chuckled.

“You know, I just have this hunch…” you giggled again.

He took one of your hands and laced his fingers through yours, staring off in the distance in front of you as he absentmindedly caressed your thumb with his. He let out a heavy sigh, serving as a reminder for the circumstance of the clandestine meeting.

“I’m sorry you had to… that you saw that…” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze as yours locked on your intertwined hands.

“Why are you sorry? That’s the least I deserve. It’s karma. It’s karma for something I can never atone for.”

“It’s in the past. It fucking sucked but…” Your eyes closed as you tried to expel your melancholia. “I just wish we could stop hurting each other.”

“I don’t think that’s possible anymore, amore.” You looked up at him again to see how he clenched his jaw as he swallowed. “Tell me how your summoning ritual went,” he murmured.

You couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your face. “I went into the trance and there he was. Started out like a black mist and then slowly got more human-shaped. He said Lilith had sent him. He asked me if I wanted to bond with him and the next thing I know I’m, like, jolted back into my body. And then there he was! I ran right over to him and told Secondo to get him a robe, because he shouldn’t be exposed like that while adjusting to mortality.” While recounting the events to Terzo, you were staring up into the tree, but slowly dragged your eyes to him when you heard a giggle. “What’s so funny? How’s that funny? How would you feel if you were zapped out of your Hell home and thrown into… whatever this is!” You glared at him with half-opened eyes as you lazily, yet emphatically waved your hand around.

“It’s just a very ‘you’ thing to do,” he laughed, shaking his head slightly. “We’ve always given a newly summoned Ghoul their space, approach them slowly and with caution. No one’s ever just ran right up to them.”

“Yeah, because most of the clergy treat them as just ‘The Help’ and forget their human side,” you grumbled.

“I don’t treat my Ghouls like that!” Terzo glaring at you defensively.

“I said ‘most of the clergy.’ Not all. Chill, Stoney Tenerone (big softie),” you reassured with a smirk. He just rolled his eyes. “Anyway, now I know why everyone seemed kind of shocked. So, then we did the blood bond. I spoke to him my way, so I guess that’s also why everyone was shocked. We just kind of went and did the thing… silently. And then I grabbed him and we went to the Ghoul Den and got him his outfits. I got to meet more of the Ghouls and I basically spent all my time with them. Which was perfect because I did not want to deal with Copia.” You wrinkled your nose in disgust.

Terzo scoffed. “Trouble in paradise?”

“1.) Fuck you. 2.) It’s far from paradise. And 3.) He pissed me off.” Terzo raised an eyebrow, wordlessly encouraging you to elaborate. “Well, first he casually dropped the bomb that he knew what was happening to you at the final show after we… made up…” You cleared your throat. “He’s starting to get… possessive. Like– like the power is already going to his head…” Your thoughts drifted for just a moment. Quickly you continued before Terzo got a chance to ask you to explain. “Anyway, the next morning, apparently Imperator told him I needed to make an appearance at breakfast. So, of course, that was the last thing I wanted to do. All I wanted to do was sleep. But noooo. Right as I was about to enter, I kind of clammed up and didn’t want to go in. And you know what he fucking said to me?”

“Something stupid?”

“He compared me walking in there and having everyone’s eyes on me because of whatever they think is going on with me as if it were just like the times when I went in there with my head held high when everyone was whispering about what you were doing behind my back.”

“And you didn’t try to kill him for saying that?”

“Not that time. I just showed him who has more power and that it’s not him. I went and sat in your seat at the clergy table.” You beamed at him triumphantly.

He let out a laugh. “I’m sure Imperator loved that.”

“She told me to move and I just flashed her my eyes and was like ‘I think I’ll stay right here,’” You reenacted, showing him how easily you could switch back and forth from your infernal gaze. “Then he tried to order one of my Ghouls to get him breakfast and I shut that down so fast. He tried to make it seem like I was putting on a show because of what was happening to you, but I basically just said how for once people are gossiping about me and what I’m doing and not whose bed I’m in. That shut him up. Then Secondo saved me by helping me with the ritual prep.”

“So when was the time you wanted to kill Copia?”

“Earlier tonight. He’s getting more… I don’t know. I just don’t fucking trust him. First, he called me la sua diavolessa. Then when I… When we were done… He fucking smirked and was like ‘Oh I see why you were so enamoured with him. Let’s do this again. Go have fun with the Ghouls,” and then used the nickname that they call me! As if it was his to use! It’s fucking not. And the way he fucking knew I got the alcove move from you. Like. He’s just trying to upset me at this point.” You let out your frustration with a heavy exhale through your nose. Suddenly as your train of thought veered slightly from the path it was on, your face softened as you looked up at him. “Hey, do you remember when you asked me if I loved him?”

His brows knitted together, unsure of where you were going with this. He only cautiously nodded in response.

“I don’t think I ever did. I thought I did, but… He was just giving me what I needed to fill a void. I needed comfort and somehow he was just always… there.” He brushed hair away from your eyes. It was impossible for him to hide the smirk on his face. “Don’t even say it,” you warned with a light tone.

“Say what? That I was right and you would choose me in the end? No, I’d never say something like that,” he teased. “Wait, you saw Lucifer.”

“Speaking of the end of all this… yeah. He mentioned that and how we need to let this play out, let them underestimate the both of us.”

“The both of us?” he reiterated.

“Phantom said the only ones I need to trust are Lilith and Lucifer. It’s us against them, I guess. I sure as shit will never trust Sister Imperator or Copia for that matter…”

“I never did either. Why do you think I didn’t tell anyone about how I… about what I was–”

“I knew it!” you squealed as you bolted upright and turned to face him. “I finally realized that today. Just before I saw Lucifer. I’m sorry I didn’t–”

“No,” he interrupted sternly. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It doesn’t matter if you understand now or not. I should have trusted that you would understand. I should have told you. I never should have–” He stopped himself from continuing. His intake of breath was shaky at best. “There’s a reason she calls herself Imperator,” he snarled.

“She wants all the control. She… she knows more than she lets on.” Just then, as cliche as it was, a lightbulb went off in your head. “Hey, how did you even think to start looking into the prophecy?”

“Porca puttana!” he growled. “When we first started being intimate, I noticed the mark on your back. I looked up the mark of Lilith, but there was nothing about a prophecy. Until… Our summer holiday. You were in the pool. Sister stood next to me and said something about your birthmark. I responded by saying it was almost as if you had her mark. Within days after getting back, somehow there were texts on my desk that led me to the prophecy. She knew. That bitch fucking knew.”

“She knew you’d get obsessed with it, didn’t she?”

Terzo nodded. “She knew the whole fucking time! Cazzo, and here I was thinking keeping it from everyone was the safe way to do it.”

“How much do you think she knows? How much does Copia know? Fuck. Fuck! Are we still in the dark? Do they know more than us?!” Your voice started to rise with your panic.

Terzo rotated at his torso, putting both hands on your shoulders to turn you towards him. “Listen to me. Lucifer showed himself to you–”

“Yeah and he showed himself to Copia, too. That doesn’t make me–” You cut off Terzo, but he did the same to you.

“Yes, it does. You are special, amata. They chose you.”

Your brows furrowed, realization flashing across your face. With a distant voice, you spoke as if you were trying to convince yourself that these words were true, “He… Lucifer said that it’s because of me they’ll be able to achieve so much…”

“See?” he said in a hushed tone, moving his hands up to cradle your face. His thumbs brushed soothingly along your cheeks. You couldn’t help but let your eyes close as you leaned into his touch. Resting his forehead on yours he continued, “Believe in yourself, like He does, like I do, like I always have.”

Worry pulled at your eyes as you gently pushed him back enough to look at him. “This kind of shit doesn’t come without a price, even I know that. I just have such a horrible feeling this isn’t going to end well. No matter what we do. I don’t think…” your voice cracked, rendering you unable to speak the words that danced on your lips.

“Nothing is going to keep me from you. Niente.” You nodded in agreement as he pushed himself back, turning so his back was against the tree. He widened his legs, “Vieni (come here),” he beckoned.

You maneuvered yourself around, scooting up so that your back was flush against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning his chin on your shoulder. Crossing your arms over his, you intertwined your fingers together.

Out of nowhere, your upper body started to shake from the way you were laughing. After teasingly kissing your neck, he drawled, “What’s so funny, amata?”

You moved your head to the side, craning your neck away from him. “Secondo told me how there are ways to keep this a secret. We just have to both be willing and, uh, I think he said we have to just be clever and cunning about it too.”

“Hmm, davvero (really)?” he murmured, pulling you even closer as he constricted his arms around you while nuzzling into your neck.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in agreement as he started to leave a trail of kisses up the side of your neck. You sighed, turning your head as you leaned back as when he neared your jaw. Bringing your hand up to his face as his lips met yours. When his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, your hand slid behind his head as you let him in. You could feel the vibrations in his chest from his quiet moan against your back after you tethered your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and started to pull.

Swiftly, you broke away from the kiss and turned yourself so you were facing him, knees on either side of his hips, straddling him. You grabbed his face, holding him gently in your hands as you leaned down to kiss him with a higher intensity than before. His hands fisted the linen fabric of your shirt at your waist. It didn’t take long for you to start grinding your hips down and against his, but he let go of your shirt to push back your hips.

It wasn’t until he broke away from the kiss did you fully realize he was stopping you. You eyed him curiously. “What’s… wrong?” you spoke slowly, trying to find your words between the high you still felt and the daze from the kiss.

“Amore,” he looked up at you, his eyes pleading, “we can’t–”

“No, we shouldn’t.” You leaned back in and started to kiss his neck. “Can’t and shouldn’t… are two… different things,” you muttered in between continuous kisses.

His hands moved up your arms to your shoulders where he gently pushed you back again. Your hands slid down to his chest. His eyes were watered down with sadness. He shook his head.

You pushed back to get a better look at him. Your lips parted in disbelief and disappointment. “Why?” you asked, cocking your head to the side. “Is it because of the tree?”

“Wh-what? No? Wait, what kind of spell do you think I cast over this tree?”

“People can’t, ya know, do stuff under it?”

He sighed, shaking his head at you. He wanted his demeanor to remain serious, but he couldn’t help but crack a small smile at you. “No, amore. Wait, how high are you? We’ve ‘done stuff’ here on more than one occasion. It’s not that you can’t lie with another under this tree, but that you can’t lie to another. Very simple misunderstanding I never bothered to correct to ensure Siblings avoided this area… ” he chortled.

“How the hell could I forget?” you giggled as you dropped your head into your palm. “Hey, wait!” you exclaimed, snapping your head up to glare at him. “So, now you don’t want me? What the fuck, Terzo! Who knows if we’ll get this chance again before the ascension or what’s even going to happen after it!?”

“If we go through with this, I’m not… I don’t know if I’ll be able to hide it, to hide from you.”

“Or you just don’t want to be kept a secret. Terzo, you’re gonna have to figure it out if we’re gonna make this work.”

He blinked at you. “Che..?” When it sunk in what you were saying, he moved to get out from under you. You followed suit as he stood up. “No. No! Don’t tell me you’ve had a change of heart.”

“I could– I will never love Copia the way that I love you. Fuck, I can’t even lie to you here! I already told you I never loved Copia, that it was never like that! It was never like what we have!”

“I can’t. I can’t risk losing you.”

“You won’t. I’m willing– I want to make this work. Even if we have to hide it. You’re the one I want, Terzo.”

“I’m the one you want,” he scoffed. “Yeah, you want me, but you won’t fucking choose me!”

“You know why I can’t. I told you already! My hands are tied! I have to see this through the way They want– the way Lucifer wants.”

“I don’t give a fuck what Lucifer wants!” he yelled, throwing his arms up in the air as he moved past you. You were quicker though, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to face you.

“This is bigger than us. Bigger than our relationship,” you said, your jaw clenched as you tried to fight the raging fire that was threatening to consume you from the inside out. “Terzo, I love you. It’s always been you.”

“But you’re his now,” he muttered. He kept his voice low in an attempt to keep it from cracking, but you could hear the tremble that he couldn’t hide.

“He’s the only one that thinks that.” You let go of his arm only to take his hand in yours. “Terzo, please,” you begged.

He moved his arm in a circular motion, breaking free from your hold and took a step away from you. “Don’t. Don’t do this to me,” he warned. His voice cracked as he couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in his eyes.

You stepped towards him, your hand outstretched. He shook his head, hair falling to cover his eyes. A tear cascaded down his cheek. “Don’t,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, before he stormed back towards the Ministry.

Your face dropped as you watched him flee. You couldn’t call out to him; you didn’t know what to say. Any possible word, even his name, died in your throat. Tears now pricked your own eyes. Backing up, you shook your head, and kept going until your back hit the sycamore behind you. Slowly you slid down along the rough bark. Without taking your eyes off his retreating form, he soon blurred from the tears that began to fall in rapid succession. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you broke down.

Suddenly you felt warmth beside you. You looked up to see Phantom putting his arms around you, pulling you close to him. Turning to bury your face in his shirt, you sobbed.

There was no comfort in knowing you would laugh in the face of those who think they hold the power, in knowing that somehow eventually you would be standing beside the one you loved. It didn’t matter that Lucifer himself was the one that told you this information. All of that was in the future, a future so unclear and shrouded in a fog so thick, it might as well be nonexistent. Right now, all you were left with was the overwhelming feeling of your heart breaking, over and over again.

part xii | part xiv

taglist: @beelzebzb @bitchywitchygardener @calitmediondell @copias-juicebox @copiasprincipessa @da-rulah @deetz-ghuleh @discountdemonwarehouse @fishwithtitz @ghostfangirlsweden @ivycasket @justa19 @ladyrevealedofcloak @lurancyvenom @popiaswife @sodoswitchimage @water-ghoulette @zombiesnips-blog

#you’re losing me #the band ghost #papa emeritus iii #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo #terzo x reader #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #terzo x female reader #papa emeritus iii x female reader #the band ghost fanfiction #cardinal copia smut #i'm so sorry if you were rooting for copia

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peterparkersnose · 1 year

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Needy

Part 2 to Give In

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut (f receiving oral), broken leg, pain, depression, anxiety, longing, needy joel, reunion of sorts, cringe nickname from maria, malnutrition, descriptions of not eating and weight loss and physical changes due to that, brief grief

a/n hi i wrote smut. god help me, i hated writing it. i hope you guys like it, i tried to make it somewhat good. this takes place after the first game, or when the series ends. spoilers definitely. the middle where you don’t see ellie and joel for the four years there just living in jackson, right when joel comes back from saving ellie.

summary Y/N gets invited to Jackson by her Aunt Maria

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read time: 12 mins 25 seconds

After a few days you realized Joel wasn’t coming back. The sad realization sink in and really took its toll on you. FEDRA officers came to make sure you weren’t dead in your apartment, and with that made you go back to work.

Same day, over and over again once again. Take care of the babies in the QZ. Watch people get hung in the square. Eat the same, boring, disgusting meal FEDRA gave to you. Live in the empty memories that lingered all over town.

Tess was gone too. You figured they were both dead in a ditch or moved on to something better and bigger than this damn QZ. Part of you wondered if Joel just wanted an out; if he was sick of having you as a responsibility and left because of you. And it ate you alive.

It had been a month. You were still trying to reach your Aunt over the radio, just as Joel had been trying to reach his brother. It’s something the two of you bonded over the last few weeks he was here. Your Aunt Maria was located somewhere out west. You weren’t really sure where, but you knew she was still alive. You felt her spark. Ever since your mom and your uncle died when you were small, she had watched you until she was promised a ‘better life’ somewhere in… Wyoming? Montana? Idaho? You weren’t sure. She left you in the QZ because she thought it would be better for your safety. You were a preteen at the time, and for what it was worth it was probably a better idea than to track across country.

Sitting, scrolling through channels you hopelessly looked for Maria’s signal. She always used the lower frequencies, usually this specific one you were listening to. Just as you were about to click the machine off, you heard it.

“Lovebug?”

You gasped and cheered. Lovebug is what she called you when you were younger, a nickname of sorts.

“Auntie?” you called back, hoping this wasn’t one of your delusions seeping back in. “I’m here!” she called. You could hear a group of people cheering in the back.

She gave you a quick set of coordinates and cut off communication. It was brief and that hurt, but life finally had its purpose back. No more Joel, no more overthinking, no more hurting from how he left you.

You basically crawled towards the gate of Jackson. Unsure if this was even the right place, you hoped your topography skills were as good as you thought they were. From stealing four cars, foraging for gas (which there was barely any of) and walking over three thousand miles, you prayed this place was anything close to heaven. You had avoided getting bitten or scratched, but killing countless infected on the way. At least you would get to see your Aunt one last time.

The people had their guns pointed at you as you expected. “P-please.” you pleaded with your hands up. You were sure to be almost unrecognizable. Hair was greasy and matted, you had lost a significant amount of weight, and your clothes were tattered. Even in the apocalypse you liked to stay neat, but at this point in your journey you had stopped caring.

“Maria—she’s my a-aunt.”

“I’m going to need Maria at the east gate along with a medic. Stat.” a person called through the radio. The doors opened slightly.

“Y/N?” you heard your Aunt cry. You raised your head enough to see her run towards you. She held you in her arms and cried. The medics were weary behind her, letting this sweet family reunion continue.

You hugged her and tried to hold on to her shoulders the best you could. There was something different. Blinking a few times to get the icicles out of your eyelashes that had formed you realized she was pregnant.

“Y-your pregnant?” you asked. She shook her head and smiled. “I have a lot to explain. I’ll come with you to med.”

They had a makeshift stretcher with a thick piece of fabric held together by two refined pieces of wood. A blanket was placed over you as they carried you across this town. From what you could see, you were in heaven. Dead, no longer here. This whole thing was a mirage.

“It’s real, I promise you honey.” Maria assured you. “H-how?”

“I can explain once your stable. You’ve been out in the cold for too long.”

You closed your eyes, praying it wasn’t for the last time.

Awake. Is what you were. You weren’t sure where, or how, but you were awake. It was dark outside. The little log cabin you were in had a curtain hanging to divide you from other stations and medical supplies. You tried to move.

Your leg was stiff. A large groan escaped from you as you tried to move it.

“No,” you heard from your side. A man sat there. He had dark hair that was longer than the usual cut. His thick black mustache sat upon his lip. He had a tanned skin tone and from what you heard, a thick southern accent that reminded you of Joel. What was a southerner doing so far North?

“Try not to move it. You got a small fracture. Nothing serious, but you will be in the boot for a few weeks.”

His eyes darted to the medical walking boot that sat against the wall. “Who are you? Where is Maria?”

He chuckled at your enthusiasm. “I’m Tommy, Maria’s husband.”

It started to click. “Oh,”

Didn’t Joel mention his brothers name was Tommy? Or was it Timmy. You couldn’t remember. A southerner out west, you doubted it was the brother Joel was looking for. God, why are you still thinking about him? Even now, after you nearly died crossing the country? Sneaking out of the QZ? You were ashamed that your first thought after a brush with death was Joel Miller.

“I let her get some rest, she was here all day. It’s a lot of stress you know…”

Tommy was baiting to see if you knew. “For the baby.” you confirmed.

He shook his head. “Crazy, isn’t it?” he said.

Tommy explained Jackson. How it was functional, safe, and everyone was happy. Maria was right, this was heaven. He explained that there wasn’t any availability in Jackson at the moment, but Maria insisted of inviting you after she found out she was pregnant. Tommy explained something about jealousy and families, but it didn’t make sense to you. Apparently he had just gotten some family back, and Maria wanted hers back too. Since there was no availability, you were going to be staying with a girl in her house. Her name was Ellie. She was quite a few years younger than you, but Maria thought your personalities would get along well. You trusted your Aunt’s judgement, but was concerned when you found out you were to be living with a fifteen year old.

“Get some shut eye. I can help you move in tomorrow. It’s gon’ be difficult on that boot.”

It was early morning and Tommy was walking back to his house. Jackson was almost silent, besides for the early birds chirping in the trees and the sounds of the chefs getting ready for breakfast in the nearby mess hall. He stopped in front of Joel’s house and sighed. The large, two story garage behind the house is where Ellie lived, and where you would be staying until they could build you a house. But building a house took time and resources. He prayed that you and Ellie got along. It was either living with Ellie or Joel—Ellie definitely seemed like the safe choice in that situation. Joel wasn’t too friendly to strangers.

Slowly, he entered his own home. Maria was asleep on the couch, cradling her stomach. Tommy watched his beautiful wife for a moment, watching her chest rise and fall. She seemed so peaceful in that moment. Maria was due in a few weeks, and Tommy knew he wouldn’t have the luxury of this for much longer.

“Maria,” he whispered, stroking his hand over her hair and gently waking her up. She jolted awake, like most people did in this world, and was at ease when she found out it was just Tommy.

She put her coat on and grabbed the one she had gotten for you and followed her husband to the medic ward.

“Good morning,” Maria announced, dropping the coat on your stomach. This woke you. Groggily, you looked up at your Aunt with a displeased face. Tommy reached for the boot in the corner. You slowly moved your legs off the bed, groaning in pain. “Are you sure you don’t have anything for the pain?” you gasped. “Not for pain like this, I’m sorry.” Maria assured you. Tommy slowly guided your leg in to the medical boot and tightly strapped it close.

All night you had prepared for the depression that was going to follow with this damned boot. Not being able to move around, depending on others. It hurt too much to start to care about someone else, let alone have them take care of you. You hated to admit it, but this town could be gone within the span of a day.

“Now, you won’t need crutches. Give it a go.” Tommy said, extending his hands to you. They were coarse and dry, and that was a bit off putting to you. The second you put pressure down on your leg it felt like fire was streaming in your veins. Maria noticed your face tense and your hand grip harder on her husbands forearms. You sat back down on the bed, subduing your pain somewhat. “Shit,” Tommy sighed. “Do you think it was worse than we thought? Could the doctor have measured it wrong?” Maria whispered to Tommy. You heard bits and pieces of their conversation after that, but all you could focus on was your leg throbbing.

Ultimately, the two of them decided to get a wheelchair for you to use temporarily and be on strict bed rest. Yay.

“I dunno how I’m supposed to…” Maria said, grunting as she began to lift the handles of your wheelchair. “Don't!” Tommy yelled, stopping his very pregnant wife from potentially harming herself or the baby. “You wait here, lemme get Joel.”

Ice seemed to jolt through your veins when he said that. “Joel?” you asked suddenly in an alarmed tone. Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, he can help us get down the steps.”

You froze as Tommy began to walk away. You looked up at Maria.

“What’s his last name?”

“Miller. He did spend some time in the Boston QZ… maybe you’ll recognize him.”

No no no no, no no no. This cannot be happening. This is a fever dream, you convinced yourself. This isn’t happening. This isn't real.

“You alright?” Maria asked, looking down from behind you. She was concerned at your lack of response. As she asked that, Tommy began to return. And along side him walked the man you had to convince yourself you weren't in love with.

Maybe he wouldn't recognize you.

You had lost a significant amount of weight. You sliced off half of the length of your hair while you made your journey just simply because it was annoying. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize you. You prayed he didn't. Oh god, what if he thought you were the weird stalker girl who followed him here simply because she wanted to be with him? That’s terrifying. Stalkers existed in the fungal world, but you weren't one in the real world.

“This Ellie’s new roommate?”

His voice filled your skin with goosebumps. Not looking up, you kept your eyes glued on your feet in the wheelchair footrests. “Yup, she’s all yours.” Maria said chipperly, giving Joel jurisdiction to the wheelchair handles. Tommy counted down from four as the two men struggled to make a clear way down the wooden steps of the medical ward. Hearing Joel grunt brought back to many explicit memories, it honestly made your core begin to warm. Joel wheeled you all the way to a house. “Your gon’ have to build a ramp,” Tommy teased Joel. Joel sighed, picking up the wheelchair once again in synch with Tommy as they struggled to make sure your wheels didn’t bump the old, cracked wooden stairs of the house.

As they wheeled you inside the house, the two middle aged men were out of breathe.

“You know…” Joel said, catching his breathe by holding on to the side of his wall. “Those damned brick stairs are gonna be hell. If she wants, she’s welcome to my couch until she’s well enough to walk.”

As Tommy spun around your wheelchair, your eyes met with Joel’s for the first time in over five months.

And he recognized you. Oh, he totally recognized you. His facial structure seemed to shift as he realized that the girl he just offered to live on his couch was you.

“Alright,” Tommy said, not realizing what was going on. His smooth voice luckily interrupted the longing look you and Joel were sharing. “I’m gonna go fix you up some breakfast from the mess hall. You good from here?” You nodded your head slowly.

“Don’t bother, I got plenty here.” Joel offered. Your eyes widened, realizing he wanted to get you alone with him. “You sure?” Tommy questioned. “Go find your wife, take her to a nice breakfast.” Joel suggested. Tommy agreed and promptly left the house.

Joel sat in an old recliner across from you. Your finger scratched at the old medical sticker stuck to the wheelchair’s arm.

“How did-” “Are you-”

The two of you let out an embarrassed scoff. “You go,” he offered. “No you-” you insisted. After bantering for a few seconds, Joel broke the awkwardness.

“How did you find me?”

You sighed. So you did come off as the stalker-ish, jealous girl. “It’s not like that, I promise you. M-Maria is my aunt, the one I was trying to find when…”

“When I was searchin’ for Tommy, yeah.” Joel finished your sentence. “She invited me here, gave me coordinates. I didn’t know you were here until five minutes ago, Joel.”

His name sounded weird coming off your lips after filling your head for so many months. Joel let out a sigh of relief. “You look different,”

“Yeah, well two months across country with almost no food and no ammo can change a person.”

He sighed. “And you…?” he asked, gesturing for you to ask your question.

“Are you mad?”

Joel chuckled.

“Your wondering if I’m mad?”

“Well yeah, I mean we didn't necessarily end on good terms.”

“Good terms?” Joel laughed. “I thought about that damned kiss for months, Y/N.”

A smile sparked to your lips, but slowly left when you remembered. Tess.

“And where is Tess? I’m sure she would be happy to see me.”

Joel’s eyes darted to the floor.

“She didn’t make it,” he said bluntly.

Memories flooding back of the good times you and Tess had made you sad. She was gone. The closest thing you had to a friend was Tess.

“Well,” Joel said, breaking the awkward silence. “Would you like some breakfast? Better than those sardines…” You chuckled a bit.

“Will you help me?” you asked, looking now up at Joel. He nodded, reaching out for your hands. He pulled you up, and the wheelchair rolled backwards. As you tried to steady yourself, the movement of the wheelchair put you off and you began to slip. “Shit,” you yelped as your boot hit the floor. Joel them promptly picked you up under the armpits and held you up unnaturally high. Naturally, your good leg wrapped around his waist, as the other one did its best attempt at following your other leg. His hands rested under your butt, one hand grasping on to it. You now looked down at him as he held you. “Giving me flashbacks,” you chuckled, a hand coming to steady yourself on his back. The other hand traveled just below his hairline on his neck. It was within seconds that Joel’s mouth was on yours.

He was eager. He hadn’t been with you for a good seven months. He needed something, even if it was just a taste of you.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling away. “I missed that.”

Your hand had traveled up his head, now grasping his graying hair. Both of your breaths were heavy. “Joel,” you whispered. “Please.”

He nodded and slowly put you down on the couch. Your leg hit the ground with an oompf. He stood in front of you. The bulge in his pants was very prominent.

“May I?” he asked you, coming down to his knees. Joel was never this respectful back in Boston. He would take what he wanted when he wanted, with your consent of course. He never asked for permission because he was always confident that he had it; and he did. Something in him had changed. It was very obvious that it did. You weren't sure if it was Tess’s passing, the brutal crossing of the country, or the argument the two of you had before. But something had definitely changed.

With the confirmation he was granted, he slowly lifted your butt off the sofa to remove your pants. Once your pants were by your thighs he yanked them off. One leg stayed trapped over your boot. There was the Boston Joel coming back, seeping through this new shell of a man he was. Your panties were soaked per usual. “Always so wet for me,” Joel muttered, pushing your stomach back on the couch. He took his middle finger and pushed your panties aside, but also coming back and giving a quick swipe between your folds. A soft moan came from your lips. You adjusted yourself so that you were on full display. Your hips rocked back as Joel wettened his fingers from you. His other hand rested on your thigh, holding it firmly as his thumb made soft circles on your inner thigh, dangerously close. You stirred as he finally inserted two fingers. “J-Joel…” you moaned, clenching around him.

“Just like that,” he said, slowly pumping in and out. “Good girl.”

The praise was almost enough to send you over the wall. He never gave you anything like this back in Boston. It was always to satisfy himself. You feel like this time Joel really, truly cared. He moved his hand from your thigh to your lower back, moving yourself closer to his face. His thumb brushed circles around your clit. “Do you want it?” he asked you. You looked down to his eager eyes. They seemed to melt at the sight of you. You shook your head. “With words…”

Boston Joel’s dominance had returned. “Y-yes.”

“Manners?” he asked, giving another deep circle around your clit. “Please, Joel. Please.”

You knew he liked when you used his name. “Good job,”

His tongue softly darted to your folds. A plethora of slurred swears and moans came from you as he began to eat you out. The sucking and slurping noises were almost pathetic; Joel was so needy. Both of his hands rested on your thighs, tightly holding on. As he took a second to re gain some air, his lips moaned against your clit. That was almost enough to make you cum. He licked his lips, and went back in. This time he could tell you were close. You were already contracting and he could feel the release building up in your core. “Come on baby, beg for it.”

“Let me cum Joel, please! I-I… please!”

He pulled away and kissed your folds. “Since you asked so nicely,”

His tongue seemed to dissolve inside of you as your orgasm began to hit you. “So good, good job baby. Ride it out.” he said, moving away from you. His thumb delved into your clit that made your legs begin to shake. “It’s okay, you got it.” Joel re assured you, holding down your knee on your injured jeg so it wouldn’t hurt. Once you came down from your high, he helped you put your pants back on. Slowly, he helped you get up and pulled your pants back up to your waist.

Holding you in his arms, the two of you stood.

“God, how I missed this.”

“God, how I missed you.”

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @undeniableadrenaline @evyiione @qualitypudding @jmillerswife @mxtokko @randomstory56 @misshoneypaper @sloanexx @jbcalway

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itsyagurlchip · 6 months

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٠ ˚ ※ ๋࣭ ᯓ⚝ ⋆ .˚✰Funky Thoughts٠ ˚ ※ ๋࣭ ᯓ⚝ ⋆ .˚✰

✰⋆⁺warnings: cussing(!) polyamory(!) heavy angst(!) fluff/comfort(!) gn but masc reader(!) reader is tism and sheep coded (!) panic attack(!) uncontrollable suffocation(!) naked but not sexually (!)

✰⋆⁺Shhh not a vent. I just needed something sad. not a vent..i made a playlist for this btw! Again, for those who haven't read my other oneshot, Lovebug is Fizzaroli and Dizzy is Asmodeus. I wanted to give you guys a taste of what it's like to have hair like mines!! I hope you all enjoy<33

✰⋆⁺ Sometimes you don't feel the best. And that's okay, because your favorite two demons are on the way!

'Maybe you should've just kept your mouth shut.'

I thought to myself.

'They're lucky I'm not mentally unstable. I would've torn their fucking faces off.'

I cried silently as I ripped my suit off, throwing it harshly against the pink carpet. I bleated in anger. or was it sadness? Pure animosity for those ignorant, selfish, egotistical, unprofessional little shits started to cloud my mind.

pressure, pressure, pressure.

I swiped away my tears and stomped to the luxurious bathroom. My hooves made hostile clacks across the tile of the flooring, my puffy tail twitching in agitation.

pressure pressure pressure

I grabbed my essentials, a face towel and a body towel, as well as a few candles. I grab the lighter, but my hands are too shaky to use it. I slam it to the ground as the fluid pours against the smashed glass.

pressure pressure pressure

I looked at myself in the giant mirror. How tired my cheekbones looked, the way my fur desperately begged to be taken care of. But worst of all, was my eyes.

I looked so tired. So hopeless, so broken. Why are you letting them do this to you? You don't have to take this? It's not the only job, you deserve better.

That mask was cracking.

snap!

Something inside of me broke. I just couldn't look away from those sad eyes. Next thing i new, I was sobbing. hard.

I couldn't even conceal my noises, because if i did, I would simply be suffocating myself. My head was pounding, my tears falling faster (pretty sure they made a small puddle, how pathetic).

All the while, I still couldn't look away from those things. Those damned pupils. That thing looking at me in the mirror wasn't me. No, it couldn't be. It was too pitiful. Too weak.

My breathing quickened, my body wasn't listening to my thoughts. As of my brain disconnected from reality, I started to shake. Why cant i breathe?

My head was spinning, all of my hidden problems were choking me straight at the throat. Consciously, i knew I was fine. Yet, my body couldn't help but react in such a way to something as small as thoughts.

Disgusting. How miserable. You cant even hold yourself together. How would Dizzy and Lovebug react?

And as soon as I thought that, I heard the door burst open. A smooth voice to still my shaking, cooling metal to chill my burning skin. I still couldn't breath, and streams were still pooling my eyes.

Now i was being rocked slowly, scratchy humming as well as sniffles in between was bringing me to reality.

Just as my eyes were about to roll to the back of my head, my lungs finally registered my plead to breath. I took in as much air in as i could, sputtering and coughing ever so then.

I was able to see through those dreadful dewdrops, I could finally see the two people who give their love to me. After blinking a few times, I could feel that the tears had reached my skin, and were rapidly drying.

"Are you okay now buggabear?" Asmodeus whispered softly, as if his voice would disturb the silence I've created. Too bad his voice is more of a subduing melody. His eyelights looked down upon me in concern, as well as empathy.

I could only nod sheepishly, which is ironic...

Fizzaroli had his arms fully coiled around my fluff, from chest to waist. His eyes were slightly red, with his head stuffed into my neck.

"Don't scare me like that again!" He glared tearfully. "I couldn't tell if you were gasping for air or choking yourself out." He pouted, despite knowing it was out of your control. I chuckled in self depreciation.

I had only now noticed that Dizzy was in his smaller form, carefully floating his hands over my face. I meekly nodded again, and the softness of him and his love reached my cheeks.

"Oh Froggie..." Dizzy sighed, looking down at Fizzy, picked up the two of us. He looked over towards the tub and the broken lighter- or what used to be of it. Now it was tiny shards covered in chemicals, threatening to stab us if we dared placed our feet upon them.

I seemed to remember that i didn't have any clothes on previous as Asmodeus observed the knocked over candles around the tub rim.

"Would you still like to take a bath? Or is that too much for right now?" He asked, shuffling to balance and step over the shards.

"yes... yes please." I replied. I didn't wanna use my voice much. Lovebug unwrapped himself from me, and sat at the end of the tub. He turned the knobs, mixing and spilling in liquid soap for perfect satisfaction.

The bubbles floated upwards in heart shapes, popping when they reached the warm air above.

"Would you like us to stay?" Asmodeus asked.

As I consented, he lowered me into the tub. My wool instantly started soaking up water, bringing it down a few levels.

Soon enough after untensing a bit, Dizzy took my shoulders from behind and massaged them deeply. I couldn't help but relax and let out a few 'mehs' in delight. His fingers ran through the locs and strands of it all, untangling them to some extent.

Looking over, my heavy soaked wool making it hard to move, I looked over at Lovebug, who had a bottle of coconut and shea butter scented soap.

"Y-you guys do know you really don't have to do this for m-me, right?"I spoke, turning back to the bath wall. I then shiver as i fell a plop of thick liquid being moisturized into my head.

"Of course!/We want to though" They both say at the same time, turning to each other then laughing. The continue to scratch at my scalp and push deeply into my shoulders, forcing my tense muscles to ease up immediately.

"We want to take care of you, especially because you're stressed right now." Asdmodeus starts. "But also being our partner means being an extension of ourselves, we have to tend to ourselves after all?"

"Plus, buggabear, you'll get all stinky and sad- we dont wanna leave you like that!" Fizzaroli jested, poking at the top of your head with gloves. "What kind of partners would we be if we didn't do the the bare minimum of taking care of you?" He finished.

I smiled at my partners' words, chuckling at the 'stinky and sad' part.

Having someone to care for me meant a lot for my healing soul. No one ever, not even in the land of living, has someone ever taken care of me like this. Not even myself.

With such love, such delicacy in a way that didn't make you feel small. These two were the change you really really needed.

You were glad you had some form of escape from those funky thoughts.

(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و tags: @kittykittyanon @radicallxser @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl @ziipzeepzop-eez @amorvincitomnia-14 @spongejuice. if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog.

#yagurlchip❤️#yagurl writes #helluva boss #fizzeroli #asmodeus #fizzmodeus #fizzmodeus x reader #helluva boss x reader #angst #comfort #romantic hcs #romantic #asmodeus x reader #fizzarolli x reader #fizzarozzie #fizzarozzie x reader

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istumpysk · 1 year

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

TWOW: Alayne I (Sansa I)

My little lovebug! ❤️

She's finally here! 🥺

To celebrate, I might just copy and paste the whole gosh darn thing. You've been warned.

Ladies and gentlemen, brace yourselves for the mind-blowing, heart-stopping, epic conclusion of Operation Stumpy Re-Read Project!

Before we dive in, we need to revisit a theory that I proposed in Jon X, ADWD.

The last time we saw Jon's and Sansa's points of view in the same book was A Storm of Swords. You might recall the deliberate placement of their back-to-back chapters was anything but subtle.

The text was often copied verbatim, the situations were perfectly mirrored, and the topics of love, marriage, and family were prevalent in both.

You can view a quick summary of it all here.

That brings us to this chapter. Some of you might not be aware, but George was originally planning to put Alayne I in A Dance with Dragons.

That Sansa chapter I talked about finishing, for instance. It's still finished, but my editor and I decided it belongs in THE WINDS OF WINTER, not A DANCE WITH DRAGONS, so it's been moved into the next book. Sansa will not appear in DANCE. - Not a Blog

Based on the intentional placement of previous Jon and Sansa chapters, I have hypothesized that it should be possible to determine the original planned position of this Alayne chapter.

Below, I will do my best to argue Alayne I, TWOW was originally indented to appear directly before Jon X, ADWD.

Alright, it's time!

She was reading her little lord a tale of the Winged Knight when Mya Stone came knocking on the door of his bedchamber, clad in boots and riding leathers and smelling strongly of the stable. Mya had straw in her hair and a scowl on her face. That scowl comes of having Mychel Redfort near, Alayne knew.

I'm so slow, I'm only now picking up on the vague hints of Jon and Sansa's connection from the highborn-lowborn divide between Mya and Mychel Redfort.

She sounded so like Sansa, so happy and innocent with her dreams. Catelyn smiled, but the smile was tinged with sadness. The Redforts were an old name in the Vale, she knew, with the blood of the First Men in their veins. His love she might be, but no Redfort would ever wed a bastard. His family would arrange a more suitable match for him, to a Corbray or a Waynwood or a Royce, or perhaps a daughter of some greater house outside the Vale. - Catelyn VI, AGOT

She even had a king for a dad!

+.+.+

Why did she have to mention Harry? Alayne thought. We will never get Sweetrobin out of bed now. The boy slapped a pillow. "Send them away. I never asked them here." Mya looked nonplussed. No one in the Vale was better at handling a mule, but lordlings were another matter. "They were invited," she said uncertainly, "for the tourney. I don't…" Alayne closed her book. "Thank you, Mya. Let me talk with Lord Robert, if you would."

Oh look, 13-year-old Sansa is acting 24 again, and can I just mention she's absolutely fantastic at managing her son cousin.

+.+.+

"I hate that Harry," Sweetrobin said when she was gone. "He calls me cousin, but he's just waiting for me to die so he can take the Eyrie. He thinks I don't know, but I do." "Your lordship should not believe such nonsense," Alayne said. "I'm sure Ser Harrold loves you well." And if the gods are good, he will love me too. Her tummy gave a little flutter.

Back to 13.

Just like Arya and Mercy, you can still find traces of Sansa in Alayne.

+.+.+

"I don't want you to marry him, Alayne. I am the Lord of the Eyrie, and I forbid it." He sounded as if he were about to cry. "You should marry me instead. We could sleep in the same bed every night, and you could read me stories."

In the future, it might be a good idea to ensure that Jon and Sweetrobin are kept apart at all times.

+.+.+

No man can wed me so long as my dwarf husband still lives somewhere in this world.

I don't know about that.

"Hush, you'll be the death of us. I did nothing. Come, we must away, they'll search for you. Your husband's been arrested."

"Tyrion?" she said, shocked.

"Do you have another husband? The Imp, the dwarf uncle, she thinks he did it." - Sansa V, ASOS

When Her Grace suggested that she would be pleased to help arrange marriages for his sons to the daughters of great southern lords, Lord Stark refused brusquely. "We keep the old gods in the North," he told the queen. "When my boys take a wife, they will wed before a heart tree, not in some southron sept." - Fire & Blood

+.+.+

Alayne stroked his fingers. "There, my Sweetrobin, be still now." When the shaking passed, she said, "You must have a proper wife, a trueborn maid of noble birth." "No. I want to marry you, Alayne." Once your lady mother intended that very thing, but I was trueborn then, and noble.

Trust me, this is less than nothing, we're only warming up. I can do way better than this.

(-> -> -> Jon X?)

"Who brings this woman to be wed?" asked Melisandre.

"I do," said Jon. "Now comes Alys of House Karstark, a woman grown and flowered, of noble blood and birth." - Jon X, ADWD

+.+.+

Alayne smoothed his hair. Lady Lysa had never let the servants touch it, and after she had died Robert had suffered terrible shaking fits whenever anyone came near him with a blade, so it had been allowed to grow until it tumbled over his round shoulders and halfway down his flabby white chest. He does have pretty hair. If the gods are good and he lives long enough to wed, his wife will admire his hair, surely. That much she will love about him.

Mounting evidence that Sansa is plotting to kill Robert Arryn.

Why would he fear a blade?

+.+.+

"The Lord of the Eyrie can do as he likes. Can't I still love you, even if I have to marry her? Ser Harrold has a common woman. Benjicot says she's carrying his bastard." Benjicot should learn to keep his fool's mouth shut.

Lmao.

+.+.+

"Is that what you would have from me? A bastard?" She pulled her fingers from his grasp. "Would you dishonor me that way?" The boy looked stricken. "No. I never meant —" Alayne stood. "If it please my lord, I must go and find my father. Someone needs to greet Lady Waynwood." Before her little lord could find the words to protest, she gave him a quick curtsy and fled the bedchamber [...].

Masterfully done!

This is why I can't have children, I would have locked him in a closet.

+.+.+

When she had left Petyr Baelish that morning he had been breaking his fast with old Oswell who had arrived last night from Gulltown on a lathered horse.

Did you know that the number of references to Oldtown gradually increases from book to book until it surges in A Storm of Swords, right before the city is formally introduced at the beginning of A Feast for Crows?

Gulltown is on a similar trajectory. The city is referenced nine times in this chapter alone. Nine.

+.+.+

Though snow had blanketed the heights of the Giant's Lance above, below the mountain the autumn lingered and winter wheat was ripening in the fields.

For timeline purposes: Sansa is lagging behind where Brienne and Jon currently are in the story.

Snow in the riverlands. If it was snowing here, it could well be snowing on Lannisport as well, and on King's Landing. Winter is marching south, and half our granaries are empty. Any crops still in the fields were doomed. [...] "I know," Jaime said, "there has been a white raven from the Citadel. Winter has come." - Jaime VII, AFFC

+.+.+

Alayne loved it here. She felt alive again, for the first since her father… since Lord Eddard Stark had died.

Stop.

+.+.+

She hoped they might still be talking, but Petyr's solar proved empty. Someone had left a window open and a stack of papers had blown onto the floor. [...] She closed the window, gathered up the fallen papers, and stacked them on the table. One was a list of the competitors. Four-and-sixty knights had been invited to vie for places amongst Lord Robert Arryn's new Brotherhood of Winged Knights, and four and-sixty knights had come to tilt for the right to wear falcon’s wings upon their warhelms and guard their lord.

It is widely speculated she saw something she shouldn't have, but hasn't fully grasped the significance yet.

Did you know there's 64 squares on a chessboard?

+.+.+

The competitors came from all over the Vale, from the mountain valleys and the coast, from Gulltown and the Bloody Gate, even the Three Sisters. Though a few were promised, only three were wed; the eight victors would be expected to spend the next three years at Lord Robert's side, as his own personal guard (Alayne had suggested seven, like the Kingsguard, but Sweetrobin had insisted that he must have more knights than King Tommen), so older men with wives and children had not been invited.

We love a petty king.

so older men with wives and children had not been invited.

Perfect for Blackfish! Where is that former Knight of the Gate? I know he's coming, the ellipsis of truth tells no lies.

And if Ser Brynden should survive this siege, he might be inclined to claim Riverrun in his own name . . . or in the name of young Robert Arryn. - Jaime V, AFFC

Where else is he supposed to go?

Edit:

Oh! @decadelongsummer reminded me that Jaime I, ADWD would have come before this. (<- <- <-)

"Might the Blackfish seek refuge at Raventree?"

"He might seek it, but to find it he'd need to get past my siege lines, and last I heard he hadn't grown wings. [...]" - Jaime I, ADWD

+.+.+

"They're young, eager, hungry for adventure and renown. Lysa would not let them go to war. This is the next best thing. A chance to serve their lord and prove their prowess. They will come. Even Harry the Heir." He had smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. "What a clever daughter you are."

I will turn your liver into paste, and feed it to cats.

+.+.+

"What a clever daughter you are." It was clever.

✨ Clever girl! ✨

Dontos chuckled. "My Jonquil's a clever girl, isn't she?" - Sansa IV, ACOK

"There's a clever girl." He smiled, his thin lips bright red from the pomegranate seeds. - Sansa VI, ASOS

"[...] It was clever of you to see it. Though no more than I'd expect of mine own daughter." - Sansa I, AFFC

Sers, the Lady Alayne, my natural and very clever daughter . . . - Alayne II, AFFC

+.+.+

The tourney, the prizes, the winged knights, it had all been her own notion. Lord Robert's mother had filled him full of fears, but he always took courage from the tales she read him of Ser Artys Arryn, the Winged Knight of legend, founder of his line. Why not surround him with Winged Knights? She had thought one night, after Sweetrobin had finally drifted off to sleep. His own Kingsguard, to keep him safe and make him brave.

Sounds like something a queen might be responsible for planning.

Unreliable narrator Sansa Stark (or George R. R. Martin). Ser Artys Arryn was not the legendary Winged Knight from the Age of Heroes. Two different people.

I don't know if this is important or not, but while reading the history of Ser Artys, a few things stuck out.

Leading the attack was a champion in silvered steel, with a moon-and-falcon on his shield and wings upon his warhelm. Ser Artys Arryn had clad one of his knights retainer in his spare suit of armor, leaving him in camp whilst he himself took his best horsemen up and around a goat track that he remembered from his childhood, so they might reappear behind the First Men and descend on them from above. - The World of Ice and Fire

While fighting King Robar II Royce, Ser Artys used a decoy of himself, while he snuck up and around a goat track that he remembered from his childhood.

What's interesting about that is that Roose Bolton uses a decoy in ADWD, which fools Ramsay.

When the rider in the dark armor removed his helm, however, the face beneath was not one that Reek knew. Ramsay's smile curdled at the sight, and anger flashed across his face. "What is this, some mockery?" - Reek II, ADWD

But what really stands out is the goat tracks. I know a character who has deep appreciation for goat tracks being used during war.

"Goat tracks?" The king's eyes narrowed. "I speak of moving swiftly, and you waste my time with goat tracks?"

"When the Young Dragon conquered Dorne, he used a goat track to bypass the Dornish watchtowers on the Boneway." - Jon IV, ADWD

I don't know. It involved knights from the Vale, so it made me pause.

+.+.+

Lord Nestor was showing Lady Waxley his prize tapestries, with their scenes of hunt and chase. The same panels had once hung in the Red Keep of King's Landing, when Robert sat the Iron Throne. Joffrey had them taken down and they had languished in some cellar until Petyr Baelish arranged for them to be brought to the Vale as a gift for Nestor Royce. Not only were the hangings beautiful, but the High Steward delighted in telling anyone who'd listen that they had once belonged to a king.

It's the conclusion of the most anticlimactic side plot in the entire series.

"Not as yet. In truth, he seems quite unconcerned. His last letter mentions the rebels only briefly before beseeching me to ship him some old tapestries of Robert's." - Cersei IV, AFFC

Petyr laughed. "Perhaps I shall. Or better still, to our sweet Cersei. Though I should not speak harshly of her, she is sending me some splendid tapestries. Isn't that kind of her?" - Alayne I, AFFC

This is nothing. It's only meant to showcase how Littlefinger purchases the loyalty of others.

+.+.+

At the north end of the yard, three quintains had been set up, and some of the competitors were riding at them. Alayne knew them by their shields; the bells of Belmore, green vipers for the Lynderlys, the red sledge of Breakstone, House Tollett’s black and grey pily. Ser Mychel Redfort set one quintain spinning with a perfectly placed blow. He was one of those favored to win wings.

Showing off, as per usual. She's only doing this to make Arya look bad.

+.+.+

"The Lord Protector's daughter," the bald knight announced, all hearty gallantry. He rose ponderously. "And full as lovely as the tales told of her, I see." Not to be outdone, the pimply knight hopped up and said, "Ser Ossifer speaks truly, you are the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms." It might have been a sweeter courtesy had he not addressed it to her chest. "And have you seen all those maids yourself, ser?" Alayne asked him. "You are young to be so widely travelled."

"You are even lovelier than I was told, princess," he declared. "The queen has told me much and more of your beauty."

"How odd, when she has never seen me." - Jon XI, ADWD

+.+.+

Alayne could not help but shutter. Myranda's husband had died when he was making love with her. "Those Sistermen who came in yesterday were gallant," she said, to change the subject. "If you don't like Ser Ossifer or Ser Uther, marry one of them instead. I thought the youngest one was very handsome." "The one in the sealskin cloak?" Randa said, incredulous. "One of his brothers, then." Myranda rolled her eyes. "They're from the Sisters. Did you ever know a Sisterman who could joust? They clean their swords with codfish oil and wash in tubs of cold seawater." “Well,” Alayne said, “at least they're clean.”

"Some of them have webs between their toes. [...]"

Uh huh.

Listen to me. Listen to me.

You know why this is here.

Davos: I:

Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

Remind me, what did we learn in Davos I?

To get home and call his banners, Stark had to cross the mountains to the Fingers and find a fisherman to carry him across the Bite. A storm caught them on the way. The fisherman drowned, but his daughter got Stark to the Sisters before the boat went down.

[...]

Our maester urged us to send Stark's head to Aerys, to prove our loyalty. It would have meant a rich reward.

[...]

That was when Stark said, 'In this world only winter is certain. We may lose our heads, it's true … but what if we prevail?' My father sent him on his way with his head still on his shoulders. 'If you lose,' he told Lord Eddard, 'you were never here.'" - Davos I, ADWD

Right, exactly. Go ahead and remind us of the Three Sisters in a Sansa chapter, George. Nobody can figure out where this is going.

+.+.+

"Some of them have webs between their toes. I'd sooner marry Lord Petyr. Then I'd be your mother. How little is his finger, I ask you?"

Alayne did not dignify that question with an answer.

Totally normal thing you might ask his daughter.

+.+.+

"Is that a promise or a threat?" Myranda said. "The first Lady Waynwood must have been a mare, I think. How else to explain why all the Waynwood men are horse-faced? If I were ever to wed a Waynwood, he would have to swear a vow to don his helm whenever he wished to fuck me, and keep the visor closed." She gave Alayne a pinch on the arm.

Um, I have a theory!

"No," Catelyn agreed. "You must name another heir, until such time as Jeyne gives you a son." She considered a moment. "Your father's father had no siblings, but his father had a sister who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch. They had three daughters, all of whom wed Vale lordlings. A Waynwood and a Corbray, for certain. The youngest . . . it might have been a Templeton, but . . ." - Catelyn V, ASOS

+.+.+

"My Harry will be with them, though. I notice that you left him out. I shall never forgive you for stealing him away from me. He's the boy I want to marry."

"The betrothal was my father's doing," Alayne protested, as she had a hundred times before. She is only teasing, she told herself… but behind the japes, she could hear the hurt.

We can't be certain, but she doesn't give off the same vibes as the other Myranda on the show.

+.+.+

Alayne could not see the front of his shield from where she stood, but his attacker bore three ravens in flight, each clutching a red heart in its claws. Three hearts and three ravens. She knew right then how the fight would end. A few moments later and the big man sprawled dazed in the dust with his helm askew. When his squire undid the fastenings to bare his head, there was blood trickling down his scalp. If the swords had not been blunted, there would be brains as well. That last head blow had been so hard Alayne had winced in sympathy when it fell. Myranda Royce considered the victor thoughtfully. "Do you think if I asked nicely Ser Lyn would kill my suitors for me?" "He might, for a plump bag of gold." Ser Lyn Corbray was forever desperately short of coin, all the Vale knew that.

Based on my powerful foresight, I predict that Lyn Corbray will exhibit violent tendencies in the future, possibly while utilizing his Valyrian steel sword.

Don't ask me who the victim will be.

+.+.+

There is truth in that, Alayne thought, but some demon of mischief was in her that morning, so she gave Ser Lyn a thrust of her own. Smiling sweetly, she said, "My lord father tells me your brother's new wife is with child." Corbray gave her a dark look. "Lyonel sends his regrets. He remains at Heart's Home with his peddler's daughter, watching her belly swell as if he were the first man who ever got a wench pregnant." Oh, that's an open wound, thought Alayne. Lyonel Corbray's first wife had given him nothing but a frail, sickly babe who died in infancy, and during all those years Ser Lyn had remained his brother's heir. When the poor woman finally died, however, Petyr Baelish had stepped in and brokered a new marriage for Lord Corbray. The second Lady Corbray was sixteen, the daughter of a wealthy Gulltown merchant, but she had come with an immense dowry, and men said she was a tall, strapping, healthy girl, with big breasts and good, wide hips. And fertile too, it seems. "We are all praying that the Mother grants Lady Corbray an easy labor and a healthy child," said Myranda. Alayne could not help herself. She smiled and said, "My father is always pleased to be of service to one of Lord Robert's leal bannermen. I'm sure he would be most delighted to help broker a marriage for you as well, Ser Lyn." "How kind of him." Corbray's lips drew back in something that might have been meant as a smile, though it gave Alayne a chill. "But what need have I for heirs when I am landless and like to remain so, thanks to our Lord Protector? No. Tell your lord father I need none of his brood mares." The venom in his voice was so thick that for a moment she almost forgot that Lyn Corbray was actually her father's catspaw, bought and paid for. Or was he? Perhaps, instead of being Petyr's man pretending to be Petyr's foe, he was actually his foe pretending to be his man pretending to be his foe.

Uh oh, Nostradamus senses something. There she goes leaking the plot again!

The king's own fool, the pie-faced simpleton called Moon Boy, danced about on stilts, all in motley, making mock of everyone with such deft cruelty that Sansa wondered if he was simple after all. - Sansa II, AGOT

Sansa shuddered. Every time she looked at Ser Ilyn Payne, she shivered. - Sansa III, AGOT

Varys was wringing his soft hands together, Grand Maester Pycelle kept his sleepy eyes on the papers in front of him, but she could feel Littlefinger staring. Something about the way the small man looked at her made Sansa feel as though she had no clothes on. Goose bumps pimpled her skin. - Sansa IV, AGOT

For his sigil he had taken a bloody spear, gold on a night-black field. The sight of it raised goose prickles up and down Sansa's arms. - Sansa V, AGOT

Ser Boros was short-tempered, Ser Meryn cold, and Ser Mandon's strange dead eyes made her uneasy - Sansa I, ACOK

"I don't want to." Lollys clutched at her maid, a slender, pretty girl with short dark hair who looked as though she wanted nothing so much as to shove her mistress into the dry moat, onto those iron spikes. "Please, please, I don't want to." - Sansa V, ACOK

Besides, the lords of the Trident were sworn to Riverrun and House Tully, and to the King in the North; they would never accept Littlefinger as their liege. Unless they are made to. Unless my brother and my uncle and my grandfather are all cast down and killed. The thought made Sansa anxious, but she told herself she was being silly. - Sansa VIII, ACOK

Yet the more she thought about it all, the more she wondered. Joff might restrain himself for a few turns, perhaps as long as a year, but soon or late he will show his claws, and when he does . . . The realm might have a second Kingslayer, and there would be war inside the city, as the men of the lion and the men of the rose made the gutters run red. - Sansa I, ASOS

Believe in Sansa. The bottom line is that Lyn Corbray is a problem, and he's not as loyal to Littlefinger as Littlefinger thinks. Where this goes, I couldn't tell you.

(I desperately wanted to highlight every instance of Daenerys incorrectly reading someone, but I chose to be an adult.)

+.+.+

Alayne turned abruptly from the yard… and bumped into a short, sharp-faced man with a brush of orange hair who had come up behind her. His hand shot out and caught her arm before she could fall. "My lady. My pardons if I took you unawares." "The fault was mine. I did not see you standing there." "We mice are quiet creatures." Ser Shadrich was so short that he might have been taken for a squire, but his face belonged to a much older man. She saw long leagues in the wrinkles at the corner of his mouth, old battles in the scar beneath his ear, and a hardness behind the eyes that no boy would ever have. This was a man grown. Even Randa overtopped him, though. "Will you be seeking wings?" the Royce girl said. "A mouse with wings would be a silly sight." "Perhaps you will try the melee instead?" Alayne suggested. The melee was an afterthought, a sop for all the brothers, uncles, fathers, and friends who had accompanied the competitors to the Gates of the Moon to see them win their silver wings, but there would be prizes for the champions, and a chance to win ransoms. "A good melee is all a hedge knight can hope for, unless he stumbles on a bag of dragons. And that's not likely, is it?"

Speaking of problems.

You know who Varys is, I trust? The eunuch has offered a plump bag of gold for this girl you've never heard of. I am not a greedy man. If some oversized wench would help me find this naughty child, I would split the Spider's coin with her. - Brienne I, AFFC

The following is speculative, but also highly rational in my opinion.

It would be incredibly illogical for the author to introduce Ser Shadrich in Brienne's first chapter, reveal his objective to the reader, have him show up in the Vale near the same book's conclusion, clearly signal to the reader that he's correctly identified Sansa, and then proceed to not utilize him in any meaningful way. This is not what a red herring looks like.

There's probably a reason why Brienne's been gifted the knowledge of his appearance, and his objective. Brienne may not know what Alayne looks like, but she does know what Ser Shadrich looks like.

There's probably a reason why Brienne gauges both of their fighting skills while anticipating a potential encounter. (Come on.)

The Mad Mouse, she thought, at her first sight of him. Somehow he's followed me. Her hand went to her sword hilt, and she found herself wondering if Ser Shadrich would think her easy prey just because she was a woman. [...] If it was Ser Shadrich dogging her heels, she might well have a fight on her hands. She did not intend to partner with the man or let him follow her to Sansa. He had the sort of easy arrogance that comes with skill at arms, she thought, but he was small. I'll have the reach on him, and I should be stronger too. - Brienne II, AFFC

We watched Brienne intercept a Stark daughter three different times on the show.

None of these scenes can happen in the books, but we already know the show creators drew inspiration from canon events, and assigned different characters to the roles.

They gave the role of Biter to the Hound and made Brienne fight him, do you not think it's also possible one of these scenes is inspired by Brienne intercepting Shadrich and Sansa in the books?

"But Brienne's currently captured by Lady Stoneheart near Pennytree, and has a broken arm and face!"

Sansa's 👏 and 👏 Brienne's 👏 storylines 👏 aren't 👏 synchronized.

He told us what Brienne would do! He told us!

The Eyrie would be simpler, and Lady Lysa would surely welcome her sister's daughter . . .

Ahead, the alley bent. Somehow Brienne had taken a wrong turn. She found herself in a dead end, a small muddy yard where three pigs were rooting round a low stone well.

[...]

"I was looking for the Seven Swords."

"Back the way you come. Left at the sept."

"I thank you." Brienne turned to retrace her steps, and walked headfirst into someone hurrying round the bend. - Brienne II, AFFC

Brienne 👏 will 👏 escape! She'll 👏 turn 👏 back!

+.+.+

They made a race of it, dashing headlong across the yard and past the stables, skirts flapping, whilst knights and serving men alike looked on, and pigs and chickens scattered before them. It was most unladylike, but Alayne sound found herself laughing. For just a little while, as she ran, she forget who she was, and where, and found herself remembering bright cold days at Winterfell, when she would race through Winterfell with her friend Jeyne Poole, with Arya running after them trying to keep up.

Always nice seeing her act her age.

+.+.+

Harry the Heir, Alayne thought. My husband-to-be, if he will have me. A sudden terror filled her. She wondered if her face was red. Don't stare at him, she reminded herself, don't stare, don't gape, don't gawk. Look away. Her hair must be a frightful mess after all that running. It took all her will to stop herself from trying to tuck the loose strands back into place. Never mind your stupid hair. Your hair doesn't matter. It's him that matters. Him, and the Waynwoods. Ser Roland was the oldest of the three, though no more than five-and-twenty. He was taller and more muscular than Ser Wallace, but both were long-faced and lantern-jawed, with stringy brown hair and pinched noses. Horsefaced and homely, Alayne thought. Harry, though… My Harry. My lord, my lover, my betrothed.Ser Harrold Hardyng looked every inch a lord-in-waiting; clean-limbed and handsome, straight as a lance, hard with muscle. Men old enough to have known Jon Arryn in his youth said Ser Harrold had his look, she knew. He had a mop of sandy blond hair, pale blue eyes, an aquiline nose. Joffrey was comely too, though, she reminded herself. A comely monster, that’s what he was. Little Lord Tyrion was kinder, twisted though he was.

Wow, how much do you love that?

Sansa directly compares the horse-faced Waynwoods, who have Stark lineage and were once potential heirs to Robb, to the more attractive Harry Hardyng (aka Joffrey).

I'm sorry, you have to see this:

Un-fucking-real. So close. They're always so close.

Yeah guys, why isn't she thinking about Arya? It's obvious we're supposed to be thinking about Arya during this passage. The author's intentions here are clear, the subtext is Arya. Sansa comparing these Stark-ish, likable Waynwood men to the comely yet rude Harry the Heir is totally about Arya. Arya's written all over this. We're so clever to see it.

Side note,

Joffrey was comely too, though, she reminded herself. A comely monster, that's what he was.

"Beauty can be treacherous. My brother learned that lesson from Cersei Lannister. [...]." - Jon XI, ASOS

Love when my babies both learn about beauty's hidden dangers!

+.+.+

"I look forward to a spirited discussion." Ser Roland swung down from his horse, turned to Alayne, and smiled. "I had heard that Lord Littlefinger's daughter was fair of face and full of grace, but no one ever told me that she was a thief." "You wrong me, ser. I am no thief!" Ser Roland placed his hand over his heart. "Then how do you explain this hole in my chest, from where you stole my heart?"

Man, these horsey Waynwoods are crushing hard on Sansa. hehehehe.

Instead, he blamed Jon Snow and wondered when Jon's heart had turned to stone. - Samwell III, AFFC

+.+.+

"You are in the Falcon Tower, Ser Harrold," Alayne put in. Far away from Sweetrobin. That was intentional, she knew. Petyr Baelish did not leave such things to chance. "If it please you, I will show you to your chambers myself." This time her eyes met Harry's. She smiled just for him, and said a silent prayer to the Maiden. Please, he doesn't need to love me, just make him like me, just a little, that would be enough for now. Ser Harrold looked down at her coldly. "Why should it please me to be escorted anywhere by Littlefinger's bastard?"

+.+.+

A lady's armor is her courtesy. Alayne could feel the blood rushing to her face. No tears, she prayed. Please, please, I must not cry. "As you wish, ser. And now if you will excuse me, Littlefinger's bastard must find her lord father and let him know that you have come, so we can begin the tourney on the morrow." And may your horse stumble, Harry the Heir, so you fall on your stupid head in your first tilt. She showed the Waynwoods a stone face as they blurted out awkward apologies for their companion. When they were done she turned and fled. Near the keep, she ran headlong into Ser Lothor Brune and almost knocked him off his feet. "Harry the Heir? Harry the Arse, I say. He's just some upjumped squire." Alayne was so grateful that she hugged him. "Thank you. Have you seen my father, ser?"

Oopsie daisy, Nostradamus has returned.

The most terrifying moment of the day came during Ser Gregor's second joust, when his lance rode up and struck a young knight from the Vale under the gorget with such force that it drove through his throat, killing him instantly. The youth fell not ten feet from where Sansa was seated. The point of Ser Gregor's lance had snapped off in his neck, and his life's blood flowed out in slow pulses, each weaker than the one before. His armor was shiny new; a bright streak of fire ran down his outstretched arm, as the steel caught the light. Then the sun went behind a cloud, and it was gone. His cloak was blue, the color of the sky on a clear summer's day, trimmed with a border of crescent moons, but as his blood seeped into it, the cloth darkened and the moons turned red, one by one. - Sansa II, AGOT

"Look at that upjumped oaf," Joff hooted, loud enough for half the yard to hear.

[...]

I hope he falls and shames himself, she thought bitterly. I hope Ser Balon kills him. When Joffrey proclaimed her father's death, it had been Janos Slynt who seized Lord Eddard's severed head by the hair and raised it on high for king and crowd to behold, while Sansa wept and screamed.

Morros dropped his lance, fought for balance, and lost. One foot caught in a stirrup as he fell, and the runaway charger dragged the youth to the end of the lists, head bouncing against the ground. Joff hooted derision. Sansa was appalled, wondering if the gods had heard her vengeful prayer. - Sansa I, ACOK

At the last possible instant, Ser Humfrey's [Hardyng] stallion reared away from the oncoming point, eyes rolling in terror, but too late, Aerion's lance took the animal just above the armor that protected his breastbone, and exploded out of the back of his neck in a gout of bright blood. Screaming, the horse crashed sideways, knocking the wooden barrier to pieces as he fell. Ser Humfrey [Hardyng] tried to leap free, but a foot caught in a stirrup and they heard his shriek as his leg was crushed between the splintered fence and falling horse. - The Hedge Knight

A knight from the Vale.

Correctly predicting it will happen to an upjumped oaf.

A Hardyng.

There are two certainties in this life: death and Harrold Hardyng falling off his horse. (Plenty of people don't pay their taxes.)

+.+.+

The vaults were large and dark and filthy. Alayne lit a taper and clutched her skirt as she made the descent. Near the bottom, she heard Lord Grafton's booming voice, and followed. "The merchants are clamoring to buy, and the lords are clamoring to sell," the Gulltowner was saying when she found them. Though not a tall man, Grafton was wide, with thick arms and shoulders. His hair was a dirty blond mop. "How am I to stop that, my lord?" "Post guardsmen on the docks. If need be, seize the ships. How does not matter, so long as no food leaves the Vale." "These prices, though," protested fat Lord Belmore," these prices are more than fair." "You say more than fair, my lord. I say less than we would wish. Wait. If need be, buy the food yourself and keep it stored. Winter is coming. Prices must go higher." "Perhaps," said Belmore, doubtfully. "Bronze Yohn will not wait," Grafton complained. "He need not ship through Gulltown, he has his own ports. Whilst we are hoarding our harvest, Royce and the other Lords Declarant will turn theirs into silver, you may be sure of that."

I smell converging storylines!

Our best hope may be the Eyrie. The Vale of Arryn was famously fertile and had gone untouched during the fighting. Jon wondered how Lady Catelyn's sister would feel about feeding Ned Stark's bastard. - Jon IV, ADWD

Someone cut Littlefinger's head off, so everyone can eat.

Anyway, there's more Gulltown. Gulltown, Gulltown, Gulltown!

She might do better to take ship for Gulltown or White Harbor. I could do both, though. - Brienne II, AFFC

If the Stinking Goose yields nothing, I will take passage on a ship, she decided. Gulltown was only a short voyage away. From there she could make her way to the Eyrie easily enough. - Brienne III, AFFC

"Gulltown next," her captain told her, "thence around the Fingers to Sisterton and White Harbor, if the storms allow. She's a clean ship, 'Strider, not so many rats as most, and we'll have fresh eggs and new-churned butter aboard. Is m'lady seeking passage north?"

"No." Not yet. She was tempted, but . . . - Brienne V, AFFC

NOT YET. NOT YET! GULLTOWN -> SISTERTON -> WHITE HARBOR. HE TOLD US. HE FORESHADOWS EVERYTHING. IT'S RIGHT THERE.

+.+.+

"And is Ser Harrold with them?" Horrible Ser Harrold. "He is." Lord Belmore laughed. "I never thought Royce would let him come. Is he blind, or merely stupid?" "He is honorable. Sometimes it amounts to the same thing. If he denied the lad the chance to prove himself, it could create a rift between them, so why not let him tilt? The boy is nowise skilled enough to win a place amongst the Winged Knights."

Gosh, since his introduction, it seems like we've been constantly reminded that this upjumped squire is rather inept when it comes to sports.

"Our cousin Bronze Yohn had himself a mêlée at Runestone," Myranda Royce went on, oblivious, "a small one, just for squires. It was meant for Harry the Heir to win the honors, and so he did." - Alayne II, AFFC

+.+.+

"Come," Petyr said, "walk with me." He took her by the arm and led her deeper into the vaults, past an empty dungeon.

I will cut your eyelids off.

+.+.+

"Yes," she said, "but why must he be so cruel? He called me your bastard. Right in the yard, in front of everyone." "So far as he knows, that's who you are. This betrothal was never his idea, and Bronze Yohn has no doubt warned him against my wiles. You are my daughter. He does not trust you, and he believes that you're beneath him." "Well, I'm not. He may think he's some great knight, but Ser Lothor says he's just some upjumped squire."

Sansa's acquiring a new perspective through experiential learning: understanding the bastard experience. Aww. <3

+.+.+

Petyr put his arm around her. "So he is, but he is Robert's heir as well. Bringing Harry here was the first step in our plan, but now we need to keep him, and only you can do that. He has a weakness for a pretty face, and whose face is prettier than yours? Charm him. Entrance him. Bewitch him."

Getting to the good stuff.

I'll tell you one thing, I have more faith in Sansa successfully accomplishing this than 6-year-old Alys Karstark.

(-> -> -> Jon X?)

"It is my own fault. My lord father told me I must charm your brother Robb, but I was only six and didn't know how."

Aye, but now you're almost six-and-ten, and we must pray you will know how to charm your new husband. - Jon X, ADWD

I've said it a million times in other Sansa chapters, so I won't elaborate, but if you truly believe Littlefinger's plan is to wed Catelyn 2.0 to imitation Brandon Stark, you might be out of your mind.

Petyr put his arm around her.

I will pluck every hair from your head, and genitals.

+.+.+

"I don't know how," she said miserably. "Oh, I think you do," said Littlefinger, with one of those smiles that did not reach his eyes.

Excluding the instance where she copied Harry's words, that is the only time she calls him Littlefinger in this chapter.

She hasn't forgotten.

+.+.+

"You will be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight, as lovely as your lady mother at your age. I cannot seat you on the dais, but you'll have a place of honor above the salt and underneath a wall sconce. The fire will be shining in your hair, so everyone will see how fair of face you are. Keep a good long spoon on hand to beat the squires off, sweetling. You will not want green boys underfoot when the knights come round to beg you for your favor." "Who would ask to wear a bastard's favor?"

"Harry, if he has the wits the gods gave a goose… but do not give it to him. Choose some other gallant, and favor him instead. You do not want to seem too eager."

I'd be hesitant to allow fire to shine in Sansa's hair.

This feels like a developing story. I'd love to know who is getting this favor if it's not Harry the Arse.

He had worn her favor in the Battle of the Blackwater, where he'd slain a Myrish crossbowman and a Mullendore man-at-arms. "Alyn said her favor made him fearless," said Megga. "He says he shouted her name for his battle cry, isn't that ever so gallant? Someday I want some champion to wear my favor, and kill a hundred men." - Sansa II, ASOS

"Saving yourself for Lord Robert?" Lady Myranda teased. "Or is there some ardent squire dreaming of your favors?" - Alayne II, AFFC

Edmure escorted her up the water stair and across the lower bailey, where Petyr Baelish and Brandon Stark had once crossed swords for her favor. - Catelyn XI, AGOT

+.+.+

"Lady Waynwood will insist that Harry dance with you, I can promise you that much. That will be your chance. Smile at the boy. Touch him when you speak. Tease him, to pique his pride. If he seems to be responding, tell him that you are feeling faint, and ask him to take you outside for a breath of fresh air. No knight could refuse such a request from a fair maiden."

The above won't happen, but in her next chapter, I'll be super on edge whenever she's exposed and there aren't many people around.

+.+.+

Petyr drew her close and kissed her on both cheeks. "The night belongs to you, sweetling, Remember that, always."

I will make you deepthroat a cactus.

+.+.+

The feast proved to be everything her father promised. Sixty-four dishes were served, in honor of the sixty-four competitors who had come so far to contest for silver wings before their lord. From the rivers and the lakes came pike and trout and salmon, from the seas crabs and cod and herring. Ducks there were, and capons, peacocks in their plumage and swans in almond milk. Suckling pigs were served up crackling with apples in their mouths, and three huge aurochs were roasted whole above firepits in the castle yard, since they were too big to get through the kitchen doors. Loaves of hot bread filled the trestle tables in Lord Nestor's hall, and massive wheels of cheese were brought up from the vaults. The butter was fresh-churned, and there were leeks and carrots, roasted onions, beets, turnips, parsnips. And best of all, Lord Nestor's cooks prepared a splendid subtlety, a lemon cake in the shape of the Giant's Lance, twelve feet tall and adorned with an Eyrie made of sugar. For me, Alayne thought, as they wheeled it out. Sweetrobin loved lemon cakes too, but only after she told him that they were her favorites. The cake had required every lemon in the Vale, but Petyr had promised that he would send to Dorne for more.

A splendid subtlety, lol.

Nice, Littlefinger gifted her a giant penis. I wonder if the ones from Dorne taste any better. (I'm sorry.)

Look, it's a feast!

(-> -> -> Jon X?)

The stewards began to bring out the first dish, an onion broth flavored with bits of goat and carrot. Not precisely royal fare, but nourishing; it tasted good enough and warmed the belly. Owen the Oaf took up his fiddle, and several of the free folk joined in with pipes and drums. The same pipes and drums they played to sound Mance Rayder's attack upon the Wall. Jon thought they sounded sweeter now. With the broth came loaves of coarse brown bread, warm from the oven. Salt and butter sat upon the tables. - Jon X, ADWD

+.+.+

When the last course had been served and cleared, the tables were lifted from their trestles to clear the floor for dancing, and musicians were brought in.

[...] "As am I," Coldwater said. Rising, he offered Alayne his hand. "Would you honor me with this dance, my lady?" "You're very kind," she said, as he led her to the floor. He was her first partner of the evening, but far from the last. Just as Petyr had promised, the young knights flocked around her, vying for her favor. After Ben came Andrew Tollett, handsome Ser Byron, red-nosed Ser Morgarth, and Ser Shadrich the Mad Mouse. Then Ser Albar Royce, Myranda's stout dull brother and Lord Nestor's heir. She danced with all three Sunderlands, none of whom had webs between their fingers, though she could not vouch for their toes. Uther Shett appeared to pay her slimy compliments as he trod upon her feet, but Ser Targon the Halfwild proved to be the soul of courtesy. After that Ser Roland Waynwood swept her up and made her laugh with mocking comments about half the other knights in the hall. His uncle Wallace took a turn as well and tried to do the same, but the words would not come. Alayne finally took pity on him and began to chatter happily, to spare him the embarrassment. When the dance was done she excused herself, and went back to her place to have a drink of wine.

Oh my goodness, they're dancing! Ser Jon Waynwood sounds like a hoot.

(-> -> -> Jon X?)

The queen's men outnumbered the queen's ladies three to one, so even the humblest serving girls were pressed into the dance. After a few songs some black brothers remembered skills learned at the courts and castles of their youth, before their sins had sent them to the Wall, and took the floor as well. That old rogue Ulmer of the Kingswood proved as adept at dancing as he was at archery, no doubt regaling his partners with his tales of the Kingswood Brotherhood, when he rode with Simon Toyne and Big Belly Ben and helped Wenda the White Fawn burn her mark in the buttocks of her highborn captives. Satin was all grace, dancing with three serving girls in turn but never presuming to approach a highborn lady.

[...]

"You could dance with me, you know. It would be only courteous. You danced with me anon."

"Anon?" teased Jon.

"When we were children." She tore off a bit of bread and threw it at him. "As you know well."

"My lady should dance with her husband." - Jon X, ADWD

Dance with me, Jon Snow! You'll dance with me anon.

Don't be offended Alys, you're not the right partner.

When the musicians began to play, she timidly laid her hand on Tyrion's and said, "My lord, should we lead the dance?"

His mouth twisted. "I think we have already given them sufficent amusement for one day, don't you?" - Sansa III, ASOS

And neither was he.

I won't get too deep into each dance partner, because this post is long enough, but I'm sure you can see there's more than a few allusions to Jon (Coldwater, Tollett, Ser Byron, Royce, etc.).