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partfae · 1 month ago

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Sauron, Galadriel, & Tolkien's Theology of Repentance - Part One

Summary: Character meta analysis on Sauron (and Galadriel, through the lens of Sauron). Based on both Silmarillion & RoP canon. 3.5k words. Discussion of Catholic theology involved. Blanket TW for discussion of violence, manipulation, etc., because Sauron. Spoilers for S1 & S2 and the Silmarillion, of course. The tragedy of Sauron is that he gets offered so many legitimate chances at redemption and forgiveness, and he denies them every single time. But we know he wants absolution, because that’s what he sees Galadriel as: his chance to bind himself back to the light, to be Mairon again, to heal the pain that he caused and that was caused to him under Morgoth. But because he has such a warped view of himself and his actions, he dismisses genuine extensions of compassion, forgiveness, and care as simultaneously beneath him and too good for him. And yet, he still pursues redemption, but through none of the channels offered to him.

In The Rings of Power, he’s given the explicit instruction to change for the good in the village after he’s reborn. He’s given the chance leave his past behind and work meaningfully in Númenor. He’s given the chance to redeem himself by Galadriel's offer of friendship (or love, depending on your interpretation). In the Silmarillion, he's even given the chance by Eönwë himself, and comes close to leaving Morgoth behind completely!

Let's look at this passage from Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age (emphasis mine):

When Thangorodrim was broken and Morgoth overthrown, Sauron put on his fair hue again and did obeisance to Eönwë the herald of Manwë, and abjured all his evil deeds. And some hold that this was not at first falsely done, but that Sauron in truth repented, if only out of fear, being dismayed by the fall of Morgoth and the great wrath of the Lords of the West. But it was not in the power of Eönwë to pardon those of his own order, and he commanded Sauron to return to Aman and there receive the judgement of Manwë. Then Sauron was ashamed, and he was unwilling to return in humiliation to receive from the Valar a sentence, it might be, of long servitude in proof of his good faith; for under Morgoth his power had been great. Therefore when Eönwë departed he hid himself in Middle-earth; and he fell back into evil, for the bonds that Morgoth had laid upon him were very strong.

This passage is clear that Eönwë is willing to pardon Sauron--he simply did not posses the power to do so. But when Sauron was told he must appeal directly Manwë, he gave up entirely and skulked back to Middle-earth. There are a few ways to read this:

1. He was not wholly repentant

Sauron simply wanted the protection of a new master in the absence of Melkor. i.e., he was rather fickle and simply wanted to be on whatever the "winning" side was. This is supported by the text literally saying that at least some of his obeisance was completely false, and that he only made a point of feeling bad about anything once his master had been chucked into the Void and his armies and strongholds were being destroyed (Thangorodrim). In this reading, perhaps Eönwë saw Sauron's treachery and referred him to Manwë knowing that it would be a test of his true intent. However, while a valid interpretation, I believe this to be the less holistic of the two.

2. He was truly repentant

Sauron did truly feel badly and "abjured all his evil deeds," but he was unwilling/unable to humble himself after being so fundamentally broken by Melkor and developing an insatiable power lust (hey, he isn't defined in the narrative by lust and pride for nothing).

Earlier in this same chapter, Tolkien wrote that Sauron could "...deceive all but the most wary." This is in the specific context of his physical shapeshifting. But, I would argue that this can also be tied to his lies. Tolkien has a specific ethic of beauty, where physical perfection is equated with moral goodness. Sauron completely inverts what is otherwise a hard and fast rule within Tolkien's writings by being the character most frequently described as "fair"--seven times to Lúthien's six, and she was the most beautiful woman to have ever lived!

(Side note: I have another post on Tolkien & beauty in the works where I'll get more into this idea)

Why does this matter? Even though this interaction with Eönwë takes place in the First Age, Sauron could at this point be in the demonic form Mirdania describes in the forge. And, I am inclined to believe that Eönwë, as the head Maiar and herald of Manwë, would be a pretty wary guy, and thus able to sense any of Sauron's trickery. I read this to mean that Eönwë looked at Sauron and saw his potential to be Mairon again, either in absence of his evil form or in spite of it.

Because Sauron is incredibly beautiful. And even if it is a disguise of the true, depreciated form of his spiritual essence, he presented himself to Eönwë at his most beautiful. He wanted, even in his act of repentance, to make himself more favorable in Eönwë's eyes. To show up as Mairon (who was likely close friends with Eönwë before everything went down, since they are considered to be two of the most powerful Maia and would have worked closely together).

But I don't think this was all manipulation on Sauron's end. I agree with the scholars mentioned in the text who believed that Sauron was truly repentant--which is why Eönwë even bothered referring him to Manwë instead of kicking him into the Void with Melkor.

And this is the tragedy: Sauron is told exactly how to repent, and believes fundamentally that it is an impossible path for him. And yet, he still longs so intrinsically for it! He was, under Aulë, a Maia of precision, perfection, and order. Under Morgoth, he feels disordered, dis-regulated. He needs to correct the fundamental imbalance within him, so why does he flee Eönwë?

It comes back to Sauron's pride.

If he follows through with this path of reconciliation, there is no way he can hide or pretend his actions away. If he cannot trick his fellow Maiar, he certainly cannot trick the Valar. And he cannot stand the idea of submitting himself back under their rule, especially now that he has tasted power. This is a pride wound; it is why the idea of confessing to Manwë would be humiliating to him as opposed to just upsetting/uncomfortable.

Again, the pivotal moment: he is told how to make amends for crimes and determines that he cannot do it. So he returns to Middle-earth and stews in his own self-hated and self-pity for a few years. In that time, he consciously or subconsciously latches onto Eönwë's offer--forgiveness from penance. It is the way forward. And if he cannot earn penance at Manwë's hand, he will do it on his own.

The Prodigal Son

This is where we have to talk about the Catholic roots of Tolkien's work for a moment. The scene where Sauron approaches Eönwë mirrors the biblical parable of the prodigal son. In this story, a man abandons his family, spends all his money, and falls into ruin. But when he recognizes his failings and returns to his father to get help, he is welcomed back into the family without question--in other words, he is forgiven and restored to his former position.

17 But when he [the prodigal son] came to himself he said, “How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18 I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.’” 20 So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. - Luke 15:11-32, NRSV CE (emphasis mine)

The parallel is clear; Mairon, the repentant Maia, returns home with hopes of reconciliation. He is prescribed the same task that the prodigal son offered to his father: he must be bound in servitude to his father/creator in order to pay off his debts. This is a deliberate allusion from Tolkien. The story of the prodigal son models the path of reconciliation that Eönwë describes. Tolkien seems to be drawing a line in the sand with this: Sauron is unwilling to do the work required by the Valar for repentance, so he is unable to receive the grace of a warm welcome back into the fold of the Ainur. Since he did not humble himself, he has to be told to do it. And he does not want to! He wants to be loved, but he also wants his power--evidence, in a way, of how his character was fundamentally altered in his time with Morgoth.

His pride--and his fear--cut him off from the potential of grace. He does not know for certain that Manwë would subject him to servitude (though I would argue that it's textually evident that it is a custom), but this assumption leads him to flee, which allows him to slip back into his old ways.

He wants to be Mairon (admirable) again, not Sauron (abhorrent). He wants to be accepted and loved, but not punished. He wants the benefits of reconciliation without the work he would have to do to earn it or the shame he would feel as he did. It's pride, but it's also deep shame--the flip side of his extreme ego is an implicit self-hatred, one that we can see in the subtext of how he speaks about himself and about his time with Morgoth.

Even the language Tolkien uses is heavily shame-coded, especially in a Catholic context; Mairon did not go willingly, he was "seduced." He admits to Celebrimbor that he was "tortured by a god". It becomes exceedingly clear through both text and on-screen canon that Sauron was routinely broken and abused for centuries. This has fundamentally damaged his self-perception, which is ultimately what leads him to "[fall] back into evil"--whether due to pride or shame, he hides, perhaps because he consciously or subconsciously does not believe that he deserves forgiveness, no matter how much he craves it.

Naked in the Garden

His flight back to Middle-earth after meeting Eönwë is reminiscent of another biblical scene, where Adam and Eve, after committing the first sin, hide from God in shame and fear (emphasis mine):

7 Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked...9 But the Lord God called to the man, and said to him, “Where are you?” 10 He said, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself.” -Genesis 7-10, NRSV CE

The image of nakedness is, here, one of vulnerability, and Tolkien establishes that Sauron fears that which he cannot control. He needs the Rings under his power. He needs his armies and his enemies under his watchful eye. He is petrified of letting his power slip away (possibly due to never wanting to feel powerless in the hands of a Vala, fallen or not, again).

The biblical allusion here hearkens back to the fear Tolkien describes Sauron as feeling regarding his return to the Ainur. In the religious system Tolkien has established, which is likely inspired by his own religious beliefs, Sauron has sinned, and must make penance. But he is afraid of God/Manwë, and does not want to "let go" of his sin. In other words, he is not truly repentant. This reflects the Catholic sacrament of confession, which requires self-reflection and resolve to never commit the sin again.

Instead of shame driving him to contrition, it drives him to isolation.

But he still wants forgiveness. So, in his years of hiding in Middle-earth, he decides to earn it himself. His own way.

Enter the Rings.

Sauron wants to perfect the wrong he wreaked so that he can both earn his way back into the Ainur and keep his power. But what he does not realize is that this does not work. Eönwë is clear that he must forsake his true temptation--absolute power--through penance by submission. Yet Sauron in his pride thinks he can have it all. Sauron is a very carefully controlled villain, and the only times he snaps or makes significant mistakes are when his inflated self-perception is challenged, revealing the self-loathing and/or self-pity underneath. The best example of this is when he kills Celebrimbor prematurely, and cries afterwards. Why? Because Celebrimbor was right about him, and he hates it. He hates knowing that he is nothing more than the Morgoth's shadow, because Morgoth was his master as much as he was his tormentor. As Sauron puts it, his relationship with Morgoth was often defined by pain as a test to see "whose will was the mightier":

This image carries more shame, both in its implicit sexual connotations and in the simple power dynamic of it. Sauron, even though misguided, is rallying against Morgoth. He wants to break what Morgoth has created and build something new, something better, something apart from his old master entirely. But Celebrimbor confronts him with reality: he has not created something new, and perfect, and special, as he so wanted to--he can only act in imitation, not in generation. And when he got close with the Rings, it cost him everything. It's almost like he wants the power of a Vala, and loathes that he cannot attain it.

And this is why he becomes so singularly obsessed with Galadriel.

She’s his foil. They both crave power and adoration, but in the end of things, she does not fold under his temptation. She turns down everything she has ever wanted for the greater good and for the sake of her own soul. Sauron looks at Galadriel and perceives that she would have succeeded at Eönwë's test because she is willing and able to humble herself. This maddens him to the point of both desiring her and desiring to break her.

She learns that she is easily tempted and becomes strong enough to handle it (through a lot of tough love from Elrond & co.). She has to learn how to do it, but she is able to.

She grows from someone who resisted and rejected authority to someone who is trusted as an authority because of her ability to wield it wisely (see: Gil-galad allowing her to answer for him in 2x08).

In other words, she earns the trust, love, and support of her community. Sauron has to force his to comply—it is an illusion of love.

His possessive obsession with her also stems from her fairness. She was the object of her uncle Fëanor's obsessive desire for creation as well. Her hair was the inspiration of the Silmarils (see: The History of Galadriel and Celeborn; The Shibboleth of Fëanor - source with page #s here), which Morgoth desired more than anything to possess.

Sauron, wanting to spite his master, wants one better--to own that which inspired the Silmarils, to own the image of fairness (and thus of moral good) completely. This is why he wants to bind himself to her. This is why he needs her. He sees Galadriel as his mechanism of repentance, and his last triumph over Morgoth. Winning her is his salvation as much as it is proving that his will is the mightier. It is his way of dominating Morgoth. This starts, I think, as a genuine effort at proving himself to the Valar, but quickly consumes him entirely. He is overcome with the desire for revenge, just as Galadriel was at the beginning of the First Age.

And he sees this in her. Sees their similarities. Sees that she, too, is angry and lonely and so afraid of losing her power. And he leverages that to befriend her. This is where it gets ambiguous and you can read RoP as either painting the image of Sauron being earnest but completely misguided in his proposal, or you can see it as him being entirely manipulative.

I think the truth of that scene probably falls somewhere in the middle; just like when he presents himself to Eönwë, he is sincere in his desire, but only knows how to present it in an inherently contriving way. He does want to bind her to him, so he tries to only reveal to her the good aspect of that desire (and also of his desire for power, which he allows her to see because he believes that it is good and also because she understands it), and not the ugly underside of his internal struggle against Morgoth, the Valar, and himself.

And I do think, in his own way, he cared about her. Galadriel consistently shows kindness and compassion to him. In S1, they grow to know each other's minds and souls, and she considers him a close friend. He finds comfort in this, that someone could see the blackness of his heart and care for him anyway. He thought, in his isolation, that he lost that chance when he fled back to Middle-earth. And here is the very picture of the light itself telling him that she supports him, that she sees the good in him, that she wants to help him set the world to rights! Of course he is infatuated by this. Of course he also wants to use it. He is Sauron.

But Galadriel succeeds where he fails, so he stops playing nice and tries to forcibly drag her down with him. First, by baiting her with the image of the man she cared deeply for:

Then, by reminding her of all she is losing by rejecting him:

And she is still strong enough to say no. And not just to say no, but to shut the door completely. To look in the face of everything she has desired for centuries and turn it down, understanding that it will ruin her. Yes, she hesitates. Yes, she still wants it (wants him). But she wins the day by holding fast to the light that Sauron wishes so badly to bind himself to.

Because she has lost everything--her brother, her husband, the station as commander, the trust of her high king and best friend--and earns it back only through her resistance of her greatest temptation. It is a struggle, it is painful, it nearly kills her--but she does it. She wins the test that Sauron could not even bear to face.

In their headlong, self-sacrificial tendencies, they are the same. Both view themselves as fundamentally stronger/better than their peers while also being deeply lonely due to their self-imposed isolation (Galadriel's laser-focused hunt for revenge, Sauron's exile in Middle-earth). But to Galadriel, the light is more important than her pride.

For Sauron, the light is his source of pride. He desires it more than anything, but condemns himself to never being able to touch it due to his rejection of Eönwë's offer. Paradoxically, he tries to grasp at it through Galadriel, the living silmaril, and succeeds only in darkening her. We learn from Gil-galad in 2x08 that his crown piercing her flesh in an act of brutal domination nearly strips her soul from her and pitches it into the unseen world. In this, Sauron is saying: If I cannot have you, I will force you to need me. I will break you into loving me.

He says this to Celebrimbor as well. He no longer knows how to love properly. He only knows how to inflict pain until this object of his obessive desire needs him--just like how his immortal spirit was broken into submission by Morgoth. And isn't this revealing of his own sense of self? He refuses to suffer the path of light, but willingly suffers the maddening path of darkness because it is a comfortable, familiar suffering. One, he tells Celebrimbor, he even grew to enjoy (2x08). As the path of the Rings drive him madder and madder, his desire for the light (Galadriel) and the return of his power (Celebrimbor) become further disordered and corrupted until they culminate in him destroying them--and his chance at earning/owning them--entirely.

And this is Sauron's ultimate point of no return (which we will hopefully see in S3 🤞). The razing of Eregion and slaying of Celebrimbor were acts of petty rage he committed when his pride was injured. This was the final nail in the coffin. Galadriel, in her rejection of him, ruins what he sees as his true chance for redemption.

Galadriel, now stepping into the role of Eönwë, re-opens the invitation: "Heal yourself!" (2x08). But in rage and shame and stubborn pride, he turns it down again. I believe this is where his desire to heal Middle-earth shifts fundamentally into desire to dominate Middle-earth. He always wanted to rule, but now he wants to own.

#fae speaks #I spent hours pouring thru the Silm and RoP for this so if you enjoyed please let me know I'd love love love to talk about it more <33 #sauron is my favorite freak in all of tolkien's lore rn I want to study him like a bug #btw this is saurondriel (and even silvergifting? if u squint) positive but with loads of nuance. i see haladriel as love and saurondriel as #possession. both are fun in fiction of course but I want to acknowledge how deeply messed up the dynamic is #but also! it's fiction! do whatever you want with it! if you want saurondriel to get a happy ending then do it <3 #and send me the fic so i can read it because i'm team half-maia celebrian hehe #also if there are any glaring gaps in my knowledge of the silm pls lemme know it's been a minute since i've read it all the way through #part two will be on beauty and evil in tolkien's cosmology :)#tolkien #the silmarillion #the rings of power #rings of power #trop #rop #sauron #halbrand #annatar #galadriel #sauron x galadriel #saurondriel #haladriel #trop spoilers #trop season 2 #trop meta #rop meta #rop theory #trop theory #celebrimbor #my metas

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classypauli · 9 months ago

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She’s the Man

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem Reader Summary: With the new university Y/N meets new opportunities, plays on the football team, meets new people, makes new friendships, and maybe finds something she didn’t think would find.... But being dressed as her brother can create little problems in the future. She’s the Man AU A/N: So this fic will be based on the movie She´s the Man, it won´t follow every step of the story, I had it in mind some time now and have been thinking about if it is a good idea or not but well, here goes nothing… Not forcing anyone to read this, idk just wanted to try something new. Warning: first time writing, bad grammar and punctuation in complex sentences, spelling errors, boring and awkward Word count: 5k I DON’T OWN THE MOVIE THIS STORY IS BASED ON OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS THAT ARE IN THERE. IT’S ONLY FICTION AND NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

Chapter 1

Y/N is sitting in her brother´s room, eyes wide open „You can´t be serious! How am I supposed to do that?!“ she shouted at him. „I´ll be thankful to you till the end of my life.“ well, that won´t be for long if she decides to kill him right now. „Charlie-“

„Please Y/N you are my only hope, you know I´ve been wanting to go to this festival for so long, you know what it means to me, please.“ he puts his hands in a praying position, and now his puppy eyes are the only thing his sister can see. „Ew get away from me.“ she pushed him into the chest as he stumbled back.

Charlie, Y/N´s twin brother, wants her to impersonate him. Yeah, you heard it right, he wants his sister to go to his school and act like him this whole time that he will be on tour. He is in the band, their parents aren´t really happy about it, they say that music won´t get him anywhere and he should concentrate on the more important stuff. Y/N´s sad because she was always like if something makes you happy, that´s all that matters, right? But he isn´t giving up, he still hopes that he can convince them about being serious with music.

And don´t get her wrong, she´d do anything and everything for him, he is her brother, her twin, but this... She´s not so sure, it´s just too much, what if they find out? What if she isn´t good enough and mess up? What would their parents say? Oh God too much pressure on her shoulders and she didn´t even say yes.

But his sad and disappointed eyes are her last straw. „Gosh.... m'kay.“ Y/N whispered under her breath almost unnoticed. Charlie´s eyes lit up like Christmas lights and started running to his sister yelling „Thank you thank you thank you! I promise I´ll do anything for you!“ He almost suffocated her when they hugged. „Careful with your words and now get off I can´t breathe!“ he immediately pushed himself off and started his little winning dance.

She rolled her eyes at him „So how we are going to do that? I mean, I need to look exactly like you, act like you, talk like you, and EVEN SMELL like you? Well now I´m not so sure if I can do this I mean-“ she looked at him and scrunched up her nose. „Oh, you didn´t you f-“ he hit Y/N with the pillow in the head. She started laughing at her brother's offended face. „Just kidding stop being a baby.“

He stood up and started thinking „Well we look alike, like a lot, so there won´t be much work in the face-“ „What?!“ „-but you need to learn how to walk like me and dress like me. Stand up we are having our first lesson.“

They were practicing her walk, or more like his walk, and she got it pretty right. Clothes won´t be a big problem cause they wear uniforms and wearing baggy clothes is one of the most comfortable things for her. She doesn´t know how she will do it but for her brother, she needs to at least try.

A couple of days passed and now Y/N is sitting in the passenger seat, Charlie is behind the wheel. Sun is shining through the windows of their parent's car. She is wearing her school uniform and her leg is bouncing up and down in black uncomfortable shoes.

„Stop Y/N it will be okay-„ she turned to him „Well it´s easy for you to say! You aren´t the one dressed as me!“. Okay maybe she´s a little dramatic but she´s shitting her uniform pants right now, oh God please let this be over already.

Y/N didn´t even notice and they were already in front of the school. Students were walking back and forth, laughing and greeting each other after the holidays. The girl wasn´t a social kid growing up. I mean she doesn´t have a problem with talking to others, the problem is in the start of conversations. She can try as hard as she can but she never knows how to begin. Her mind suddenly stops working and becomes quiet. She´s not shy, at least she doesn´t think she is. For the longest time of her life, she thought that she was an introvert but as she was getting older she realized maybe she´s just a quiet extrovert. Y/N likes to listen to people more than talk to them. She likes to be by herself but also enjoys the company of the right people.

„Okay we are here, “ Charlie said „Just try to enjoy it, it will be fun“. Yeah, his twin is boiling with excitement.

They got out of the car, her brother went to get her bags from the back and she just stood there. Just like a kid for the first time going to school, doesn´t know what's waiting for them. She just realized that this is real and that what is she going to do is a crazy idea.

„Ch-Charlie I think I changed my mind I can´t do this-“

„Y/N STOP-“

Walking to her dorm room is the next thing, bags in hands trying to find her room. Finally, she sees the right numbers and she can´t wait to put these heavy bags in there. She unlocked the door and walked straight to the room.

„Oh hi!“ Y/N heard from the other side, looked up and her eyes met with the unknown boy.

„I´m Percy.“ he walked up to her and offered his hand „I´m guessing you are my roommate?“ He was a little taller than her and had long brown hair.

„Yeah, nice to meet you my name´s Y-Ch-Charlie, my name´s Charlie.“ she said as she shook his hand. Damn! She needs to concentrate more.

„Well Charlie pleasure to meet you“ he smiled „I´d like to sit and talk with you but I have to go now, you can put your clothes right there, and on the left side of the door is the bathroom, thankfully every room has one so not all students have to share the same one.“ Well, at least it would be easier for her to shower. Y/N thanked him as he walked away. With a sigh, she fell right into her new bed. She started unpacking and soon walked out of the dorm. She doesn´t know where is she going but she will find out. Silently cursed at her new roommate for rushing away even though he knew she was new. Y/N was in her world passing around the corner of the hallway until someone smashed into her.

“Oh shit I’m so sorry!”

The girl moved her gaze to the voice and there was a guy, he was taller than her and looked like he was in a rush, he was holding some clothes which were probably PE uniform.

“I didn’t mean to do it I swear I didn’t see y-“

“Hey it’s okay nothing happened but damn you are in quite a rush”. she laughed and he started to rub his neck.

“Yeah, I’m heading into football practice and I’m late again, oh God my coach is going to kill me, last time he said if this happens one more time he will kick me out of the team.” he kept rumbling but the only word Y/N could catch in his sentence was “football”.

“But hey at least you are okay, I’m glad nothing serious happened-“ she cut him off.

“Wait you play football?”

“Uhm yeah, doesn’t it look like it?”. He asked in a small voice as if he was sad about it. What? He definitely looks like someone who does some sport, he is big and tall with his big arms wide shoulders, and athletic legs.

“No I didn’t mean it like that-” he kept watching her with curious eyes “-I just used to play football too and yeah, I don’t even know why I react-“ his face lit up.

“You can go with me! We have enough space in our team!”

“Thank you but am not sure if-“

“No! Please! I’m not going to force you but you can at least come and look, please-“ he was giving her puppy eyes now “-if you come with me then the coach would forgive me maybe if I said I was bringing you-“

“So that’s what it is about!”

“No! Well- maybe- but it would be cool to have someone new on our team! And we are missing a midfielder because of his injury, so you could fill up his place”. Well maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea, she can at least try. Y/N looked up at him and nodded.

“YES! Come with me- wait my name’s Mason”

“Charlie” she introduced herself with her brother's name.

They shook hands and started to walk into a field.

„You are new here, right? I don´t think I saw you before.“-

Y/N was now standing inside the cafeteria, she was looking around for a spot when suddenly she saw Percy, he was sitting in one of the middle tables with some of his friends. Before she could do anything he looked up and saw her.

„Charlie!“ he waved his hand for her to come over to the table, his friends already looking at her. Well, there´s no way to go back now.

„Hey, I wanted you to introduce me to my friends.“ he said smiling „This is Hunter and Georgie.“ Y/N shook their hands and took a seat.

„Nice to meet you, Charlie, “ Hunter said, „so how´s the first day goin´?“

„Well I´m just warming myself in here but so far I don´t have any negative words.“

Georgie took a sip of something he had in his cup and looked at her „That´s good, if you have a problem with something just ask.“

Hunter laughed at Georgie „Yeah but I don´t recommend asking Georgie for help with a class, he is the one who should seek help with that.“

„I´m not!“ he said offended. Y/N could only laugh at their bickering. „Don´t mind them-“ Percy wanted to continue with his sentence but his eyes caught something more interesting. She followed his gaze until she was met with three girls who walked into the cafeteria. They sat opposite their table and were discussing something that Y/N´s ears couldn´t hear because of the loud noise of other students in the room. She knew that Percy knew them or at least one of them, she would be an idiot to not catch that stare he was giving them but she was fighting with inner thoughts if she should ask or not. Before she could even decide Hunter saw that and turned around to look.

„Oh, “ he said, and soon Georgie followed Hunter's action and started laughing. „you may wonder why is Percy stuck. “ he said to Y/N. „Well Charlie, the one girl in the middle is Jenna, and Percy here has been trying to get with her forever but with no answer “. Oh, so he was looking at her. Yeah no wonder, she caught Y/N´s attention pretty quickly. She was really attractive even from this far. „He tried everything.“ Georgie continued „from writing her letter and getting it into her locker, drawing her portrait and leaving it on the seat she used to sit at to ask her in person but nothing!“ he laughed and Percy punched him into his shoulder. „This is not funny! I don´t know what to do anymore!“.

„Have you thought about that maybe she didn´t see you in that way?“ Hunter asked as he turned back to him.

„Of course you idiot but at least she could give me a chance“

„Well, I don´t know I mean... it´s a little strange I can´t even remember if I have ever seen her with someone. There are lots of guys who wanted to get with her but she turned them down, maybe she doesn´t want a relationship now-“ Hunter still kept looking at him with a serious face „-Or maybe she just thinks you are a creep.“ Georgie said and started laughing again. Percy groaned and put his head in his hands. Y/N could only smile at this boy, he was hilarious.

They were sitting there and talking mostly about classes and professors in school. She learned that Percy is in an art club and loves to paint. That would answer the question of why he has so many paintings on the walls of his side of the room, Y/N must admit he is talented and has a unique style. Hunter and Georgie, the two boys she just met, were friendly, they always tried to keep her in a conversation and asked her questions about her last school, hobbies, and family. The girl may don´t know them for too long but she can already say that she feels comfortable with them.

Y/N was speed walking out of her last class, she had a long day and couldn´t wait for it to end. Tomorrow she´s going to have her first training and she wanted to get herself some sleep. She was thinking about things to do when suddenly her body crushed into someone. Yeah, again. She heard a small ugh and the sound of books falling on the floor. Well only her luck. She picked herself up and looked at who was the other person. She didn’t know if her eyes were making some magic on her or not. She realized what happened and started picking up her books from the ground.

“I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to!“

“No no, it was my fault.” Y/N looked at her and was met with big doe eyes. Her brain couldn’t process what was happening. In front of her was Jenna, the girl from the cafeteria, she was wearing a school uniform and stood shorter than Y/N, her dark brown eyes, which she couldn´t see a couple of minutes ago clearly, matched her long hair.

Suddenly the door from a principal’s office opened and he walked out. „What is-?“ he started but as he looked at the scene in front of him he smirked. „Getting to know the opposite sex, are we? Male-female dynamics. All that sexual tension. It's all part of the high school experience. So continue. Please. But keep it clean, though. OK. Abstinence is key. Abstinence is... the best way to not is to not... yes.“ he slowly took back steps and closed his door.

„Well“ Y/N sighed and looked and the other girl „That was awkward... is he always like this? Friendly?“ she asked her. Jenna softly laughed „Are you kidding? That´s him being rude“.

„Okey... ehm... I´ll continue with my way.“ She didn´t know why she was acting like this. „Here are your books.“ She handed her them and shot her apology for eyes „Sorry again I didn´t mean to.“

Jenna only looked up at her with wide eyes „It´s okay, nothing happened “ she smiled „Hope to see you again“. Y/N quickly walked away leaving the other girl behind her. Damn, she needs to put herself together.

The next day Y/N felt a lot more relaxed, she spent almost all afternoon with Mason and she decided that he just become her favourite person. He was so kind. Keeping an eye on her and always asking if she needed anything. He was outgoing and even though her new friend was the polar opposite of her social life, Y/N couldn´t help but feel comfortable with Mason.

The whistle was heard from the football field and Y/N was trying to find her way of getting the ball into the net. God, she missed it so much. Her legs were running like there was no tomorrow, others got in her way to stop her but they never succeded, Y/N was too good. She knew that. In the past, when she used to play, she was one of the best, if not the best, in her team. She truly enjoyed it and now that she finally had the football ball on her foot there was no way to stop her. Y/N shot the ball into a net and it flew straight to the right top corner of the goal.

„What? Charlie! How are you this good man?“ Mason ran to her and grabbed her shoulders smiling. „And here you wanted to decline my offer!“

„Well I got a little lost.“ They started walking slowly to get their water as they got a quick pause from the coach.

Some people were sitting on the tribune but she didn´t mind. This wasn´t only a football field, there were a lot of sports grounds and right now there were a lot of athletes too. She scanned the chairs when suddenly she caught the girl. The same girl she saw for the first time in the cafeteria and the second time ran into. She had books on her knees and a bag beside her, her hair was waiving in soft wind. But there is no way that she came to look at the football training, right? She was waiting for someone, maybe her friend. But as she kept looking, their eyes met and Y/N quickly looked the other way. This was embarrassing. Luckily she was saved by the whistle and that made her jog her way to the coach.

At the end of her training coach called the girl on the side „Good job today Y/L/N, I would be glad if you come next practice.“ he said as he waited for her answer.

„Yes, you will see me, thank you for having me.“ He only nodded his head and walked away. Mason came to her side and was smiling widely „You impressed him today, I wouldn´t be surprised if he let you play in our next game.“ his eyebrows went up and down.

She was glad that she let herself be talked into this, Y/N hadn´t felt this alive since she could remember. It was for sure a good idea and couldn´t wait for the next practice. As she was walking back she shot one last glance at the tribune only to find the spot Jenna sat in empty.

Y/N was leaning on a table, they were waiting for their professor to start a class. She´s standing beside Percy, Hunter, and Georgie. They are talking about plans for the weekend. Y/N doesn´t really listen she just looks like she is listening.

She was thinking about her brother and how she would call him when her class was over. He already texted her, asking how it was going and if she had any troubles. She misses him, but she won´t tell him that of course, and how could she not, he is her twin, her other half.

The teacher walked to their group with a bucket in her hand. „Everyone, please take a slip and read off the name of your lab partner.“ Percy was the first one who grab the folded paper, he got Emma Myers. Emma was one of the group of girls they saw in the cafeteria. „Oh you are lucky, she´s cool.“ Georgie says and Hunter nods at his words.

Y/N unfolded her paper “Jenna Ortega” she says out loud and Jenna immediately looks at her with a smile. “You know each other?” Percy hissed at her. “No, not really” quickly turned away with a slight hint of red cheeks. “Switch up with me please” he went to grab the paper with the girl´s name on it. “I can’t! She already heard me, what would she think?” the girl grabbed her things and went to her new lab partner.

“Hi.. so you are my lab partner?” “Yeah,” she said smiling.

„I don´t think we introduced each other the other day.“ she was hitting on the day they both ran to each other. „No we didn´t, I´m Jenna.“ she grinned. „I´m Charlie.“ She almost forgot about her brother. Y/N felt Percy´s gaze but didn´t mind him. It´s not her fault that she got lucky to get her as a lab partner, right? It happened because of something she can´t control.

“You know ehm... the whole dissecting thing kind of freaks me out. So, think you may have to take the reins on this one.” she said slowly.

Jenna leaned into the table with her eyes still on the other girl.“Wow, no guy would ever admire that” Oh f- Y/N quickly realized her mistake. What is she even saying? “Shit, you are right” Her hands started to sweat but before the inner thoughts and anxiety could grow even more the brown-haired girl grabbed her hands. “No! It’s okay you don’t have to be embarrassed, it’s cute”

Y/N moved her eyes from their hands and looked at her. God her doe eyes, they were beautiful, so innocent and pure. She lowered her gaze at her smiling lips and then her dimples, at that action Jenna smiled even wider. “So today we are going to-“ she quickly pushed her own hands away and looked at the professor acting like she wasn’t just drooling over her classmate. This will be long.

“So how it went?” Percy asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The talk with Jenna, how it went? What were you talking about?” Y/N turned to him placing books on her table. They were in their dorm right now since their classes were over. “Nothing, just school work” Well she wasn’t lying. They were just talking. He was silent for a minute, looking out of the window. “What are you thinking about?” the girl questioned him but his eyes were telling that his thoughts were elsewhere.

“Charlie I need you to do something for me” Well this doesn’t start well. “ Can you convince her to go out with me?” “Who?” He turned to her.

“Jenna of course! It’s just I’ve been into her-“ yeah she had noticed “-for so long and this is like a perfect opportunity for me that she will finally say yes to me.” he sat on her bed and looked up at her. In this position, it seemed like he was giving her an ultimatum like there was no other answer than the one he wanted. And like dude, there may be a reason if she didn’t say yes to you yet. He keeps looking at her waiting for the girl's answer and to be honest, for some reason, she doesn’t really like the idea of him with Jenna together but on the other hand, she can’t just say no to him. Why is she always the one who needs to please someone's needs?

“Well, I’ll see what I can do”. Y/N nodded her head and Percy instantly got up.

“Thank you Char you are a lifesaver!” he smiled wide at her and went to his bed as she just stood there looking at the ground.

At night Y/N couldn´t sleep, she was thinking about what Percy said and she didn´t feel good about it. Because of something, it felt a little disrespectful towards Jenna, almost unfair. But she already agreed. She will just say something nice about him and see where it will go, she can´t influence Jenna´s decision after that and Percy can´t be mad at her if this doesn´t work.

She picked herself up and went to the bathroom, silently thanking God above that this wasn´t a public bathroom, and could shower without being scared that someone could see her. She doesn´t even know what she would say if someone finds out the twin´s secret. But she doesn´t want to think about that option.

A couple of days passed. The classes were good but the football practices were her favourite. Coach wants her to play in the upcoming game and she just can´t wait. Mason is her right hand and he is always supporting her, now when she doesn´t have her brother near, the boy is playing the role of her twin. Today she and Jenna have class again. They are talking a lot more. Y/N liked her, she was sweet and always smiling, she also found out that Jenna likes to listen to music and loves acting. She even recommended some of her favorite movies which Y/N didn´t see yet. They spend a lot of time together, besides being together in class, they also sometimes hang out in the cafeteria and walk together to classes, and sometimes she even sees Jenna watching her practice. Y/N doesn´t know how she found out about her being in the team but she isn´t even sure if the brown-eyed girl is sitting there every practice for her.

„What?“ Jenna was shocked „How come you have never seen that?“ they were talking about films, the movie Scream to be exact. They were sitting under the tree on some bench. Students were walking around chatting, birds were singing in the trees and the sun was shining through the holes of the leaves. Y/N was walking out of class when suddenly she saw the other girl. Jenna asked her if she wanted to grab coffee since they had some free time. So now they were sitting next to each other, talking about everything.

„I have heard about it but didn´t see that, don´t know why.“ Y/N shrugs her shoulders. Jenna only shook her head at the girl.

„That´s a mistake, it´s so cool, the actors, plot, cinematography, blood-“ she started to mumble about the movie when suddenly an amazing idea crossed her mind „we can watch it together sometime!“ she let out and looked at Y/N for an answer. She only kept her gaze on her if she heard it right. She wanted to say yes but there was something in her telling her that it would be unfair for Percy.

„Yeah sure, that would be awesome“ Y/N said smiling. Jenna shot her smile back.

„Okay, so this friday?“ she asked the other girl. Y/N looked at Jenna, she didn´t know this girl would be so fast, she thought they were just talking about the possibility, not that they were already making plans.

„Yes, I should be free.“

„Great, can you give me your phone?“ Y/N gave her phone to Jenna „Here, you better text me football player.“ she said smiling as she stood up from the bench and started to walk away. Y/N laughed softly.

„Of course.“ she whispered under her breath and kept staring at her back until she couldn´t see her anymore. She picked up her phone and looked at the new contact. Jenna xx.

It was already the end of the week Y/N was getting ready to hang out with Jenna, and she texted her about the details. They are going to watch the film in the other girl´s room since her roommate is going to a party. She walked out of the bathroom and saw Percy, she didn´t tell him about her going out. It´s not like she has to say it to him, right?

„Hey you planning to go somewhere?“ he asked.

„Uhm... yeah, some boys from the football team asked me about hanging out with them.“ she said. Y/N hated lying but what would he say if she told him she was hanging out with the girl he had a crush on? It´s not her fault that Jenna invited her, or is it?

„Oh okay, we are going to the party some students are throwing, wanted to ask you if you want to come but it´s good.“ he only smiled at her. She thanked him and he soon left the room. It was already time to go so she picked up some snacks she bought and left the dorm.

“So? Your rating?” Jenna turned to face the other girl. They just finished watching Scream and all Y/N can say, it got her. They were sitting on the small couch, snacks around them, she faced Jenna and only the light from the TV made her see her. The girl´s hair was loose on both sides of her face, she was not wearing any makeup and her bare face only made the girl’s heart skip a beat. It was refreshing seeing her like this and also Y/N felt proud because this meant that Jenna felt comfortable around her.

“It was pretty good, not bad not good.” Y/N acted unbothered.

“Oh yeah? That’s why you didn’t blink the whole movie?” she smirked at Y/N, she squinted her eyes at her “Be honest.”

“Okay! I enjoyed it so much and actually liked the plot, that’s what you wanted to hear?”

Jenna tilted her head “That’s what I thought. What can I say… I have a good taste.”

They kept silence between them, it wasn’t embarrassing or tense silence. It was comforting. They were looking at each other.

“Tell me about your family.” the brown-eyed girl said softly, holding gaze with the other girl.

“Well, I live with my parents and my twin sister” Jenna raised her eyebrows.

“You have a twin?” Y/N nodded at her question.

“What is she like?”

“Well…“ she didn’t know what to say, it felt weird talking about herself as if she was talking about someone else “She is cool, likes to keep things to herself most of the time, likes reading and writing poems…”

“She sounds interesting, you could introduce us to each other sometime.” she smirked at her.

“Yeah, I think she would like you”

“You think?” Jenna straightened her back “I’m amazing! Of course, she will!”

Y/N throws her head back with a laugh.

“How can you be so sure that you will meet her?”

“Oh believe me” Jenna smiled at Y/N “I know.”

Y/N felt the vibe of the room change. When she was with Jenna she almost forgot about everything and everybody, her brother, her parents, school, her and Percy´s deal, her impersonating her twin…

But only almost.

next chapter

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yanderecrazysie · 10 months ago

Text

Twisted Zoo: Chapter Two

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @ursinaw @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @v-sh @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 and @thisisafish123 wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (I hope the tags worked, I'm new to having a tag list!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you.

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

Previous chapter: Chapter One

Next chapter: Chapter Three

WARNINGS: none for now

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Note 2: I’m in love with Ruggie, so I accidentally made half of this chapter about him. Oops.

—----------------------------------

You decided that the best course of action would be watching from afar. The hyenas were afraid of you, the king of the lions didn’t like you, and the wolves were wary of you. All in all, not the greatest situation.

You didn’t know what you expected. Did you really think they would all love you from day one? They were half-animals, after all. They had the instincts of wild animals, not domesticated pets.

Still, you were determined to make them like you. The hyenas would probably be easiest, once they warmed up to you. The wolves would probably get used to you eventually. The lions- well, that was a tricky situation. They all followed Leona, so you’d have to win him over before you could win over the entire pride, and that would not be easy.

You grabbed your journal and pen from your locker and walked to the savannah exhibit’s door. This time, you had brought a water bottle with you, prepared for the upcoming heat you would have to face. You had also bought binoculars from one of the vendors, knowing you would need it if you were going to keep some space between you and the halflings.

You entered the exhibit, wincing at the heat that hit your skin. You scanned the dry land for the hyenas and found them lounging around the watering hole, talking amongst themselves. You stepped behind a large rock and leaned over it, raising your binoculars to your eyes.

It was impossible to hear what they were saying, but they seemed to laugh a lot. You really wished you knew what they were saying, but if you approached them, they would probably stop their conversation and focus on getting away from you.

Day 1

HYENAS

There are seven hyenas and they all seem to be close to each other, as they stick together in a group. Their conversations seem to be humorous, as they are often laughing. This could be from their hyena half, as hyenas are known for their “laugh”.

Each of the halflings are easily differentiated by their hyena ears and tail. They all seem to be around 5’5, but even the tallest ones do not hit 6 feet.

They are relaxed until a female approaches them. In this case, all seven hyenas are male, so the problem starts when a female keeper tries to feed them or study them up close. They suddenly become extremely wary or even frightened and are very hesitant to come anywhere near a female keeper.

The best way to calm them down, I believe, is to show them that you are not aggressive like female hyena halflings are. It doesn’t get rid of their fear, but it definitely helps.

You peered through your binoculars and watched the six hyenas as they drank from the watering hole- most of them scooping water into their palms and drinking from their hands, while others put their head down to drink directly from the source.

Wait- six hyenas? Weren’t there seven?

You felt a hot breath on the back of your neck and you spun around, heartbeat skyrocketing. There, standing behind you, was the hyena halfling you had talked a little bit with when you were handing out breakfast.

He retreated to a safe distance and sat down, cross-legged, studying you curiously, a slight smile on his face as though he was proud that he had frightened you. Suddenly, you were all too aware of the claws on his fingers and the unnaturally sharp canines that shone in the sunlight when he flashed you a lazy smile.

“Shishishi,” he giggled, eyes locked on you, waiting for your reaction.

“You scared me, Ruggie!” you said, your heartbeat starting to go back to its normal pace.

His grin only widened. You noticed his eyes flickering from you to your notebook.

“Oh! Are you interested in my notebook?” you asked, holding it out to him.

Ruggie frowned, looking a little offended, “I can’t read.”

Oh. You felt your cheeks growing warm. Of course a halfling, who had spent his life in the wild and then captivity, wouldn’t know how to read. It was a miracle that any of them had picked up enough English to be able to speak it.

“Do you want me to read it to you?” you asked.

Ruggie’s eyes widened and he cocked his head at you. Finally, he shook his head. A little disappointed, you closed your notebook. “That’s alright. Did you want to talk?”

Ruggie shook his head once more and you felt yourself at a loss for words. You weren’t sure why he was still here if he wasn’t interested in talking. One of the other hyenas made a whooping sound and Ruggie responded with his own hyena noises, turning his attention to the other hyenas for a moment before he turned back to you.

You decided to try to get him to speak to you, “So, did you enjoy breakfast? You had three servings, after all.”

Finally, Ruggie nodded then, as an afterthought, added, “I like donuts better.”

“Donuts?” you couldn’t help but laugh, “Would you like it if I brought some?”

Ruggie’s eyes widened, “Donuts?”

“Yeah!” you said happily, “My boss said I could bring you guys anything, as long as I paid for it with my own money.”

He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky, “Donuts!”

Ruggie called back to his friends with a series of whoops and other hyena noises and they responded back enthusiastically. You wished you could understand their language.

You turned back to your notebook.

It seems like hyena halflings like sweets or, at least this group likes donuts. One of them, the one named Ruggie, seems like he has warmed up to me a little. We talked a little, mostly about donuts, but I feel like he isn’t as scared of me as the others are.

Ruggie seemed to have had enough, because he stood up and, with a curious glance back at you, he ran off to join the others, kneeling by the watering hole to drink along with his peers.

You were a little disappointed by how short the conversation had lasted, but more than anything, you were excited that you had a conversation with a hyena halfling at all. Ruggie still seemed a little wary of you, but much more comfortable with your presence than earlier.

It was a step in the right direction.

You were not looking forward to seeing Leona, but you were already in the savannah exhibit and the lions weren’t too far off. The pride’s positions were the same as this morning’s, with Leona lounging on the large rock while the other lions sat and laid on the grass beneath him. The lions were either napping, grooming their hair, or just talking quietly amongst themselves.

The lions were not frightened by you and why would they be? They had a killer bite and claws on each hand. They regarded you lazily, as if you bored them a little.

“Hello, everyone!” you did your best to not sound as terrified as you felt. None of the lions stopped what they were doing for you, continuing their actions as if you weren’t even there.

You hadn’t even noticed at first that Leona was awake, until you glanced at the rock, hoping to get a reaction from him.

He sat up on the rock, staring at you with an impassive expression. Despite his lack of a warm welcome, your heart soared. This was your chance!

“Hi there!” you said cheerfully.

He looked down his nose at you, clearly not impressed by your greeting.

“Did you have a good nap?” you asked.

Leona continued to stare at you, unimpressed with your attempts at earning his attention.

“So, I know your name is Leona, but would you like to know mine?” you asked hopefully.

Leona’s eyes turned to the right, as though he was making a decision. Finally, he spoke in that slow, rumbling voice of his, “Whatever, I don’t care. Go ahead”

You smiled up at him, pleased that you had gotten his permission, even though he wasn’t as interested as you had hoped, “I’m (Y/n), it’s nice to officially meet you.”

Leona laid back down but didn’t close his eyes, watching you as you looked back at him.

“Did you eat your steak? I don’t want you to go hungry.”

Leona’s eyes widened a little, as though you had taken him by surprise. And maybe you had.

His gaze evaded yours as he responded to your question, “Yes, I ate it.”

“Oh good!” you smiled happily up at him.

Leona studied you closely, clearly unable to read you. Leona tilted his head and turned away from you, “Is that all you need?”

“I’ll write in my notebook, if you’d prefer me to do that.”

Leona grunted in response and closed his eyes.

DAY 1

LIONS

The lion halflings are not shy like the hyenas, but they are hesitant to talk to me. I feel as though, if I earn their king’s acceptance, I will be able to talk to them all. The king has started to talk to me, even if it was only a few words.

The lions are taller than the hyenas, most around 6 feet tall. They are easily differentiated by their lion ears and tail. There are 19 lions, with most being female, and only one cub.

Unsurprisingly, the lion halflings spend a good chunk of their time sleeping. I assume this is from the lion part of them.

“Did you want to read what I wrote?” you asked, sensing Leona’s eyes on you. Your eyes met his and he held your gaze for a few moments before growling, “I’m going to sleep.”

He flopped back down on the rock and closed his eyes again, his breathing becoming rhythmic almost right away.

You didn’t want to bother Leona when he was trying to fall asleep, so you sneaked away, sending an unrequited wave over your shoulder to the other lions. Maybe if you weren’t so determined to get out of the heat, you would have noticed the eyes boring into the back of your head.

The walk to the wolves’ exhibit was a long one. After all, you had to cross half the savannah before making it out into the back hallway meant for staff. Then, you had to push through the crowds to get to the wolf exhibit. At least the crowds weren’t too bad, since evening was on its way.

You were excited that the sun was falling. You’d be able to watch wolf halflings at their preferred time of day. After all, wolves hunted in the twilight hours.

You hoped that didn’t mean they’d see you as prey.

The exhibit door opened easily and you found yourself breathing the air in deeply. It took you a moment to discover just why you liked the wolves’ enclosure so much. Mountain air. Somehow, some way, the zoo had made the enclosure smell like the mountains. The air was even a little thinner here than it was on the pathways.

These wolf halflings must have been living in the mountains when they were brought to the zoo. The thought made your heart hurt a little. Were they offered a deal to live in captivity or were they captured and brought here by force? You didn’t like to think about it too much.

This wasn’t your battle to fight.

The keeper who fed the wolves their evening meal walked past you with full buckets. As she passed you, she gave you a word of advice, “You aren’t gonna find them all together like they are at mealtimes. They all split up, especially in the evening.”

You nodded, a little disappointed. That could make it harder to find them, much less study them. Plus, it’s not like you could look in several directions at once. This might be a little more complicated than you thought.

Or maybe it’ll be fine, you reassured yourself, trying to stay positive.

You reached a steep, downward slope and decided it was probably the best vantage point you would find. You found a nice place to sit down between a cluster of rocks and took out your binoculars.

It took almost half an hour for you to see any movement. Down, at the base of the hill, one wolf halfling walked close to the barrier between the wolves and guests. He had his back hunched in a sort of prowl, and you realized that he was probably in hunt mode.

Excited, you pulled out your notebook to make some notes.

Your pen froze above the paper when you heard a growl.

You slowly turned your head, and what you saw made your blood run cold. A buff wolf halfling with dark gray hair and pin-pricked ears had his lips drawn over his fangs in a snarl. He was growling so ferociously that flecks of spit flew in your direction. His yellow eyes dilated as he grew closer, back hunched as though he were ready to lunge for your throat at any moment.

You gulped, forcing yourself to stay completely still. You were afraid, if you moved, you’d have your throat torn out before you could blink.

The wolf took one step closer, growled one last time, then lunged.

The halfling seemed to stop midair and, before you knew it, he was lying on his side in the dirt a few feet away. The cause of his sudden stop was made clear after a few terrified moments, when your eyes turned upwards.

The white-haired wolf halfling stood with his shoulder still out in front of him. You realized that he had shoulder-checked the older wolf during his attack. Shakily you smiled at him.

“Thank you so much!”

The dark-skinned halfling took a seat on one of the rocks surrounding you. You studied his features, everything from his white tail to his white ear tips. He, on the other hand, watched the older wolf warily.

The older wolf pushed himself to his feet, shaking the dirt from his clothes. His yellow eyes glared at you, but he limped off in the opposite direction, disappearing into the shadows of the trees.

The white-haired halfling turned his attention back to you. You decided to offer your friendship to him.

“My name is (Y/n), what’s yours?”

He stared at you for a moment, before his rumbling voice said, “Jack.”

“It’s nice to meet you Jack,” you said, trying not to come across as too excited to be talking to him. You didn’t want to scare him away with your eagerness.

Jack continued to stare, his golden stare softening a little when he said, “Not safe.”

He didn’t seem to have a very good grasp on the English language, but that was understandable. It didn’t seem like the wolves were all too friendly toward humans.

“I have to stay,” you explained to Jack, hoping he would understand.

“Not safe,” Jack replied. He got up from his sitting position and crossed the distance between you in less than a second. You watched, trembling, as his one of his clawed hands took hold of the back of your shirt collar.

You blinked owlishly as Jack began to carry you by the collar, stunned by his behavior and not wanting to tick him off by fighting. From what you could tell, he didn’t seem to want to actually hurt you, but you didn’t want to push your luck.

After a long walk, Jack set you back down on your feet. He pointed one clawed finger behind you. “Not safe.”

You turned around and, to your surprise, you were met with the exhibit door. Comprehension dawned on you. He wanted to keep you safe.

“No, no, I’m okay,” you soothed, “I have to study-”

“Not safe,” Jack responded, voice even gruffer.

You tried to come up with the perfect solution. You had to soothe Jack but you also had to do your job.

“Well, you could protect me,” you suggested.

“Pro-tect?” Jack’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, keep me safe,” you replied. Jack took a while to think that one over. Finally, he nodded.

He followed you back to your spot like an obedient puppy, but refused to sit down, choosing instead to hover over you, eyes darting in all directions.

Day 1

WOLVES

Wolf halflings tend to be around 6 feet tall, distinguishable by their wolf ears and tails. There are 12 of them in this zoo, with 6 females and males each.

Some of the wolf halflings are very aggressive, and this seems to amplify in the evening hours, possibly because these are their hunting hours. One wolf, however, acts in a protective manner towards me.

It is interesting to note the wolf halflings appear to be in hunting mode despite just being fed.

All of the halflings, save for one, have hair and fur in different shades of gray, while one has white hair and fur.

You didn’t see any other wolves for the next few hours and you eventually decided it was time to go home. Jack shadowed you on your way to the exhibit entrance. You waved goodbye, and he mimicked the action awkwardly.

Laughing a little, you went home for the day.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland

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anim-ttrpgs · 2 months ago

Note

I recently ran an oneshot for my friends in Eureka.

It was a lot of fun and went mostly smoothly! The charakter creation was very easy. It still took more time than I expected, but that was simply because the players needed it to decide on which traits etc. to pick.

The central resolution mechanic with 2d6 is of course tried and true (I assume. Never played one of the many other 2d6 games.) but especially the Eureka system felt really good.

I think I read in a recent post of your's, that you are overhauling the chapter on combat. That seems very important to me. Even though I read the whole book once before running the game, I had immense problems finding out how small details of the combat worked during play. The musings on game design (eg, "yes, the combat is deadly, thats on purpose heres why" and such) where really enlightening to read, but got in the way when searching for concrete stats.

I will run the same oneshot again for different friends. The game seems really promising to me.

My mystery took place on a single in game evening, and none of the players were monsters. Having therefore only scratched at the surface of Eureka, I am looking forward to running it more.

Woo! We LOVE hearing about this kinda stuff!

And yeah everything about how the combat-related rules are structured is getting overhauled. All of that was written like 2 years ago when I was a slightly worse game designer and MUCH worse at writing coherent paragraphs and hasn’t been touched since until now. Instead of being split across like four paragraphs (what was I thinking), there will be just two chapters on it: “Instruments of Violence”, which is mostly just a giant list of references for the stats and special rules of weapons and armor, and “Dangerous Situations”, which covers every rule related to how your investigators can get killed. Some of these clean-ups are already available in the latest patreon release, and the rest are coming soon to both patreon and the itchio beta.

Combat is a very rare thing in Eureka, but when it does come up, we want it to be tight and granular, but without wasting the players’ time, which I think we’ve done pretty well at.

Like the book says, combat is deadly and there’s a reason why: so it doesn’t waste the players’ time.

This is a twofold problem to solve. The first layer of it, we solved by making sure the numbers are low. Most weapons can take a character down in 2 to 3 hits, so a single instance of two guys smacking each other will never take too many rounds.

Secondly, well, combat is dangerous and deadly, and if the PCs approach it without a plan, they’re gonna die, or at least get their asses kicked fast. Otherwise, well, I consider that a waste of the players’ time. If it was predetermined that the PCs would win otherwise the story can’t continue, well, what did we roll all those die, look up all those stats, and track all that HP for? Why didn’t we just describe the PCs winning and move on? Combat matters because it can change the outcome of the adventure, and if it can’t change the outcome, why are you rolling dice? Of course with death being so possible, to keep it fun, we gotta include lots of “tools” like cover, positioning, different weapons, special melee attacks, etc. that the PCs can use cleverly to give themselves an edge, and *earn* their survival.

Oh and also yeah can’t wait to hear what you think about the monsters. Funny thing about that, everyone who has read the rulebook knows that monsters and other supernatural creatures are supposed to be really rare, like one supernatural person for every 3,000,000 normal people kinda rare, but, monsters are super cool and fun to play, and are one of the big draws of the system, so we were kinda worried that that rarity wouldn’t come through in play, everyone would just be monsters. We considered setting a limit on how many monsters can be in a party? But quickly decided against it, because then players would have to compete for the limited monster slots, and people might even feel like if they’re not filling in that slot every single adventure, they’re missing an opportunity, and so every party would max out their monster limit every time and there’d, again, be way too many monsters.

In practice, though, most parties in Eureka seem to be comprised of all normal people, or all normal people and 1 monster at most, even without the limit. And I suspect this is both because monsters are kinda difficult to play despite their immense power, and, just to brag, because we made the normal PCs fun has hell to play too. :)

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whimsyfinny · 5 months ago

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: none

Chapter Word Count: 1903

—-MDNI—-

A/N: the last few chapters have been a bit wild with the emotions, so let’s have some feel-good bullshit. It’s a slightly shorter chapter because this was the best place to leave it. Otherwise it would’ve been waaaayyyyy too long. Also I wrote most of this in one sitting and has only been proof read once, so let me know of any errors.

New readers start here: Prologue

Previous Chapter: Chapter 12

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 13

The next twenty four hours passed by without incident. Films were watched - with Deans personal commentary - and snacks were munched. Sam dipped in and out, occasionally joining us for the films and scenes he preferred as we watched the entire Lord of the Rings extended edition box set, followed by a short intermission before we continued with all three of the Hobbit films.

“I mean, the Rudy-hobbit is clearly the true hero. Dude saved the day on multiple occasions. Plus I bet he’s jacked,” Dean spoke through a mouthful of popcorn.

“I know, I’m not arguing with you on this one; I completely agree. Frodo would’ve been fucked without him.” As I reached for my fifth hot chocolate Sam strode in, pj’s adorned, and hopped into the nest of blankets we’d made on my bed.

“You have to remember though that Frodo was under a great deal of pressure from wearing the ring all the time. I mean, when you think about how many men it had corrupted over the years, it’s incredible that a hobbit lasted as long as he did. Sam never had that burden,” Sam joined the conversation with his view on the matter whilst reaching for a handful of Deans popcorn and receiving nothing but a defensive slap on the knuckles.

“Yeah… no. Rudy-hobbit for the win still,” the older Winchester frowned at his younger brother, deciding that this topic was not up for negotiation. Sam huffed, rummaging through the bag of snacks he'd bought earlier and pulled out a tub of mini chocolate chip cookies.

“I mean, I’m surprised that you’re not siding with your namesake Sam. I would’ve thought you’d have been all over that,” I joined the debate again, reaching for a cookie to which Sam graciously let me take a few.

Dean's eyes lit up as he clocked what Sam had opened and started munching on.

“To be honest I don’t think that impacts a character's personality.”

Dean and I both snorted out a laugh.

“What?” Sam looked between us quizzically.

“Oh, being called Sam definitely impacts a character's personality,” Dean said whilst reaching for the cookie tub, only to have a taste of his own medicine with a slap to his hand.

“What the- no it doesn’t.”

Dean and I shared a look and answered in perfect unison.

“Yes it does.”

“You guys, seriously-”

“Everybody needs a Sam,” I raised my hot chocolate mug, to which Dean returned the toast by clinking his own hot chocolate mug with mine; copious amounts of whipped cream threatening to spill over as he repeated:

“Everybody needs a Sam.”

Sam huffed even harder than last time, shaking his head in annoyance despite the small grin on his lips.

“You guys are ridiculous.”

“Yeah but you love us really,” I poked him affectionately in the ribs.

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

There were a few moments of silence; Sam likely being grateful that the topic of conversation was coming to an end. Or at least so he thought.

“I mean, if you really think about it,” Dean had no intention of dropping the discussion just yet, spitting his words through another large mouthful of popcorn. “Sam is probably one of the most popular names in pop culture.”

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother.

“Oh yeah? And you’re a ‘pop culture’ enthusiast now?”

Dean ignored the sarcastic jab before carrying on. Either that or he was totally oblivious to it.

“You’ve got Sam from Lord of the Rings, Sam from Game of Thrones, Looney Tunes Gunslinger Sam, Sam from Cap’n ‘Merica, Sam from Transformers, Sam from The Thing, Sam from The Lost Boys, Sam from Tron:Legacy, Sam fro-”

“OK! I get it, Dean. You can stop now, geez…” Sam rubbed his temples, perhaps a little over dramatically. I turned to Dean, grinning and giving him a little pat on the arm.

“Hot dayum Dean! You do know pop culture!”

He tried to hide his smug grin behind a sip of his drink.

“What can I say? It’s how I get so lucky with the ladies.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

He returned the eyebrow gesture with a wiggle from both of his. Before he even had a chance to verbally respond I snapped my fingers and spun around to Sam.

“Don’t forget Dr Seuss! Sam I Am!”

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head as Dean brought his hands together in a single loud, crisp, clap.

“Yes! Nice one,” he held his hand up for a high five, to which I returned with great enthusiasm. He leaned forwards to look past me to his brother and put on a terrible British accent, “yes, Sam I am, where art thou green eggs and ham?”

“That’s it!” Sam threw his hands up and jumped up off the bed. “You guys are nuts; you need to go outside and touch some grass or something.”

I pouted.

“What? Nooo.”

“Yeah I’m with the princess on this one; really not interested in looking at the sky today.”

I turned to Dean, my hand over my heart and a playful smile on my lips.

“Aww, Dean, you think I’m a princess?”

“Yeah, an unhinged princess with an attitude problem.”

“Fuck you.”

“There it is.”

Sam stood watching, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How much sugar have you two had? Like seriously?”

“I don’t know, maybe a farm's worth?” Dean spoke nonchalantly as he lowered his mug to reveal a whipped cream moustache. Part of me had the urge to lick it off, and the other part of me wanted to not tell him about it and let him walk around all day like that. Sam wasn’t like me though, and quickly signalled to his brother with a tap of his finger that he needed to wipe his face.

“We're going out. Shopping. I need a new jacket and Dean, you can't hide that hole in your boots any longer,” Sam stood with his hands on his hips as he listened to us both groan and slump harder into our nest of blankets.

“Do we have to…?” I whined in a childlike manner that definitely justified Sam's ‘annoyed mother' demeanour.

“Yes! Now get up and get dressed, the pair of you. I'll be waiting in the garage in 15 minutes.”

As Sam left my room, Dean and I let out a long, dramatically exasperated sigh, pulling the blankets up to our chin.

“Since when did we let him boss us around?” Dean stared up at the ceiling.

I shrugged.

“Since he's normally the one to buy us food?”

He hummed and nodded slightly in agreement.

“You're probably right- hey what are you doing?” It was like I'd stolen pie from Deans grasp when I threw the blankets back and hopped out of bed, shuffling into the bathroom to turn the shower on.

“Getting ready to go out. Obviously,” my words were shortly followed by the familiar clanking of the plumbing in my en suite, causing Dean to raise his eyebrows.

“Has it always done that?”

“Yup,” I popped the ‘P’ as I rummaged through the lack of clothing in my draws and duffle bag, making a mental note to also purchase some clothes whilst we were out.

“Want me to take a look?” He sat up, clearing his throat, masculinity all of a sudden oozing from his pores at the opportunity to be a man and fix something.

“You think you could?” I busied about arranging an outfit on my bed, too preoccupied to look at him and witness his growing smirk, his arms folding across his broad chest.

“Sweetheart, you of all people should know how good I am with my hands.”

I gawped at him as my head shot up to see him saunter over to where I was stood, the corners of my open mouth turning up as I playfully slapped him on the chest with the top I was going to wear.

“Do you have to turn everything so filthy?”

“You make it so easy; lookin’ like you do. Plus…” he tilted his head. I responded by tilting mine, urging him to continue - though I'd probably regret it.

“I know what face you make when you come; that shit lives rent free,” he tapped his temple with a devilish grin on his lips, his comment pulling a shocked gasp from my lungs at his crudeness - though I was grinning the whole time.

“That's it, get out and go get dressed,” I evaded his reaching hands as I ducked under his arm and pushed on his back, nudging him towards the door.

“Aww, no joint shower?” He pouted.

“What? No! That's a boyfriend privilege! Like time I checked, we were just fuck buddies.”

He seemed to think for a second, like he debated saying something that was right on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down and said calmly:

“Yeah that's fair.”

It didn't take long for me to get ready - promising to myself I'd wash my hair this evening to keep my shower quick. Whilst getting dressed I'd pulled on some jeans that were definitely a size too small; the denim hugging my thighs and ass excruciatingly tight - albeit they looked fantastic - and every time I bent over the button and belt buckle dug into the soft skin just below my belly button. I sighed, knowing how annoying this was going to be all day despite not having anything else to wear that was clean or not one of Charlie's sexy outfits. I tugged my tank top over my head; it doing very little to hide the sudden appearance of a muffin top and causing me to sigh again. I looked around for my flannel, hoping that would help but not finding it anywhere. After a few minutes I admitted defeat, putting on my boots and leaving my room.

As I hurried down to the garage I clocked a black, white and grey flannel hanging on the back of a chair. Not caring that it wasn't mine, I grabbed it and threw it on, rolling up the long sleeves to just below my elbow, the hem of the shirt dropping to just below my ass. Perfect.

As I continued my walk and having completely forgotten that I'd thrown the shirt on, I strolled hurriedly into the garage; the heavenly sound of the impala rumbling as the engine ticked over. Spotting Sam and Dean already in the front of the car, I slid into the back seat just being Sam with both boys muttering a greeting before Dean put Baby in reverse, resting his arm on the seat behind Sam as he twisted to look out the rear window. He did a double take when we looked at me, an unusual expression befalling his features that I couldn't quite place.

“You're wearing my shirt?” His voice was low, which I don't think he intended.

“Oh uhhh, I couldn't find mine so I used the first one I saw. I can take it off?”

“Don't,” it came out quick, surprising us both, “I mean, it looks good on you. You should keep it.”

I couldn't stop the warmth blooming in my cheeks.

“Thank you. And if you're really ok with that? I'd…I'd love to keep it. Thanks Dean.”

As we pulled away I saw his smile reach his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

——————————————————————

Up Next: Chapter 14

——————————————————————

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hobby27 @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @feyresqueen @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world @uncle-eggy @happyt0exist @supernaturalstilinski @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrsjenniferwinchester

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester enemies to lovers #eventual smut #enemies to lovers #slow burn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #spn #supernatural smut #smut

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romana-after-dark · 3 months ago

Text

Rooms on Fire: Sundown

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader

Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader

Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader

Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Ben shows his true colors

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Extra warnings for chapter: Oh my god the violence. Violent is here. Im so sorry.

4.4k words

"I can picture every move that a man could make Getting lost in her loving is your first mistake Sundown, you better take care If I find you been creeping 'round my back stairs Sometimes I think it's a sin When I feel like I'm winning, when I'm losing again" ~Sundown, Gordon Lightfoot

Rey always had a way of making things better.

You were sat on the kitchen counter in a loose tank top and baggy shorts that may or may not be Will’s boxers, watching Ray cook for you an Iris. She’d been feeling unwell this morning, no doubt the stress of everything that happened the last few weeks getting to her normally impenetrable facade. You found out she caught the tail end of what Will did to Jonah. Now both of you had watched your fathers die.

But Rey had been emotional support to both of you. You leaned more on your husbands, but Rey gave a sense of normalcy. He was a lot like Ben, making it so you could let go of the guilt that plagued you constantly, clearing your mind of the swirling thoughts of Beatriz and Santiago’s true natures.

Will was safe. Protective and gentle and strong, he continued to dot on you, massaging vitamin c oil into your scars to reduce them now that they could take a little bit of pressure. Your healer, your guardian. You thanked him profusely for protecting you against Jonah’s attempt to rape you, even if parts of you still wished he wasn’t dead.

Francisco was who you were the most honest with. You could tell him how you felt about Santiago and Beatriz, work out your confusing thoughts in soft whispers when you were with only him. Santiago never let Francisco sleep with you anymore at night.

Walking past you to open the oven, he gave your hand a squeeze, lingering a bit. There was nothing romantic or sexual about it; he just wanted you to feel better. To know he was there. He was better than this place, you knew now. Better than this world.

“Madonna! There you are!” Ben rushes in with Will behind him, reaching for you. “Christ! I was worried!”

You’re a bit shocked, but can’t help sliding into his arms. “What do you mean? I’m right here…”

Ben holds you close, your body pressed against his, skin to skin making you cringe. It wasn’t him, it was the idea of touch lately at all.

Will clarified. “You said you were going to be in the garden, we were worried when we didn’t see you.”

You try to squirm out of Ben’s arms. His grip is hard and uncomfortable… he’s too close. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just- ow, Ben- I didn’t think I needed to let you know? I never did before… Ben, please-” He’s kissing you now, your cheek, your neck, your lips… you don’t want Rey and Iris to see you like this… You hear Iris say something, but can’t quite make it out.

“That was before. With everything that’s happened, Jonah, the assasination attempt, we need to know where you are, always.” You didn’t like him talking about Jonah in front of Iris. You didn’t like him talking about Jonah in general. You squirm and try to dodge his kisses.

He rubs against the deepest burn on your belly, making you whimper, trying to push him away. Memories of Jonah’s attack flash in your hands, and suddenly he’s pulled off you. You think for a moment it’s Will, but you see Ben’s blonde hair fisted in Iris’s hand.

“She said stop!” Iris yanks him away and horror drops in your stomach. Ben wouldn’t hurt her, no, you didn’t need to worry, Ben was loving, fun, sunshine- He swung, clocking Iris on the jaw.

What happened next was a blur. Reyansh was on Ben is a second, a rage you’d never seen from your sweet guard before, and the two rays of sunshine throwing hands. Reyansh is slammed against the wall and you shout, wanting to run to him but before you even move Will’s hand is on your wrist. You watch two men you love beating on each other, Rey kneeing Ben in the balls and throwing him to the ground where he momentarily had the advantage. Ben, however, gripped Rey’s hair and used the momentum to roll their bodies over so Ben was on top. You’d seen Ben use the same move during sex.

“WILL! DO SOMETHING!” You scream, watching them hurt each other but Ben with the clear advantage. Still, all he does is hold you back, fingers stroking your hair in an attempt to placate you, but you can’t stand by… still, you can’t get in the middle of a bloody fist fight, especially after watching Jonah die… why couldn’t Will step in when he clearly had the strength to? Ben has the upper hand, and looks like he’s close to killing rey the way Jonah died.

You see Iris make a move to get Ben off him, and Francisco who was previously frozen in shock runs to her. She tried to get out of his grasp, but he simply pushes her away and tackles Ben down. Francisco uses his weight to pin him, using a soothing voice to try and calm the fit. You yank your hand, hand, releasing it from Will’s grasp and painfully pulling on the burnt skin but you needed to get to Rey. Iris pulls his head on her lap, and he spits out some blood onto her dress but gives his girl a weak smile.

“You alright, my love?” He asks her, despite you cleaning blood off his face and her seeming unharmed.

She chuckles, crying but gives him a smile as well. “I’m alright, baby. I’m alright.”

Will is standing above you. You see Ben and Francisco are rising now, Frankie still holding Ben.

“What the hell was that, Saha!”

Rey doesn’t dignify Will with an answer, but you turn to him, giving a little bite to your tone.

“He was defending his girl, Will. You’d done the same for me.”

“Madonna…” He warning in a stern voice, one that made you feel like a child being admonished by a house mother again. “He is a guardsmen, sworn to protect us, not throw punch-”

You looked up at him again, snapping. “He hit Iris!”

Ben chimed in with a ‘She hurt me first!’ but Will ignored him. “She involved herself in something she had no business to.”

“But Ben!-” You were cut off my Iris whispering your name. Her eyes were fearful… and you realize they held the same glint as when you caught her and Ben together… She mouthed, ‘don’t.’

Your eyes never leave hers. “Well, she’s my friend and he’s my personal guard so she’s under my protection.”

Fracicsco’s arms pull you, careful not to touch your sensitive parts. He’s telling you to go, but you worry for Rey and Iris.

“Will, you can’t hurt them, please?”

“I’m not-”

“But you are!” You pull at Francisco’s hand. “You are, because they hurt Ben but please! Don’t!”

Will sighs, shoulders relaxing down as he decides not to lie. “Madonna, they have to be punished. I promise it won’t be harsh.” His blue eyes look remorseful and honest, like he’s resigned to his duties. You trust he wouldn’t be unnecessarily cruel and you knew punishment was important in corrections… but this was Rey and Iris, your friends… Rey, who had only ever loved and protected you. Iris, despite everything, she took care of you.

This time when you pull your arm Francisco lets go, and you rush to Will. You reach for his face, cupping it as you stare into his eyes. Will’s expression was soft, indulgent. He was listening. “Look at him, Will.” You gesture to where Reyansh still bloodied Iris’s skirts. “They both got hit, and Rey took enough for both, don’t you think?”

He seemed sympathetic to the pain Rey was in. “That’s the natural consequence of a fight, Madonna. I need to punish them properly, according to our rules.”

Tears fill your eyes and you hear Ben grumble, Francisco shushing him. “My husband, my love…” You beg him in choked words. You try to appeal to his sense of ownership over Rey and the guards. “He’s your guard, and someone hurt him… can’t we just call it even? Please?”

“No, Madonna.”

Rey coughs from the ground below you, trying to sit up. “I can take it, Will. Just don’t hurt Iris.”

With that, Will’s face shifts. This pulls at something and you take it. “He was just trying to protect her! You’d do the same if anyone hit me, Will, please you killed a man for me, you killed Melanie for me, I know you understand…” You take his hand in yours, kissing his knuckles that were still healing for beating Jonah to death. “Please… there's been so much pain here this week… I promise, I promise they learned.”

Ben must've seen Will considering, because he spoke. “Don’t let them get away with it, that bitch put her hands on me!”

His language shocked you, never hearing him talk like that, and Francisco saw the look in your eyes. “Will, c’mon… I think his nose is broken… and Iris just lost her dad… Madonna is under a lot of stress, don’t give her more.”

Finally, Will sighs despite Ben’s protests. He walks over to where Iris and Rey sit and helps them both up. “Go.” He says to Iris. “You can use my medicine closet. Patch him up. I expect him back on duty tonight.”

“Will! What the hell!” Ben shouts but you run up to Will, giving him a short peck on the cheek and whispering thank you.

Will tells Ben to fuck off, and goes to unlock his medicine for Reyansh. Iris turns and gives you a smile.

“You just like to touch everyone but me, don’t you?” Ben’s words shock you back to reality.

“What? Ben… it’s not…” You reach for Francisco’s hand for security as he admonishes Ben, but he continues.

“You kiss Will, and I see you holding Saha’s hand, and now Frankie? But don’t think I’ve noticed you havn’t fucked me!”

“Benjamin!” Francisco shouts as you shrink at Ben’s words. He’s never spoken to you like this, and you don’t think you’ve ever even seen him angry, certainly not at you. “She’s had a traumatic months for fucks sake! Between Santi and Jonah can you go without pussy for a few fucking days?”

“I don’t know Frank, can you go without Santi’s dick in your ass for more than a few days?”

For the next several minutes, the two argued, exchanging heated words and painful secrets. You’d learned Francisco fucks Santiago every night, and the dark spots on his neck were from the husband who’d burned you alive. You learned Ben was sleeping with half of delta still. You learned there was a whole word that existed between the four of them that not only happened before you, but existed outside of you. You thought you were the nucleus holding them together. Instead, you were just the meal they feasted on.

You were finally well enough for him to take you on the horse, a careful walk, out to your meadows again. By now, you were too big to straddle him with his cock inside you and your skin and belly couldn’t bear his body against you. So, as you watched him set up the blanket, you knew you’d miss the feeling of napping in the warm sun with his cock stretching you.

“C’mere, baby.” Francisco helps you sit and then lay down, pulling you close with you using his meaty arm as a pillow.

“I miss you.” You mutter, and he kisses your neck.

His hand holds your stomach, feeling your baby kick. “I’m right here”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.”

There was silence for a moment, letting the birds sing and breeze below through the rustling grass. It was so nice out, and you were thankful for your skimpy dress. You are reminded of all the times you laid here, endless hours making him flower crowns, braiding the little ones into his hair, kissing him, napping… all while he’s stuffed inside you, your skirt spread around your thighs. How many times has Jonah seen you like this? Had he watched from the trees as you fucked in languid strokes, not even trying to cum but just to feel him bucking into you?

Or when Santiago had tripped you, burning your cothes off, fucking you by the fire… had Jonah stood and watched? Had he taken in the view, his own pornography, before helping you? Or when Francisco finger fucked you on the horse, had he savored your sweet sounds and memorized them for nights alone with his fist? How long had he wanted you? How long had he taken even innocent moments and turned them into something vile?

You felt Francisco’s hard cock nestled between your ass cheeks, and by instinct you scoot away just a tiny bit.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry Madonna I’m not trying too- I don’t know why-”

“It’s okay.” No one had been inside you since Jonah’s attempt, you barely let them touch you… but you had to trust Francisco, right? He was good. He was so, so good. “It’s… it’s okay…”

The feeling of him shaking his head russells your hair. “No, no love, it’s not…” He’s pulling back from you and you miss the warmth of his body so you reach back and grab him.

“I miss you…” You choke out. “I miss feeling you inside me… I miss you… please? I want you so bad, Francisco.”

“Baby…” He caresses you cheek with the back of his hand. “You’ve been through a lot…”

“And I don’t want it to change us. Santiago, Jonah… I won’t let them tear us apart…”

He kisses the back of your head. “They won’t. I won’t ever let that happen. You are more important than them.”

It slips out before you can stop. “Am I more important than Ben?”

“I love you.”

You don’t have it in you to press further, instead you arch your back so that your ass brushes against his cock in his pants. “So much has happened… I need this… I need to know you still love me.”

He sighs, stating firmly. “I do love you…” but he moved to unbuckle his pants. You wished you could see him, you wished you could see the way his belly folded over his jeans. You wished you could run your hands over the skin and feel the hair on his chest. But you weren’t ready for that. Instead you just relaxed into his arms, relaxed into him, his safety, his protection. When he pushes your skirt up, his hands are large over your asscheeks and you enjoy feeling covered by him. When he slides in, your body makes room for the familiar feeling.

“Do you want me to make love to you? Or do you just want me inside?”

“Make love, please…”

A gentle kiss on the cheek. “Anything for you.”

Sliding inside you once again, Frankie felt a homecoming. He loved the long hours you and him would spend here, cumming inside you multiple times but keeping you plugged up with his cum. He wished he hadn’t wasted so much time getting inside you properly, loving you the way you wanted to… he would have knocked you up first if he’d been going at this rate… but now, the odds weren’t in his favor.

Frankie revelled in the sound of your mewling, soft and tender like a little kitten… his to protect. As he slowly thrust into you, he vowed he wouldn’t let anyon hurt you again. He needed to talk to Ben, to Will… he needed them to get on board. You clearly cared for Iris and Rey and they cared for you, so he needed to make sure they were protected. Ben had been sneaking out more, going into the community to presumably fuck some other young niave thing… but a rule had been laid about Iris. The fact she was fucking him had been out of her character anyway, but it was over now.

Ben needed to stop sleeping with everyone he could get his hands on, and he needed to respect Madonna’s personal space and boundaries. He was not entitled to her body, especially after all this happened.

Looking up the hill and into the trees, Francisco saw Ben. He stood tall, a scowl on his face; he didn’t like that he got to be inside you.

Francisco sped up his movements, fucking up into you and making you cry out in pleasure. You were unaware of your audience. He never let up eye contact as he rammed his cock into your core and pressed you close to him. His hands felt you up, showing Ben what he was missing. Sitting atop his horse, Francisco watched as Benjamin pulled out his dick and began stroking himself furiously. It was a scramble after that, Frankie wanting you to cum before Ben did, to ruin his little show but still show off what Frankie could do, the sounds you could make.

“Francisco…” You whine, and he buries his face in your neck after checking your eyes were still closed, lost in pleasure.

“I’m right here, Madonna. Always right here…” His longer fingers swirled your clit, and he knew you were close by the way you were clenching down hard. Perfect, you were perfect. Your body shook in his arms as he filled you, the sweet sounds of your orgasm echoing through the meadow valleys and hills and up to Ben’s ears. Francisco didn’t see if he came; he didn’t care anymore. He needed to take care of his Madonna, for suddenly you were crying.

“I wish it was you.” You sob into his sleeved up arm. He was thankful today didn’t require undressing. He didn’t want to have to explain the cuts.

“What do you-”

“The baby! I wish it was yours!”

He brushes a stray lock out of your face as he attempts to sooth you. “May it is… we don’t know…”

“It’s not.” You shake your head. “It’s Will or Bens. I just know it. Those first months, you barely touched me, and after I fail the first time Santiago only touched me once a night!” The way you had switched from Pope to Santiago was not lost on him. “It’s one of them!”

“Is that a bad thing? They’ll love that baby too, just like I will.”

“SANTIAGO WILL KILL ME!”

You explained yourself then, what Santi said. How he threatened you. You had one job, according to him, and that was to get pregnant. It wasn’t suppossed to matter if it was by the Millers, by Santi or himself… but of course, of course Santi had to fuck with you more, because it isn’t really about the savior for Santi.

It’s about Frankie.

It had been a few days and Rey’s face looked awful. He had definitely broken his nose, bruising showing deeply despite his brown skin.

“I’m fine, swear to the gods.” He promises after catching you staring at his face.

“Your eye is almost swollen shut.”

“Like I said, totally fine.” he jokes and you give him a little kick from where you sat on the counter. Iris was feeling sick so Rey and you were taking over cooking dinner. The pineapple upside down cake was in the oven, and Rey was working on the main dish right now.

He watched you watching him, hesitating before he spoke, his tone more sololm than you were used to. “If you could leave… would you?” He watches your eyes go wide, so he rushed to explain more. “You’re pregnant with the savior, there's nothing that says he needs to be raised here! You told me yourself, Beatriz was evil, Santi… sweetie c’mon he threatened you if the baby is blonde! What if he kills the savior when they are born?”

“Rey!” You whisper harshly. “You’re talking heresy!” Your eyes are wide.

He chuckles tiredly. “We crossed that line a while ago… Listen… I know you love that baby, I know you want them to grow up safe and happy but that can’t be here. You’re husbands, they are batship insane and you know it.”

“No.” You shake your head, refusing to accept it. “No, it’s just… Santi, I think he needs help… I can help him, I can make him a better-”

Reyansh grips your shoulders now, an intensity you weren’t expecting. “No! You can’t! It's not just you, you have to realize that. He didn’t hurt you because you did anything wrong. You take off Frankie’s shirt right now and you’ll see a fucking masscure because he’s fucking losing it! He’s dangerous! And Ben, he-”

Reyansh stops, voice cracking and you notice the wetness of his eyes. The pain is etched into every line on his young face. “He rapes my wife. My beautiful, precious wife- he… and I didn’t know, this whole time I had no idea what he’s been doing to her…” You can see he’s crying now, and you’re frozen in fear, reaching for his wet face. “I just let it happen this whole time but now I know the truth, and it’s not happening again and I can’t bear to see you get hurt again. I’m gonna get her out, and I want you to come. I don’t want to leave you here but… I have to protect my family. I want that family to mean you too, anuja.”

There was so much to process here, your mind was whirling from everything you were told, but the idea of Iris and Ben… Did you walk in on her being raped by your husband? Had Ben truly tried to get you in on it, to kiss and touch her while she was raped? To make you an accomplice in his crimes? You think of how she looked at you… fuck, how could you not see it? How did you think she was willingly a part of it when it was clear she loved Reyansh? And you treated her so horrible after…

“I’m gonna be sick.”

Your head spins, and Rey wraps his arms around to set your feet on the floor again. The hand that gently touched his wet, bearded cheek now was on his shoulder to steady yourself as he slid you down from the counter. His arms firm but chaste around you as he pressed against the marble.

“Hey take a deep breath-” His face was ripped away from you, eyes wide as Rey was pulled back by his hair. Then, before you can react, his already bruised head is slammed into the corner of the countertop.

He begins screaming and you do too.

You can see Santiago in the doorway, but he makes no attempt to stop the events unfolding in front of you, does nothing as Ben grabs the kitchen knife and throws it directly into Reyansh’s chest where he lay in agony. The scene has begun to garner a crowd, Frankie running in at the sounds of your screams but freezes in shock as blood files the kitchen once again.

“BEN! STOP!!!” You scream, but Ben’s eyes are crazed and he’s screaming at Rey not to touch you.

You aren’t sure the exact moment his eyes go dead and body falls limp, no longer reacting to the mass of stabs Ben continues to inflict, but you know it’s already too late when Iris bursts in, screaming her lover’s name. When she runs to where Ben is slowing down, straddling over your best friend’s dead body, Francisco reacts quickly, scooping her up and grabbing Iris’s arms behind her back.

“REY! REY! REY!” Iris screams non stop, fighting to get out of Francisco’s grasp as he tells her it’s too dangerous.

Finally, Ben falls over, panting in exhaustion. He throws up on the floor and you realize he’s drunk. The smells of vomit mixes with copper in the the room as the fluids run together. You are barely standing, knees weak, palms sweaty, unable to process what you’ve seen as Ben stands up and stumbles towards you. Will is in the room now, taking it all in, muttering ‘jesus christ Benny… what did you do…’

But walks towards you, a bright smile of white teeth a strange flash of color among the red covering his face. Red. He’s covered in Reyansh’s blood.

“Hey baby, wanna give me a kiss?”

Ben is pulled away from you.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!” Francisco screams to him and you slide to the ground.

“He was touching her!” Ben tries to defend, but francisco is infuriated. He shoved Ben away, moving him to the door. On the ground, Iris is desperately trying to get Rey to come alive. The shakes, the touches to his face, the wretched sobs and ugly cries do nothing as he lays limp in her arms.

“FUCK YOU BENNY! HE WAS HER FRIEND! HE WAS MINE!” Francisco shoves him hard, making Ben stumble into Santiago.

Will steps up, gathering his fist in Francisco’s shirt. “Hey! Keep your fucking hands off him!” In which Santiago steps in and says something similar to Will. They begin to argue and fight and scream at each other; you are left on the floor, inconsequential. When you have the courage to look at Rey’s mangled corpse again, you gather the courage to crawl to him. Up close, the carnage in unbelievable.

There are massive gashes in him, holes in his body you can’t believe he had the strength and rage to go that hard into so many times. A stabwound in his eye. A hole in his cheek.

“Rey…” You sob, reaching out for your bloodied friend. The door shuts behind you and you aren’t sure whose left. “Im so sorry, I’m so, so-”

Iris shoves you backwards, forcing you to fall softly on your butt. “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” She screams at you, and you sit in shock. She’s never spoken to you like this.

“Iris-”

“I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU THAT YOU WERE DANGEROUS TERRITORY!”

Francisco’s arms are around you, a feeling you’d recognize instantly. “I D-didn’t- I did mean-”

“You NEVER DO!” Her eyes are vicious, a fury that far surpassed anything you’ve ever seen in your life. “You are so goddamn stupid, walzing around here like you live in FUCKING FARIE TALE and leave a trail of dead bodies behind you! You dad, Jonah, and now YOU HAD TO GET MY REY KILLED!”

You are speechless. She’s right. Everything is your fault. Jonah said your dad just wanted a better life for you… was that drive the reason the uprising started? Was the death of him, Deacon Tom, Delilah and all the rebels your fault? She had said she didn’t blame you for Jonah… but now her voice joins the chores of everyone else in your life… it was all your fault.

Francisco picks you up.

I'm so sorry

Months and months ago while constructing this story, I had a friend i was working on it a lot with. She had a big hand in creating Iris and Rey. The entire time, before it was entirely planned out even, I knew he was going to die. I knew there was no happy ending to be had for Iris and Reyansh. And that made some scenes very hard too write. Rey didn't deserve any of it. He was a good man who loved his "wife." (not legally married bc cult stuff but in all the ways that matter, they were.)

There is no going back from this now. Madonna is shown who Ben and Santi are.

The last poll i fucked up! It was suppossed to be who does BEN love most lol

Save the children (which has absolutely nothing to do with QAnon who hijacked their hashtag) our currently supporting relief efforts in the Congo above our listed some quick facts that I hope you’ll take a moment to read, and if you can afford it, please consider making a donation. I have made a small one, but if we band together small donations make a difference

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LOVE YOU ALL!

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thegreatcaptainusopp · 1 year ago

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Sogeking vs God Usopp: Usopp’s Dual Roles

So I’ve been doing some thinking about Usopp’s two titles on his wanted posters: Sogeking and God Usopp. Both of them are larger-than-life personas connected to Usopp, and inform the way that he’s viewed by the world at large. And after thinking about it some I think I’ve come to the conclusion that each title reflects something about Usopp, and I think we can track something about his move from one to the other, as well as speculate where he goes from here.

Part 1: Why did Luffy recruit Usopp?

I wanna start here by discussing something I’ve noticed about the way Luffy recruited Usopp onto the crew.

Firstly, I realized upon doing my reread of the manga that Luffy did not know about Usopp’s sniping ability until after he had already joined the crew.

This was incredible to me, because I had figured that, well, Luffy had witnessed Usopp’s almost supernaturally-good sniping skills and wanted him to join the crew on that basis, but nope. According to what Luffy actually saw during the Syrup Village Arc was Usopp, village boy, Yasopp’s son, protector of his friends, courageous hero, and, most importantly, liar. Or, in other words, storyteller.

So, my thesis about Luffy’s recruitment of Usopp is the following: Luffy wanted Usopp because he wanted a storyteller for his crew, and this is what Luffy initially envisioned his role to be until he saw how skilled he was as a sniper.

Here’s my proof:

When Luffy meets Usopp, he’s not actually all that impressed by him: he thinks he’s funny, but explicitly notes that he doesn’t want him to join the crew (Usopp said he’d be captain, but still). The turning point for Luffy’s opinion of Usopp happens here, when the Usopp pirates tell the straw hats about why Usopp tells Kaya stories:

Here, Usopp’s good qualities are tied directly to his lying, or to his storytelling, and wins Luffy over. This happens multiple times throughout the arc, with Luffy getting increasingly more impressed by Usopp, and many of these examples include Usopp lying or telling stories to either protect his friends or hide his great courage. Zoro and Nami also begin the admire and like him for similar reasons:

Again, none of this has anything to do with Usopp’s ability as a sniper. Luffy specifically likes Usopp’s courage and lying, and it’s these two qualities that lead him to want to add him to his crew. It is important to note too that a key role of Zoro’s in the final confrontation was removing items blocking Usopp’s shots: so he at least knew Usopp was a more than decent shot, and he is crucially the one to actually invite Usopp aboard the Merry. Luffy seems to treat it like it was forgone conclusion instead.

And it is the chapter after the leave Syrup Village with Usopp already on board that Luffy, after seeing him fire a cannon, awards him the role of sniper. Which means that he had not recruited him to be that person, he had recruited him based only what he had seen earlier: the courageous warrior who steps up to save his friends, and does so in many ways by telling stories. And that is the person Luffy initially wanted in the crew, and by happenstance ended up with a world class sniper to boot.

Interestingly enough, Luffy knew full well about Yasopp’s sniping skills, and was very impressed by them. Usopp, too, takes pride in being the son of a skilled sniper and great pirate, and much of his dreams focus on both of these goals as it’s what he admired the most in his father.

So, what does this mean? Here’s why this is important to establish:

1. The crew has already seen Usopp act as a brave warrior of the sea, and already knew he achieved his dream before even starting it

2. Luffy rated Usopp’s character and lying so highly that he not only befriended him, he wanted him for his crew

3. Usopp’s role as a sniper was not something Luffy saw as a core element of his personality/dream until after the fact. Meaning that Usopp also did not ever mention his sniping skills as being a large part of his identity.

Part 2. Sogeking the sniper

Now with that established, let’s talk about Sogeking.

Sogeking as a persona was born out of Usopp’s lies, out of his storytelling ability: he brought him into existence out of thin air, wearing the mask of the hero that he needed to be to save Robin.

The thing is, this hero is specifically and necessarily themed around Usopp’s sniping ability. It’s revealing of what Usopp considers to be his own best quality, which is his sniping skill. Therefore, Sogeking IS Usopp’s sniping ability in every sense: his confidence, his heroism, the things that he’s good at, all wrapped up into a person that Usopp constructed and meticulously maintains.

So, Sogeking exists at the overlap of both of Usopp’s roles on the crew: he was born out of a story that Usopp purposefully maintained and put effort into: everything from his costuming to his way of speaking to his backstory was constructed with intent and meaning. But he is maintained through Usopp’s insanely skilled sniping, which takes the story that Usopp initially constructed and turns it into fact, the Sniper King started out a lie but turned into a truth because Usopp is just that good at it. This reflects our introduction to Usopp too: as a storyteller first, a sniper second.

Sogeking also reflects something about Usopp’s power as a storyteller, which is autonomy. In creating Sogeking, Usopp created the narrative to which he was exposed to the world through his bounty poster and title. That is a name and narrative completely of his own devising, whilst everyone else got names & narratives driven by the world government. Usopp, in having the power to create his own public persona, chose to theme it around sniping, and thus deliberately placed his sniper role in a higher position than his storytelling/lying one. The role he shares with his father, rather than the one that is entirely his own.

Part 3: God Usopp the Storyteller

Now, let’s go to God Usopp.

This persona is the mirror image of Sogeking in so many ways. For one, God Usopp was born in the inverse style that Sogeking was: whilst Sogeking burst out of Usopp’s head fully formed, God Usopp was a gifted title, a persona that was bestowed upon him by others. Unlike with Sogeking, God Usopp was not an expression of Usopp’s autonomy, or of his ability to tell his own story. Instead, it is the opposite: God Usopp is when he lost control of the story, where others stepped in to control his narrative, to choose the kind of person he is going to be. And the persona they chose? God Usopp, a savior, a creator. A storyteller.

The general public, when faced with Usopp, again notice and admire what Luffy first noticed and admired: Usopp’s courage and ability to create something out of nothing. It is an enduring trend with Usopp, where the people around him hold his storytelling ability in the greatest esteem, while he believes that his sniping ability is the more important one by a long shot.

Furthermore, and more importantly, God Usopp is the inverse of Sogeking because while it’s the story that created Sogeking and the sniping that maintained it, it’s the sniping that created God Usopp and the storytelling that maintained it. Usopp was only able to get to helping Sugar’s victims in Dressrosa because of his sniping ability, before transitioning to lying (and claiming, well, Noland the Liar in a very on-the-nose comparison) and, eventually, falling into a completely out of control situation that causes the people to be freed and awarding him the title of God.

Of course, his sniping ability does return in a big way to complete the arc (and unlock his haki), but it is only effective because of the trauma inflicted on Sugar in the first place, the trauma that directly led to the birth of the title of God Usopp. And, as a consequence, the death of Sogeking, unless Usopp ever decides to break out the mask and take back control of the narrative. If that is even the narrative he wants anymore.

Part 4: What does it all mean?

So, we have Sogeking and God Usopp. Two sides of the same coin, both inverses of each other when it comes to Usopp’s dual roles on the crew: sniper and storyteller. Can the inherent tension between the two personas tell us anything about what comes next for Usopp?

Maybe. I think, based on how Usopp was recruited, and the slow transition from Sogeking to God Usopp, that we’re going to see a Usopp who leans much more into that element of himself. In other words, I think Usopp is going to embrace his role as a liar/storytelller to finally achieve his dream.

Because, the thing is, his sniping ability is already perfected. Has been, from the very beginning. On that, he didn’t need much training, and has since received a couple upgrades that instantly skyrocketed him to one of the best in the world. In a similar sense, his dream has also already been achieved: his is a brave warrior of the sea. If he wasn’t, ironically, he never would’ve been recruited by Luffy in the first place, nor would he have received Zoro and Nami’s initial approval.

I also want to bring Yasopp back into the discussion here. Usopp’s pride in his sniping ability is very much connected to the fact that he shares this skill with his father, and that is partly why he loves to highlight it as something he is proud of. Even though, as mentioned earlier, he did not seem to see it as a core part of his personality early on in the story.

I think, by embracing what makes him truly unique, and truly Usopp (his lying, his storytelling) he will unlock the final level of his power and finally come to realize that he had achieved his dream all along. He just needed the self confidence to realize it, and this confidence would come after accepting every part of himself, including the ones he might feel ashamed of.

After all, his storytelling and lying is what endear people to him, what made Luffy and Zoro and Nami initially be willing to risk their lives for a kid whom they had just met, just because he needed help. And, as evidenced by the God title, very much extends to others who’d be willing to follow’s Usopp’s direction, perhaps hinting at a potential to unlock a certain branch of haki that focuses on leadership and control…?

Regardless, I think that Usopp is due for a large power up of some sort, especially as they reach Elbaf, and, well, Elbaf IS Fable backwards, very much a type of story…

All this to say, Usopp’s role IS both storyteller and sniper and both of these things are as important as the other, and in order to achieve his full potential Usopp needs to acknowledge all his strengths and fully complete his journey to be a full fledged brave warrior of the sea

#one piece #op #usopp #monkey d. luffy #sogeking #god usopp #one piece meta #Usopp meta #op meta #speaks #Luffy #roronoa zoro #nami

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matcha-milkies · 2 months ago

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MARRIED LIFE

Summary: Bill Cipher gets everything he ever wanted, including (especially) a “marriage” to his favorite human. Ford and Stan disagree about where to go from here.

Relationships: Bill Cipher/Ford Pines

Content Warnings: Forced Marriage, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, (Forced) Alcohol Use

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars

Word Count: 1,556

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: I don’t know yet whether I’ll post a second chapter. Perhaps! These gay little cartoon characters sure are fun to write.

Ford looked out over the sprawling destruction that was Gravity Falls. One arm crossed over his abdomen, in the other he nursed a cocktail glass topped off with swirling golden liquid. Bill was none too pleased if he came back and there was ever any left, but Ford could only stand so much of the stuff in one gulp. Besides, if he drank too quickly, the toll on his body was nothing to scoff at. He still had no idea what was even in it. Every time he had asked, Bill’s eye had simply creased in silent amusement, or else he had gone on talking like the man had never said anything.

Little fires dotted the landscape all over. Well, they weren’t so little, were they? Ford always made himself sick with these viewing sessions, but it was the only stimulating thing to do around here, aside from pinging out notes on the piano. And besides, why should he be spared from all the misery? If he was sheltered from it, up in his obsidian tower, the very least he could do was feel bad about it. He took another sip from his glass and grimaced. Great Scott, that was disgusting.

“Sixer?” The name sent unpleasant ripples across Ford’s nerves, but when he turned and saw his twin’s face, he let himself relax. A little.

“Stanley, you’re alright.”

“I better be. That was part of the deal and all…” Stan dusted off the sleeves of his suit, looking around. “Wouldn’t want you, uh… suffering for nothing.” His eyes traveled from the painting over the fireplace and then to the lavish, dark red robe Ford had cinched around his waist.

“Bill had a different flavor of suffering in mind for me.” As if to punctuate that statement, he tilted back his drink and nearly coughed it up again.

“Yeesh.”

“It tastes like bitter defeat,” Ford explained. He saw the face his brother was making. “I’m not being poetic, Stanley. He somehow made it taste like the actual poignant sting of failure. I would offer you to try some if I didn’t think it was slowly poisoning me.”

“Yeah, pass on that one. Why don’t you just dump it out in the sink? You do have a sink in here, don’t you?”

“Ah, yes, of course, why didn’t I think of that?” Ford’s expression softened, and he sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be snippy. It’s just… He would know. By the time I’m to the bottom of one of these, I’m… different. For quite some time.”

Stan seemed to be snapping these pieces together in his head, the drink, the robe, the golden “wedding band” around Ford’s throat. Clearly, it was forming a picture he didn’t like. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

Ford eyed him and then let his gaze drop.

“Poindexter? You’ve been thinkin’ up a plan, right?”

“Of course I have! Every second of every hour, and I just keep hitting dead ends. He’s virtually omnipotent. I’m bound by contract to him, and even me thinking of ways to get out of it could give him a reason to renege on his end of the deal and hurt you! Or worse, the kids!”

“So that’s just it?! We lie down and roll over?!”

“I-I don’t know, Stanley. I’m mated.” Off his brother’s look, he added, “That’s a chess term.”

“I-I know it is! But could you not use it next time?”

Ford sank down onto the flesh couch. He hated that it hardly bothered him anymore. “Maybe this is it. Maybe… I’m meant to accept this fate, as punishment for—”

“Stop! Stop that! Do you hear yourself?” Stan strode forward until he was in his brother’s face. “You’re this pathetic? You hand the universe over to Bill Cipher on a silver platter and then give up?! You’re probably the only one smart enough to think up a way out of this mess, so how about less wallowing and more scheming?! Who cares what happens to me?!”

Ford screwed his eyes shut as he was berated. “I do! What kind of idiotic question is that?”

“And the kids, you want them to grow up in a world where Bill Cipher is king?!”

“Of course not, but you don’t know the things he’d do to them if I acted out, Stan! He’s not going to spare them because they’re children! He will torture them!”

Stan smacked the glass out of Ford’s hand. It shattered on the floor. Ford gaped. “Stan, you shouldn’t have—”

“I don’t care what he thinks! Neither should you!”

“Stop framing it like I’m on his side!”

“Aren’t you, now?!”

“I’m only trying to be pragmatic about our options! And thank God I am, or who knows where we’d all be right now?!”

Ford froze then, his muscles tensing at a familiar presence in the room.

“YIKES. Who knew the family reunion would get this VOLATILE?” Bill circled them with glee, his eye trained on them all the while. “HEY, I guess I’m part of the family now too, isn’t that right, Fez?” He looped an arm around a growling Stanley and wiggled his ring finger. “We’re brothers-in-law! Ha! Who would’ve thought?”

“Bill.” Ford’s breaths were painfully shallow. “I—”

“And Sixer!” Bill was suddenly in his face, his eye taking up the majority of Ford’s field of vision. “I had NO IDEA you thought about me this much when I’m away! That’s so sweet!” With no warning, his eye turned to a mouth and trailed saliva up Ford’s cheek and temple, leaving his glasses askew and his face scrunched up in distaste. The demon’s eye blinked back to normal. “WELL? Where’s my WELCOME HOME KISS?”

Once he had gathered himself enough, Ford leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on Bill’s face, near the corner of his eye. Bill giggled like a little schoolgirl.

“OH NO. It looks like somebody was REAL CLUMSY! Let me refresh your drink, doll!” The shattered glass reassembled itself and floated into Ford’s hand. The liquid leached out of the carpet, pouring itself back into place. “You hardly drank any! Here, let me help with that.”

“Bill—” was all Ford managed before his head was tilted back and about half of the glass’s contents were dumped down his throat. He gagged and almost choked, but somehow got it all down. When he was allowed to hold his head upright again, he found it quite the effort to do so. His brain felt fuzzy and full of cotton. There was a weird glittery filter over the world. He felt far more relaxed, despite the pounding point of tension persisting at the back of his mind. Any worry was now faint, like a distant star.

“Ford!” Stan shouted, but it was difficult to care that that was happening.

“Mhm,” was all he said in response, finally letting his head loll and his eyes close. “Mmm.”

“He’s just so TENSE all the time,” Bill explained casually. “This is how I get him to LOOSEN UP. And hey, I guess it makes it harder for him to YELL at you too. You’re welcome.”

“You’re sick, you three-sided freak!” Stan shook his fist, almost like a threat, as if he could do anything to the dream demon. “I’ll end you!”

“DOING AWAY WITH THE PRETENSE, HUH?”

“Pretense,” Ford laughed for some reason, stretching himself across the full length of the couch and propping his head up with his forearm. This seemed to delight Bill, who began petting through the man’s hair.

“IT IS A PRETTY FUNNY WORD, ISN’T IT, IQ?” The demon swirled the drink a little and then brought it to Ford’s lips.

“Mhm,” Ford agreed, his response partially muffled by the glass as he sipped down more of the mysterious golden liquor.

“SEE? I enjoy the MENTAL SPARRING, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes that big brain of his gets in the way.” Bill affectionately tapped the side of Ford’s head as he let the quarter-full drink hang in midair. “ANYHOO.” He rotated to face Stan head-on; the movement was uncanny. “You should get back to the twins! Cook up another adorable scheme that’s doomed to fail! Sixer and I will watch from up here!”

“S’anley,” Ford slurred, shaking his head in protest, but he didn’t get very far in his thought before Bill pressed the rim of the glass to his lips again. “B- ill– please- I-I can… can’t…” The room was spinning now, violently, and he felt like he was going to be sick. It was like he was speedrunning a very bad hangover.

“SURE YOU CAN! Don’t worry, I won’t let you throw up.” Another pat on the head, and Ford groaned his distress as his throat bobbed and the last of the liquid disappeared down his esophagus.

“Unh… S’an… Stan…” His head dropped onto the couch, eyes struggling to focus.

“Sixer.” Stan started towards his twin, but before he could make it more than two steps, Bill snapped his fingers and Stan was gone, returned to where he’d come from. The demon sank onto the couch and arranged Ford until his head was on his lap (however much of a lap Bill had), fingers continuing to card through his hair.

“Come on. Don’t look at me like that, Fordsy. The relatives can come to visit another time.”

#billford #gravity falls #ford pines #bill cipher #forced marriage #weirdmageddon #bill cipher x ford pines #bill x ford #dubious consent #implied/referenced dubious consent #stanford pines #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #image description in alt #cross posted on ao3 #matcha-milkies ♡♡

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rise-my-angel · 9 months ago

Text

Heart of the Great Wolf

41 - Past Becomes the Present

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

Length: 15.4k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past character death, discussion of medical distress, references to previous trauma, imagery of blood and gore, breeding kink, smut, mentions of anal

Notes: Reference to a specific book originated event with Ramsay this chapter, so if you catch it, I am sorry in advance. It not don't worry everything is fine, I promise. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

It wasn't so much disappointment, but more an exasperated feeling tiring him out. Hand running down his face, yourself biting down on your tongue to keep whatever it was that wanted to come out dismissively, still inside.

The last thing Jon wanted to do was bring you up to speed on everything immediately, but you dove right into things far to quick for him to catch up and force you to slow down. Getting to what he had uncovered, he struggled with now. Trying to fight between telling you the truth, and wanting you to just listen to him and rest instead. You both knew which one you'd rather have win out.

He had tried imploring you to rest, but by this point there had been little use in trying to dissuade you. You knew what he was planning, you knew he had done it while you were unconscious, but questions kept coming up and through what point you were trying to make separately. “How would he even know he could persuade her to do this in the first place? That feels like a huge risk.”

With what little was in front of you in the first place, Jon silently all but tossed more food on it with a pointed stare before he answered. “She hated my father, and he's betrayed you and my father before. With you and Robb gone, the timing never seemed better.” You had opened your mouth to speak but almost with a sternness did he gesture back to your plate to interrupt first. “Eat.”

He and Ghost both, lately. One wolf starts acting over protective and the other follows suit without failure.

You two were at least grateful that this part of the castle was on the quieter, less busy side then others. Since coming back to this place proper, any of what was used as the Starks normal living quarters seemed to be as minimally populated as Jon could have it, moreso then it used to be.

More a man of privacy then many Starks before him, Jon was. It also meant many weren't there to walk in and disturb when you both used the privacy to sort out the piling array of obstacles coming for you every which way. “Something still doesn't add up. Hating your father doesn't give her something in common with Littlefinger. He didn't hate the Starks anymore then the other people he manipulates.”

Eyes drifting to the side, squinting in thought you came up with the answer far slower then Jon had long since put the dots together. Voice low, and a bit on the air of tense himself. “He didn't need to have it in common, but he used it as a way to manipulate her against us.” Asking what that was, the answer took you back a slight bit. “My Uncle Brandon.”

“What does he-”

It was neither you nor him whose voice spoke out coming from the door frame. Theon walking in with a pointed look in your direction. “You weren't the only one with a secret Stark lover.” Brows narrowing just before your face fell a bit in a realization before shifting all together into a bit more of a grimace. A connection was asked and answered despite how little it sounded appealing. Taking a seat of his own, Theon continued, more towards Jon. “At least you have better taste then your Uncle did. No offence meant.”

Muttering rough and low into the mug up to his lips, “None taken.” The sounds of footsteps came down the hall and one more had intention of joining. Unbeknownst to them, rescuing you for now, from Jon swinging the conversation back to what you knew was on his mind the most in present thought. But this one was a safer bet amongst this company at the least.

Arya practically speaking through her first bites soon as she sat down, “Everything that's going on, and she risks it all for something that happened, what? Thirty years ago? Why not let it go, why risk betraying us over it?”

Raising your eyebrows with a slightly tilt of your head towards her, you spoke it more casually then gave away your thought process behind it. “You hold onto your anger long enough, it needs to eventually go somewhere.”

The younger wolfs face twisting in a similar fashion as the brother next to her, but with more of an open aggravation attached to her spoken words. “The other families haven't held it against us. Why should she get to blame us for something no one else does.” Her eyes an anger without something to latch it onto, Arya had let it fester into something irritated the entire day.

Once more Jon only muttering, barley a noticeable nod towards your once more not eating figure, as he did so. “I won't know until I question her, but it's not that simple. Getting over something you've spent a long time obsessing over.”

One lead to another and once more it felt as if the world was telling you that the coming winter was not the thing to focus on. The rest of the realm begged you to divert your focus to it's constant circle of backstabbing and scheming. It never stopped and it was the least important in what was to come, but it stood in your way. Telling you that you'd be a fool to prioritize winter over this and that.

The South were all were missing the point you and Jon were trying to do, that you were fighting towards the wrong ends. None of this will matter if you let it become the only importance. But it was still in front of you, and you couldn't just ignore it beacuse it should be secondary. Leaning forward, not quite looking at the others but as your arms crossed in front of you on the wooden surface, your mind felt distant.

“So, Roose Bolton betrays Robb, which leads to Barbery Dustin to betray you,” Hand vaguely gesturing in Jons direction, not even noting that you kept yourself out of it all. “If Littlefinger wants the North, he needs to get rid of one or both of us knowing we'd never trust him. And if you're right, if Sansa is with him, she'd be the only way to even get him here possibly unscathed. But still, he can't do anything when he's here. He has no actual ties to her.”

Arya piping up through bites, “What about if he marries her?”

Shaking your head, your face twisted in a doubt that was far too passing for the three of them to follow. And yet it was your next words which made that all the more confusing. “He can't. And even if it were possible, Sansa has nothing to claim.”

Flickering to their gazes now all on you, and matching in a narrow confusion, you hadn't yet realized that there was no reasonable way for any of them to have this knowledge. They all were immensely far from it's occurrence. And if you were to have spent more then a few moments considering it, you would have attempted to approach it with far more tact then none at all. Which was how it slipped out.

“The Faith will never annul a marriage between two highborns both found guilty of regicide. With Sansa on the run first, and now Tyrion? To split them up now would give the people the idea that Sansa had nothing to do with Jofferys murder. And the Faith would never concede to that.” It was only mid chewing did you notice the silence in the seconds that followed as awkward and stiff.

Looking over with a rough swallow, did it occur to you then of their uninformed positions. And that was information delivered in the worst possible manner. Theon looked around as uncharacteristically uncomfortable at the image as you had, but it was the matching wide eyed and entirely taken back expressions matching of Jon and Arya that clued you in. Lips parting just slightly enough as you whispered into the air, almost only to yourself, “Right. You three wouldn't have had any reason to know about that.”

Thankfully, Theon who was far more what you felt gave the same response you had hearing it for the first time. Much easier to divert your attention towards, and both wolves slowly looked from you, to the other and back again. “She married the Imp?”

Nodding, you inhaled with a hesitation in your eyes glazing over before it flashed out of existence in a flicker of flames in wind. Tilting your head slightly, you reached far beyond the realms of this life to gather information once learned both within the ruins of Harrenhal and the grieving halls of Riverrun. Considering, you were long since at war at that point, you were fairly certain the onslaught of horror and painful news hitting one after the other made learning of this with Robb a bit easier to swallow then it was for them now.

Calm and collected however, you thought to yourself as you looked to Theon, simply answer as the events occurred. Not the why. “Tywin Lannister had pushed my fathers forces out of Kings Landing, meaning he had a lot more reach as proper Hand of the King by then. So he started working to find ways to gain and upper hand against Robb, since he had spent the past three years losing horrendously.”

One way to put it. Another was Robb had taken control of every battle he fought and scared the great Tywin Lannister into hiding. Only willing to come out to drive back your fathers army in a last moment rescue effort. The Lannisters fell apart after his death, and thus you suspected Cersei had not anywhere near the same drive as her own father to go after Jon the way Tywin failed against Robb.

But you pressed on, voice only so on the edge of a grating tone that Jon alone could pick it up. “Joffery took Margaery Tyrell as a bride when they aided Tywins forces. The easy version I'm sure the Lannisters would rather have spread is that they simply wanted to secure the North.”

Theon was the only one to speak. Jon and Arya both, felt like they were listening to a made up story which they only caught half way through. As close as Arya was to the war for so long, she knew next to nothing about its happenings and Jon was so far from the Seven Kingdoms by then, he was beyond the Wall when there were still free folk there to lie to.

Perhaps though, it also was the fact that as close as you and Theon were to the Starks, there was the disconnect that you two were not bound to the family by your own blood. In the back of your mind, were you to hear a similar story of Shireen being married off to what you would consider the enemy, you likely would be as silent and taken back as they were.

Theon learning forward, matching the crossed placement of your arms to his looking towards you with a gaze further in wonder. “Hypothetically speaking, let's say Sansa was found innocent, her marriage to the imp annulled. Why would they need to get rid of you two first if Littlefinger thinks he can control the North through Sansa?”

Your eyes found grey ones, a knowing in one way and a struggle in acceptance of the other. Jon never wanted to seem as if he was taking anything from his siblings, and the way that woman had spoken of him as if it was an irrefutable fact. Soft and something distant in your gaze flickered away from him with a pain not his fault, but existed in your tone all the same. “We only found out about Sansa right before we left for the Twins. We received a raven with the news, and by that night all of the Northern Lords had all heard and signed in agreement to Robbs will. Which included his line of succession.”

No one was devoid of the fact that you were speaking around it, but no one tried to fill in such gaps anyways. Which was all you could appreciate as each word was very noticeably chosen with care as you said them. “Sansa marrying Tyrion was why Robb declared an heir in the first place. We knew it meant Tywin was planning something. We didn't know what he had planned, but if he was preparing for a North without Robb then we needed to as well. And the first thing he did was disinherit Sansa from any claim to the North. By marriage she's a Lannister, and any children they'd have would be Lannisters and Robb refused to give them any way to take the North. Even if she came home right now, free as a bird, she still wouldn't have a single claim to any rule. Robb made sure that was clear.”

What the others reactions were, you didn't find it in you to look. It didn't feel good saying, especially so far from that night. None of it was in malice, and as soon as Robb put it forth you both understood the weight of such a choice. But to repeat it here, so far from that without any of the way Robb could spin anything in such a manner? Out of your mouth it only sounded distant and cold.

It was incredibly hard to determine what was behind the strained roughness in Jons voice, and you had yet to find it in you to look at either Stark. Yourself slipping easily into the mask of panic at seeing a disappointment looking towards you, or worse. “And now that Arya's back?”

Were you looking, you would've seen the way her head whipped over to Jon with as close to a glare as she had ever directed his way. Her own voice raising in an instant to an offended yell of protest, “I never said I wanted to-”

Jon only replying back just as held back as you were feeling for any number of reasons. “It's not about want, Arya. You're a Stark-”

Only shouting back with something even angrier then before, “So are you,”

Cutting both of them off, you only somewhat looked in their direction but found not their faces yet, not the bravery of whatever expression they held even as your voice overpowered them. “It doesn't matter. You being here, if Sansa came back, if Bran came through the gates right now, it doesn't matter. If Robb had an heir of his own, the North is Jons until they would've come of age. Without one, as long as Jon and whatever bloodline runs through him is alive, the North is his.” Jons eyes flashed over with something that no one caught as he looked tensely towards you, still avoiding his gaze for not at all the same reasons he wanted to find yours. “He's the rightful King in the North and Robb wouldn't budge on anything less then that.”

Arya was quiet as was everyone else, waiting for either wolf to make the first move to break the heavy silence and all words left your willingness to do so for their sake. This all would have sounded so much less stern coming from Robb when he explained it then. Everything just sounded as callous and unfeeling coming from you as it did your father.

Too formal, too matter of fact. Made even worse speaking as such in front of a family as close as the Starks, and siblings as bonded as Jon and Arya. It made you feel as if you were putting words in Robbs mouth to drive a wedge between them, when it was the truth you spoke. Only the truth was warm and soothing when Robb said it.

Perhaps if you were more of a coward and less stubborn, you'd have fled from the remainder of what this conversation became. Instead, it was your words and so you had to defend them. The High lords would confirm the truth of facts, but only you could defend Robbs emotions and thoughts over the matter.

If he wanted you to do a good job as such, Robb chose a terrible Queen to carry his memory with warmth.

The low bass of his voice rippled through the air and deep into your veins, having waited until it was only you two left until Jons warmth came up close next to you. “You want to tell me what's going on up here before I have to guess?” His hand gently reaching up to run through loose strands of your hair closest to him.

In a way you think you surprised him, the way which you so easily looked over with a softness that hadn't been there since earlier that day. Nails tapping mindlessly beneath on the table, no more then a gentle murmur was how loud you managed to get. “It's strange, looking back on those final days. It feels like it was so long ago I'm thinking back to a version of myself that doesn't even exist anymore.”

His hand still running through the strands, moving piece by piece more back over your shoulder or tucking strays behind your ear as he somehow was as patient as ever. “You aren't that same girl.” Narrowing your eyes, you looked up at him. Nothing in accusation or malice, just an almost too innocent look towards him in question. Jon moved his hand, now firmly running along the bulk of your hair behind your head. “We can't go back to who we were, and we can't change where we are now. No matter what happens, we stay together. All of us. Whether that includes Sansa one day or not.”

Eyes slipping closed as you exhaled, you would've moved your head away if his touch didn't feel so soothing. “The last time I even saw her, she was still just a girl. Naive and daydreaming..I don't think I want to imagine what kind of person Cersei or Littlefinger could've turned her into..”

Quiet sat between you both, Jon never let go of his touch against your hair as he smoothed along it, but it matched the weight in his voice that held not the same defeat. Leaning a bit more, imploring you to meet his brighter eyes. “We can't change that. You and I have been here long enough that she must know it's safe to come home by now. But that's where she is, and she still didn't come home, or even try to reach out to any of us..we can't force her to come back and be part of this.”

Jaw clenched, you couldn't stop hearing the way Stoneheart acted as if Jon sitting here as King was some great offence. As if he didn't try harder to be the person he was more then anyone left in these kingdoms. Scouring his own grey eyes, you sighed lightly before letting them fall to nothing on him in particular.

“You know not a single person out there would choose anyone else to rule them, right?” Brows narrowing a bit hoping to get an easy answer, but Jons silence was as unsure as you felt in your own mind personally. Sighing out, a hand of your own reached up finally, running over the facial hair at his jaw. The scratching coarseness raw against your palm even as one thumb reached up to trace what you could reach of his cheek. “They didn't choose you to be a King, they chose you to be their King They'll follow you no matter what, no matter who tries coming back here claiming for themselves. Half of those men denied pledging to my father even though they were trapped under the Boltons control. Robb was gone, I'm not even a Northerner, they could have said no. If they wanted anyone else to rule them, they wouldn't have wanted you in the first place.”

He was almost close enough his natural warmth took away any remaining chill in the night air, no matter the howling wind floating about outside the stone walls. “When I said no to being Lord of Winterfell, part of me didn't think I deserved it. That whoever was still out there should have it more then me, it was their birthright not mine. But now I'm more then that and not beacuse some Southern King said so.” Gently back and forth your thumb traced, almost letting the rest of your fingertips slide down to trace what you could of his neck too. “I don't want any of them to think I'm trying to take it away from them, but there's more to this now. They don't understand whats coming for us, what's at stake. If Arya or Sansa took over from me tomorrow, none of the free folk would listen to them, they'd still ally with me.”

“That's beacuse you know what it takes. If you're right, if he wants Sansa to be part of this, she isn't a leader, a ruler. Not even close to the way you are.” You were quiet for a moment before letting your face fall a slight bit. “I didn't realize before that none of you would've known about her marrying Tyrion Lannister. Would have perhaps been a little less mindless about it had I remembered.”

Jons face almost fell to something amusingly baffled, twisting as his head jolted back a bit. “I don't know if I can't picture that or I don't want to.” Nodding with him, he sighed out, glancing between you and nothing a few times before choosing a side of him internally.

Rather then another word getting out, Jon gently pulled you to him from his grip at the back of your head. Lips gently capturing yours, while his other hand draped along the side of your neck and collarbone. The hand along his jaw slinking behind his neck to better steady yourself leaning up to his kiss.

Always the one to gently guide you, you merely were to follow along as he deepened it before having the proper sense to just pull back. Slowly as each of your remaining breathe was stolen by him, did his hand drift down you side. Tracing along your waist before settling at your hip, curling as if to pull you to him, but without the commitment. Only pulling back enough each word brushed his lips still against yours. “Selyse told me what happened.”

Sighing, Jon didn't let you go, but allowed your head to drop slightly in his touch. His own moving to press his forehead against yours, the hand at your hair drifting to your cheek once more. Not altering where you were looking, just cupping your cheek as he kept you close. Barley a whisper leaving you, “I know it's a lot to ask, but I need you to trust me just this time. When I know what's really happening, I promise I'll tell you.”

“Next time you don't feel alright, you need to tell me. You scared me a lot today.”

You'd apologize if you thought he at all would accept such an thing. Instead, you let the quiet sit between you both until you nodded your head. Leaning up a bit more, stealing one more chaste kiss from his lips before you muttered, “This may happen more often.” You could feel his brows furrowing as you elaborated. “Lord Howland's son has this ability, and he said these sorts of dreams and visions can take a toll of ones health.” His grip on your cheek grew a little tighter as you felt his muscles tense so close to you. Your own scratching along the back of his neck almost in a soothing manner matching your voice. “Which means if I don't learn how to control this, it might get worse sooner.”

Jaw clenched, he almost indiscernibley shook his head no before tilting your head down again to press a kiss to your forehead. Whispering against you, “I want you by my side more for the next while.” Asking why, he tilted your head back up to meet his eyes. Bright and shining finally passed the sorrow of the days toll. “You really haven't figured it out yet?”

An amused grin fell over your lips as you pulled back from him slightly, “What's that supposed to imply, Snow?” Only a tilt of his head in lieu of a shrug was your response. A tender smile as bright as the grey lovingly in your eyes as well did you shake your head. Leaning back to his lips yourself muttering, “Unbelievable, you Starks are.”

More then once Sam had to draw Jons attention back, as if the man was tied between focused and utterly distracted. His eyes kept drawing themselves to the partially open door, looking out to where he could see you and Gilly, a book in front of her and so Little Sam had found himself asking to be held by you. Pacing a little around the table back and forth, guiding Gilly through what you were introducing as increasingly more complicated books to test her.

Still early enough in the morning, Little Sam had been dozing in and out, and currently was leaned right into your front with eyes barley open as you focused on both parties. Not once did you turn as distracted and catch anything close to where Jon was, but more then once he had to peel his eyes from you back to the matter at hand.

If he were to accurately go over the numbers in his head, it had only been around a fortnight and Jon had only known for half of that time. You wouldn't have a clue, but it was making him feel even more obsessive. Seeing you collapse the other day only made that feeling stronger, as if his heart begun to race now if you were out of his sight for too long.

Tearing them back, Jons hands perched on the table as the lot of them found themselves debating what it could mean. Tormund had confirmed that Mance had indeed been searching for the Horn of Winter and as they now stood looking at what seemed like it, the question of what to do with it plagued them.

Jons voice was a low rasp, a bit on the edge of agitated as he considered too what you had seen. “My Uncle might have given his life to hide this, I'm not letting him die in vein by burning it now.” That was the suggestion both Ser Davos and Lord Howland gave, but it didn't add up. “It's been hiding in my families crypt for thousands of years, if the best option was to destroy it why wouldn't they have done it already?”

Sam had most of the level head these days, almost every night he and Jon went over what he had learned and attempted to put it all together into something which made sense. Some of it did, some of it seemed as if any answer brought into the existence of too many new questions they didn't know as it was.

Tormund was the only other one here who truly understood what they were up against, a curious look as Ser Davos mentioned that he thought the red woman had it. Jon shook his head, but without much thought passed what he said, “I told her it was said to bring down the wall, and she burned it.”

A glance between them passed with the same idea in their minds, neither of them believed it then and certainly not now. Tormund rumbling out in a bemused tone, “Well she burned a horn, just not the right one. Mance had us digging for it, until one day he leaves and only when he comes back did he say he had found it, whether I believed him or not.” Jon's head dropped, that too late was beacuse his Uncle Benjen had arrived that night of the feast, and took it. As soon as he left Jon from their conversation in the cold, he likely went straight to the crypts before Mance could get it.

He could somewhat hear Theon asking, “What did he want with it in the first place?”

“He wanted the crows to think he had it, so he could blow the damn Wall down to their knees. Thought if no one's ever seen it, no one would know the difference. Then this one showed up.” Gesturing across the table to Jon. His own brows narrowing in question what that even meant, knowing at that point Tormund could read his expressions well as anyone. “Knew right away you didn't believe it was the real thing, means if you went back to the crows you'd call him on the lie if he tried using it to threaten his way through.”

Lord Howland asking why Mance would think Jon would go back and tell the Nights Watch but still let him travel with them. Jon had to think of the actual answer, don't think about any of the rest, he told himself. His time with the free folk was more complicated then her alone, but it felt as if everytime his memory was dragged back to those years it was all he could think and see.

Inhaling deeply, Jon stood straighter as his arms crossed over his front. “Ned Starks son is a bad enemy to have walk into your camp, but a good ally if you can convert him.” Trying to keep an even tone, as much as any of these men knew, none really understood. None of them could imagine why Jon struggled to look back to any of it.

Ser Davos, thankfully, interjected the spiral forming in Jons mind. “Not a smart gambler, he was. I don't think I've known any man to look at the Starks and think they'd turn their backs on their own.”

Jon and Theon shared only a single glance, but said nothing of it. It was the past now.

Whatever conversation brewed around him, Jon still found himself trapped in those days. The free folk had all talked endlessly and so much of it seemed as if they were only stories with no true understanding of any importance they may hold. Or what they meant. As if it wasn't until Hardhome did many understand what was at stake in truth.

When it slipped out, Jon knew he almost had to back up and reconsider what he even meant. “I don't think it brings the Wall down.” Glancing up to Sam, elaborating, “If the Wall was built with some kind of magic to protect it, why then make something that can tear it down? Why make it so easy?”

Something akin to realization passed over Sams eyes, looking to Tormund. “When they say it can bring down the Wall, does it say exactly that? Wherever it's written?”

A chuckle passing over the taller man, and an amusement in his eyes growing. “It's written nowhere, boy. Just stories we'd tell each other when there's nothing better to do.”

His own eyes squinting in a hint of thought, Jon caught onto the thought passing through Sam. The later man asking almost to himself, “Meaning it's possible it does something else entirely. After all, if it's that dangerous why hide it under Winterfell where there's this many innocent people?”

Flickering to the door and back again, trying to contain that feeling trying to rise back up, Jon almost shook the thoughts from his head. “If my Uncle didn't want anyone to find it, he wouldn't have buried it where he did.”

Your eyes drifted more then once to where they were all discussing things. Bright sun reflecting off the snow shined in the window as you paced slightly, peeling your gaze back to the now slumbering one fully resting against your front. Gilly breaking the quiet, “Do you want me to take him?”

Glancing with a raised brow, she specified because he was asleep. A soft smile fell over you however, looking down at him before returning to her. Pacing a bit closer. “I've helped raise a number of little ones over the years, but Sam here might be the most well behaved of them all so far.” Moving ever so carefully, you slunk into the seat adjacent to her. “As long as he's not crying, I can handle him, I assure you.”

Looking between the book in front of her, and you, there was a hesitation on Gilly's mind. Luckily for you, she was good at speaking in the quiet now. “How old were you? When you learned how to read?”

Inhaling as you leaned back a slight more comfortably, only did the vaguest of stretches in your mind reach that far off. “Around three I imagine it was. As soon as I was old enough to hold a quill, my father would have me spend the morning with our Maester reading the letters, and then in the afternoon he'd take me and have me write out everything I had learned before.”

Eyes a bit wider, you almost were envious of Gilly's mannerisms. How she still found intrigue in the world that came to her with such an ease. You weren't sure you had ever been like that. “And that's normal for you? South of the wall, to learn so early?”

Almost going to shrug a shoulder before the weight by it reminded you to stay put. “Maybe not that early for most, but learning young for highborns is normal. Most people though, plenty will go their entire lives without ever being able to read a single letter. They live in villages where all but none know how, so who would be there to teach them?” It was easy sometimes to forget that most of the world did not have the kind of privilege of learning. It came so naturally around the noble women and high Lords you grew up around.

Arms now perched along the top of the page, she narrowed her eyes with a flashing of not quite envy or even sorrow, but an accepted defeat. “I think my father knew how to read, but he never really told us beacuse he didn't want us learning and reading anything that the Nights Watch would come by with. I didn't used to know why, but maybe if we knew how to read he'd think we didn't need to rely on him.”

Glancing down slightly to Little Sam still fast asleep with a strain in tone, as you tried not to clear your throat, “Keep your lessons up, and you'll have more going for you then over half the people in Westeros. A woman who knows how to read is a dangerous thing.”

The smile on her almost bashful, it was so easy to see why she and Sam fit with one another. Both had a spirit about them that wasn't yet broken by the world. Despite everything giving them reasons too. She shrugged her own shoulders, looking back to the page. “Sam will be three next year, do you think I'll know enough I can start teaching him that early?”

The boy in question shifting slightly again, your hand moving along with him to gently lean his head more into the space between your shoulder and neck and running comfortingly down his back. “If we keep up at this rate, I don't see why you wouldn't be able to start trying. When you're more ready for it, I can have you start writing as well. You need to know the letters before you can write them, but they go hand in hand once you are used to both.”

Fluttering back and forth between focuses, you had Gilly read out the entire passage in her head before turning to you without looking and summarizing exactly what it is it said. The past few days especially she had gotten very good at it. Something you always recalled your father telling you, that you needed to be able to do more then read the words on a page. That if you could read them but not understand them, you're no smarter then the average fool.

“You know, you used to be good at hiding what you were feeling.” Face twisting in a confusion, Jon turned half way from where he stood near the door to look at the approaching Sam. Nodding to just out the partially open space, the clearest eyeline from where Jons stood ended right where you were sitting. “I thought you didn't want children.”

The willpower it took for Jon to remain impassive despite the way his heart threw itself about in his chest, was almost impressive. Looking at him with barley a change in expression but a bit more of a sternness, Jon turned to look right back. Voice quiet as to not distract or catch your attention. “I didn't want any child I had to be a bastard. I never said I didn't want them ever.”

The tone attached to Sams voice got on Jons nerves and both men were entirely aware Sam was doing it on purpose. Just to garner that agitation. “Alright, so you want children. You're a married man now, and you're King in the North. What's stopping you?”

“Nothing.”

His answer was quick enough that it had Jon glance only partially to the side as if to try and gauge if Sam had noticed, but not committing to truly finding out. Arms crossed as he shifted to lean against the book case behind him a little less obviously staring at you. Whatever was on Sams expression Jon didn't want to see it. “Does she know you want that?”

Jaw clenching, his head dropped a bit as the rest of his face twisted too into something a bit more siding of pain, and his voice strained the same. “It's not that simple for her. Her child was murdered while he was still growing inside her. It doesn't matter what I want, only that she's ready for it when the time comes.” Everyday he saw the scar across you, and he knew you still tried to look at it as little as possible.

No offence meant, and only Sam could say it so casually as well. “If I were her, I'd get pregnant just to get you to stop watching me like that.” Brows narrowed as Jon in mostly a jest, glared at him but Sam had nothing but more of it at the ready. “Oh, you're going to tell me you aren't obsessing over the idea of getting her pregnant? It's only a coincidence you've barley been able to focus today beacuse you're twenty feet away from her walking around caring for Little Sam like that?”

Sam's name coming out in warning and the glare only increased. But no lines were crossed that were anything but blatantly true. “I can do more then one thing at once.”

Comfortable silence passing only with the muffled sounds of the outside peaking through when Sam spoke up once again. “Last time I saw you, we all still thought she was dead. Then I come back, and you're already married to her. I can't even imagine what it must have been like, seeing her again after all that time. It makes sense to at least think about it.”

But something was deepening in Jons eyes, the grey tinting darker and darker as it twisted around his heart like an addiction. That part of Jon wished he had kept you with him that night in Castle Black, away from the rest of them, away from anything to remind you of what nightmare you escaped. And unable to stop the fantasy in his mind, of keeping you on his cock without stop. Of not returning to the living world until he filled you with life of his own.

Jon aggravatingly thinking that if he had, you'd be about ready to give birth by now. His hands clenched tight as his arms stayed crossed over his chest. Not the time, nor the place to think about this. He didn't have you alone, he wouldn't for hours. He couldn't think about what you'd look like at every stage being with his child. Something he once thought he'd never get a chance with you.

Whatever playing along the woman once did, was all but gone.

Nothing but a bitter spite was left, and a glint in her eye that never quite got over itself. Something in her which if smiled, felt as if it were creeping and meaningfully distrustful. In truth it was easy to see the affiliation between her and the Boltons.

A similar coldness in her eyes that stayed quiet and collected in an unbecoming manner. If this was once a pleasant woman, she had been long gone. All that was left was someone who had been brought into the room as she moved that as a snake. Slinking about without effort but lacking the grace to give her presence. Being brought in, she stayed quiet as if to play games of who goes first, but she was going up against an opponent who refused to see fit for playing along.

“How long have you been spying for Lord Baelish?”

Barbery Dustin was not well suited for captivity, and yet as she glared with a spite in her eyes towards Jon, she did not attempt in anyway to make this easy on herself. Her voice cold and even less held back of a resentment then before. “You mean to tell me you have put everything else together but the when?” It wasn't really a question, only a demeaning accusation of character she knew nothing about.

Stayed quiet by the back wall of the room, Theon trained behind where she was sat and two guards on either side of him, all eyes were on her. But it was the unblinking complicated stare of Jon which set off the most nerves. Any chance she had looking to you was met with the same degree of stoic unchanging firmness.

Voice low but with a confidence that wasn't anywhere near her arrogance, Jon barley moved an inch as he looked at her. “This won't go any better if you avoid answering my questions. You and I both know you're guilty, but I'm giving you the chance to tell the truth on your own.” She didn't look away not speak, and neither did Jon for the seconds to follow.

Instead of any irritation, as if expecting just this, Jon moved on. “Every raven you've sent and received from the Vale as long as you have been here has a written copy in Maester Wolkan's study. I know you've been in contact with him. A man who had already betrayed my father, your Liege Lord.”

A twist of her face made her look that much more unpleasant, swift to drop her tone to a judgment that came out with a ill tempered ease. “You think it is wise to blindly trust what it is he claims? A fools choice. If I were Queen, the first thing I would do, would be to kill all those grey rats.”

Raise of your eyebrow as you looked to her, an interesting mistrust. Grudges of houses were one, but it was not common Maesters in the general sense were the untrustworthy party. But you kept quiet, Jon wanted you there but this was his questioning. His prisoner. Jon however continued to frustrate her, not paying any mind to her attitude nor unnecessary insults. “I trust in people who have shown loyalty and respect. Maester Wolkan isn't here to lie or trick me. He's here, beacuse I trust him, and I trust the ravens scrolls he's shown me are true.”

Quiet followed just as it had when he gave her the same chances in front of far more of their own people. Now though, the quiet was inexcusable. Jon's voice cutting through like a blade in the tense air between them. “Was it always your intention to betray my family? Or did you take the first opportunity that presented itself after your King was already dead?”

Both Jon, and yourself knew her eyes flickered up to you but nothing was stated about it as such. Jon would get to that. One thing at a time. Peeling her eyes back, sharp and on their own edge did she speak out in just the same shortness. “If you wish to know whether or not there was a time you could have kept my loyalty, I am afraid you are far too many decades late. Your father saw to that.”

Your eyes narrowed as did the racing of blood in your veins, and if you felt that defence coming rushing to the forefront it was tenfold in Jon. But he was better at composing himself them most, hardly a twist in his expression and tint darker falling over his eyes, were you not one keen on what meant what on Jons face only the rougher deepness of his tone could give away that anger. “My father didn't drag your husband and great Uncle to war by force. They went of their own free will.”

Anger in her grew just as held back. “And yet he came back when they did not.” Jon once more specifying that wasn't his fathers fault, but they both stared at one another until she found the wrong string to pull at. Or in her mind, the right one. “He came back, Howland Reed came back, but what did I receive? Willam's stallion, not his body, just his horse. He had room to bring home a corpse and some whore's baby but not a man who died for him.”

You could see in an instant how tense Jons shoulders became even from here. Muscles no doubt screaming as was the noise in his head and before he had the chance to let it get to him, you broke for his sake, giving a chance for him to breath in quiet. If such a comment would be a sore spot once, it was something else entirely now. Louder then either of them had been and with a sharpness giving no room for interjection. “Tell me, Lady Barbery. Would your former lover take so kindly to you speaking about his family in such a way?”

Oh the way her eyes snapped up to yours, as if she was caught red handed. Her lie was not convincing in the slightest. “William was not relative to the Starks-”

Jon didn't move, and you would speak until your eyes could flicker down and see him on the side of calmer. “I believe I said lover, not husband. The man you felt cheated out of having beacuse he was promised to a woman who wasn't you. I ask again, do you think the way you want to remember Brandon Stark is to call the sister he died trying to save, nothing more than a corpse? Or to have sided with the man who murdered his nephew? Were I to take you down to the crypts this moment, could you truly say you would be able to even look at the statue of where he is buried with pride?”

You gave away even less to the woman then Jon had. Once more, it seemed few outside of the circle you already were close with, had no patience for such an unfeeling demeanour. Her glare far more furious then before. “Roose was following orders-”

Rough and once more full of a heavy weight did Jon force her eyes back to him. “Robb was his King. And he didn't murder him for anything but power and money. But the thing is, I can't see Tywin Lannister reaching out to him so directly. That's a risk going right to him about committing treason.” Leaning forward, it seemed as if his confidence dwindled her own the more he spoke. “If I go looking, will I find a trail of ravens from Kings Landing, to the Vale, to Barrowton and finally reaching all the way to Harrenhal? I'm willing to bet I would. Beacuse I think, Petyr Baelish played you right into his hands to give Roose Bolton an offer.”

That time she looked away. Nowhere to go or distract herself with. Just the quiet as if forcing her to reflect on where she was, what she needed to say or not say. How far was she willing to fight this when there were no more secrets of it? That time you spoke, but softer. “You approached Roose Bolton about betraying Robb Stark, and then in turn when he needed to smuggle me into the North undetected, you helped him to do so. He was married to your sister, you were fond of his firstborn son, it's understandable you wouldn't want to turn him away.”

Not being able to see the narrowing in his eyes slightly, you missed how Jon seemed taken back by the sympathy, even moreso as you continued. “So you convince Lord Roger to side with the Boltons, but you and I both know Ramsay, my lady. He murdered your nephew, and then he murdered your only real ally in the North.”

Tilting her head suspicious to the side, she asked in a whisper nearly, “How did you know about Domeric?”

Your eyes found Theon in silence and unease. If there was anything Ramsay did more of then torment, it was talk endlessly. Putting it all together now, it was no wonder Roose having a son with Walda was a threat. He likely poisoned Roose's first trueborn son in the first place. No wonder he was so violent about getting you back, Ramsay had always sought more power and positions then he ever deserved. Long before Robb Stark's widow was there to be forced to birth a Bolton heir.

“Lady Barbery,” Jon catching her focus once more. “Whatever the grudge you held against my father, you still were once someone my Uncle Brandon cared about. It's for his sake I'm giving you a chance to be honest with me. Tell me what you know. All of it.”

She was quiet, eyes looking through him at you before focusing once more. Sitting straight as she could, face impassive and cold as ever. “I will share what it is I know, but only if they leave.”

Only from what you could see did Jon give a single nod, and you looked up to beckon Theon over without further question. “Come on, give them the room.” Her eyes met yours only for a few final moments, in a way maybe you could've felt pity, but you knew Jon struggled to grace her with that as well.

She had one more thing to say though, calling out to you with something unreadable in her eyes. “Tell me, your grace, do you miss them? Those hounds of Ramsays? You were awfully fond of them.”

You said not a single word before you left.

It had felt like years ago again, thinking herself back to the day Barbrey Dustin walked the hall of her Keep towards the main gates. She was to expect two arrivals, but this first was far before the second would ever arrive. Receiving word from her brother in law, he and the remainder of their bannermen would be making their return home but would take more time then expected.

As she stepped out into the brisk air as men yelled to open the gates, a group of horses rode in with the sigil she had long grown accustomed to within her life. Men she knew, many she did not care to learn the names of, and yet her eyes looked to one thing then the other. Dragging along a cage now covered up from any sight, she knew something not of the plan had occurred, and she did not greatly appreciate surprises at that point.

But her eyes, dark and stern as if a smile had not graced her face in decades withheld whatever existed of ire of the sight. She was large, but Barbrey knew she would be. Young, but she did not care of what age men took for wives when not her business. What she cared about, was that this new wife was in her home at all. But she would play nice.

Allowing them to approach her, neither her nor he bothered with formalities. She and Roose Bolton went far back enough that this Walda was likely still a babe then. “My lord.”

Curt as always, and he returned in his normal flat nature. Turning to the girl, “Walda, this is Barbrey Dustin. An old friend.” Thinking to herself, so he was keeping it simple in front of her. Good she thought, let her be ignorant.

The girl gave a naive hello, as with only a nod in return Barbrey turned to the servants waiting behind her. “Tend to the horses. Assure they are fed, watered and rubbed down. And show Lady Walda to one of our guest chambers.” One of the maids passing her by, guiding her into the Keep, Barbrey did not presume that time to hide the snide manner in which her eyes narrowed. Following the girls path until she was no longer in sight. Flickering them to then the cage and back she stepped forward as her tone lowered. “I presume that is the issue you wished to speak with me about?”

Only a nod, he kept it as even as she did. “Our situation has changed.”

Settled a bit more, walking into her study Barbrey dismissed the servants already inside. Closing the door leaving mostly firelight to illuminate her preferably hidden away room. She had known Roose enough to not even bother with a drink other then water, he was insistent about his lack of consuming anything of an alcoholic nature.

It had been one of the first things Barbrey's sister Bethany had shared about her new husband many years ago. Her husband's strange tendencies, but her sister never seemed to be deterred by it so Barbrey took up the same mantle. Placing it in front of him as she faced his sitting position, she was in little mood for whatever this was.

“I do not appreciate being blind sighted that you wish to use my city as your personal smuggling route.” He begun with an insistence that was not the case, but Barbrey raised an eyebrow. “No? So you are not hiding what you have dragged into my home, other then your young wife.”

Hardly twitching at all, “I wouldn't have expected you to care about such differences in age.”

“Perhaps Roose you could place yourself in my position. I inform you I will be coming into your home uninvited, needing something discreetly handled, after being gifted a brand new title with the lands I killed a King and a Queen for, and offer you nothing but inconveniences when I arrive.” The stare went on for some time, both well knowing she would not fold before any else.

Raising his head a slight bit he elaborated. “I need something smuggled with me to the Dreadfort. Something that cannot be taken on any main paths or go through anywhere near a populated area.” Asking what this item would be, she did not expect the answer. “The Queen.”

Barbrey narrowed her eyes as her tone shifted to something akin to a lecture. “You brought a rotting corpse into my home-”

“She's alive.”

Nothing but wind was heard from the outside walls. That was not the arrangement, she did not pass on such information with such risk for him to fumble arguably one of the most important aspects. Were she a woman to fly off the handle, she'd have dove right into a lecture to him for his irresponsibility. Killing Robb Stark was one thing, but the entire purpose of killing the Queen in the North first, was because she was carrying his child, his heir. “I don't believe keeping her alive and with a son in her womb was part of the instructions given to you.”

He only kept his calm towards her held back ire. “I did kill her.”

Once more her irritation flared up. Taking a step closer as if speaking to a child looking down at him. “If she is alive, then you did a poor job of killing her, didn't you?”

But what he said was odd. “I did kill her, Barbrey.” Taking pause she tilted her head in confusion. Roose stood up slowly explaining his position. “I stabbed her in the stomach, three times. Tore her womb open significantly enough that she bled to death within a minute. No pulse, no heartbeat, no life in her eyes, not even anything in the way of blood left when I was finished with her.” Still Barbrey did not move. “She was as dead as the King, and yet when I returned to the hall some time later, she was alive. Unconscious, but alive, and she has been ever since.”

Something unnerved sat within her chest. Such a feat was impossible. “I presume Tywin Lannister has not heard this story.” Ensuring only he, the small garrison of men with him and now her knew about it.

“I need to get her into the Dreadfort unseen, unknown, before the North has a chance to hear she's alive. Before the Starks hear shes alive.” As she told him sternly that the Stark men were all dead, Roose rose only an eyebrow before passing her by.

Moving further into her study, she turned to follow with shortness on her tone. “Theon Greyjoy killed the two Stark boys, there is no one left to support her-”

He had not turned to face her, but was looking at whatever bit of information kept out on her desk he felt entitled to glance at. “Robb Stark has a bastard brother at Castle Black. From what I have gathered he and the girl were extremely close. If she is the only survivor of the night which killed the rest of the family-”

It came out suddenly but with an anger she knew he did not understand. “A massacre you mean to call it.” Roose looked at her with a curiosity at her change in tone, and she stepped further into his proximity to now prominently speak down to him. “You did not loose men that night, Roose. I did. My men. Do not speak of it as if the Starks were the only casualty. You lose no men while I lose many, and then you drag the Queen into my home telling me I need to help smuggle her into the Dreadfort? For what purpose?”

The problem was he was right, and it frustrated her to no end over it. Roose knew she despised that bastard of his, he himself never denied her suspicions that that Ramsay Snow had killed Domeric, her own nephew. Roose and Bethany's own son, but he kept the vile thing around and was parading him around the North now as if he was always meant to stand in Domerics shoes.

But he could not be ensured Walda would deliver him a son, and even if she did, the boy would not be of suitable marrying age to tie him to you for far too long to wait. He had the Queen in the North alive, secretly in his grasp and he intended not to waste such an opportunity. But he could not smuggle her there alone, which was why he was here. Why Barbrey was expected to put up with his new wife which was not her sister, and eat what precious food from her own harvest she had.

She had to be sure though. The dead of night the two made their path to where the cage was being kept as both dismissed Locke watching guard over her. Low words spoken between as to not carry in the night wind. “If the Lannisters are not considering the bastard as dangerous, why should we? If he is at Castle Black, what is he to do with the knowledge his sister in law is alive?”

Roose picked at a sore spot on purpose. “How many Starks do you know Barbrey, that take threats to those in their family lightly?” Her glare spoke many volumes, they both knew that was uncalled for but he said it anyways and she would remember it.

The coverings were lifted, and the sight was something she had never seen. Barbrey almost did not recognize her as a person. Utterly soaked in blood she could not even tell what colour her gown was meant to resemble in the first place. Lifting enough to show the wounds now littering her womb her eyes went wide as the rest of her frowned at the brutality. Not a man to spare a single mercy she knew Roose was, but it did give credence to his words.

No. Bastard or not, none of Stark blood would take kindly to this kind of sight being carved into a person they cared about. But feeling the pulse now existing as well as the faint sight of breathing moving up and down in her chest, Barbrey knew that this was indeed a secret needed to be kept tightly bound.

Perhaps it was why as she agreed to help smuggle the Queen in the North across to the Dreadfort, did she also withhold the information that she was still in contact with the man who brought her into such plans in the first place. Or that she would withhold this information from Lord Petyr Baelish in return.

Staring at the sight of the living, blood soaked body of their Queen, Barbrey had felt a strange feeling that the future was not anywhere near as promised to be fruitful as the men in her lives full of deception wished it was going to be.

And sitting across from that same bastard, now King in the North with you alive and married at his own side, she perhaps begun to finally feel the resentment for Roose Bolton. She should have turned him away the moment he dared ride into her home with a young wife at his side that was not Bethany.

But now the Boltons were dead and Barbrey was not. Perhaps she thought as she sat across from Jon Snow, that honesty this time, might be the only way to ensure he would not sentence her to a fate which would have her finally join all the dead which came before.

“You think she'll tell him the truth?”

Inhaling deeply you forced yourself to remain calm, not to let the scorching horror seep too deeply and from the way Theon walked just as tense you both were one in the same. “She has no allies left, and by now word likely has already reached Barrowton. The only family she has is in Lord Willam's brother, and he's been nothing but loyal to Jon since the fight against Ramsay. But everyone else here knows what she's done now. She has nowhere else to hide.”

Glancing at the other, once more you could read how easily you were each walking around the actual subject as he asked with a rough clearing of this throat. “She's still an ally of Littlefinger.”

But you shook your head, stern voice with no room for doubt. “Littlefinger doesn't have allies. Only friends he fakes until they are no longer of use. And with the North knowing what she's done, Barbery Dustin is an inconvenience to him.”

These very halls were almost the problem, it was ones you and Theon both had spent so many years in but also the ones faking themselves as home in horror. If you truly thought on it, most places you had called home were always filled with it, with pain and trauma.

It was inescapable your whole life.

The warmth around was the only solace you found for quite a while as you were there. Just enough steaming water that you could handle it, and quiet around to soothe the grating beat in your head that persisted. Somewhere in the back of your mind you noticed the sound but nothing really came to you until the warmth in the water was almost overtaken by above.

A large figure learning down from behind where you sat in the water as a hand slunk around your front, palm resting along your collarbones to pull you back better. Your own head tilting back somewhat as the feeling of Jons lips finding the top of your head came to you, his curls brushing down along your skin as his other hand tilted you by your jaw somewhat to him.

Your hand reached back with a sigh leaving you, running through the strands as you could, eyes slipping closed at how even in muffled mumbles, Jons voice still found a way to entrance you. “Is it too much to ask, I come here at the end of the day and find you like this more often?”

Trying to turn to see him a bit better, but not quite being able to move beyond his hold. Soft your tone came out as if not to disturb the quiet peace between you both with a hum. “Not quite sure, sacrificing the peace and quiet for your company? A hard decision, your grace.”

Putting gold on it, you'd be willing to bet Jon playfully rolled his eyes as he leaned his head better to find your neck, pressing his lips there with only a feather lightness. Breath warm as he mumbled into you, “What if I made it a command?”

A breathy laugh left you on a whim, pulling a far more comforting sounding chuckle as from Jon as he sung it right back. Your tone that time only genuine in an affectionate want, “I don't prefer the water as scolding hot as you do, so I'd suggest joining sooner rather then later before it's cold by your standards.”

Another laugh into you followed by a much longer left kiss to your neck, your eyes slipped shut with almost a sigh as soon as Jon pulled away. Heart longing in your chest to plunge out and reach back for him as you felt him stand.

It almost was intimidating, having nothing to see. Only the sounds of clothes being pulled off, and your nerves festering about as you waited for Jon to do or say anything. Once he may have gently prompted you to move up for him, but by now, Jon had little care for waiting. Climbing in right behind you, Jon grasped at your hips under the hot water and lifted you somewhat up and back into his chest.

Only sitting you back down at his front before one of those hands slipped along the skin. Fingertips tracing along your stomach until laying flat and soothing on your scar. Pulling back for you to rest your head back by his shoulder, as the other hand of his rose up. Resting ever so carefully at the base of your neck only enough to prompt your head to tilt so he could better keep his dark eyes on you.

Your eyes closing as he leaned down to your space, nudging your nose with his before cupping your jaw to keep you there long enough. But only with a tease, a kiss so barley there you may have otherwise imagined it had he not spoken, hot breathe flashing along your skin to follow. “Are you sure you're alright?”

Exhaling deeply, you kept your eyes closed. Unwilling to look at what you knew on him was far too much worry bright in his eyes. For a while he didn't move even as you shifted to face forward once more, just kept you at bay against him in the water before you found a softer voice. “I know you don't like these visions, but you cannot pretend they don't exist. I'm having more of them and more then once it's like we've been in the others dreams when they happen.”

Hands rising up from the water, you slowly moved one along his arm by your neck, before he moved, grasping your hand best he could from that angle. The other resting just along his wrist, should you press your thumb down you'd feel his pulse, every so slightly faster anytime he had you like this. Rasping in your ear, an insecurity hinting in what he said. “We had them before, but it was easier when I thought it was only me. Then I saw you that day, knew you were looking right at me and I know what you thought you saw.”

Not quite relaxing was the word, but certainly using him more for any support you needed to keep as upright as he wanted. “I knew you had every right to move on, we didn't even know if we'd ever see each other again. But, seeing it firsthand was..I only ever had dreams before. That was the first time I saw anything awake like that..so I knew I couldn't pretend it wasn't real.”

He sighed deeply, moving his head down to find your neck almost as if hiding there. Muscles behind you against your back tensed, as did the hand holding yours. Only slightly did you move your head, back a nudge against him almost the way Ghost would do so in his own managing of comfort. The hand on your scar almost tightened enough it didn't pass your notice before he roughly hissed out, “When I came back to Castle Black and Sam told me about you and Robb, I was so mad. At the Lannisters, the Boltons, the Freys, all of them. But I was also so mad you saw that, saw her. I thought you died thinking I didn't love you anymore.”

Lie, a small voice whispered inside you. Lie and comfort him, but would he want that? Would Jon believe you if you did? “I did.” If he could have hidden himself in your neck more, Jon would've managed it. Your grip on his own hand tightened, and hardly a sound would be heard if not mere feet way from you both. “I hated that I would think about you when Ramsay would...” Your eyes slipping shut as your lungs tightened enough it strangled the waters behind your eyes. “I'd think of anything we did all those years ago, and I'd hate it beacuse I knew you had forgotten about me. I didn't even know if you still cared.”

Brows furrowing, Jon raised his head to look at you, a rough drop in his throat as he couldn't decide on feeling angry and offended or horrified at the thought. “I never wanted you to see her. I never wanted you to see any of it. I didn't go to the Wall thinking I'd get over you one day.” If he'd ease up on how tight his arms held you, a temptation swam through your veins asking you to turn around to see him properly. But Jon was stronger and more stubborn then that. “None of the things you've seen, dreams, visions whatever they are, they've never done anything but hurt you. They're still hurting you, only now I have to watch.”

Your whisper was faint against the temperamental way Jon was holding himself back. “And it isn't going to stop.” He was quiet, heavy breaths dancing along your skin at your neck. “They're getting stronger for a reason, Jon. I can't ignore them, I won't.”

“Why?”

Rasping harsh against you, you felt his urge to raise his voice against not wanting you to think he wanted to shout at you. Your hand moving enough in his, to run your thumb just along the back of his hand, a soothing back and forth that didn't help. “I came back for you. Whatever brought me back, did so, for you. To bring you back, fight beside you, and now whatever this is, is happening to me so that I can help you.”

You heard him quite muffled, and too indistinguishable to sense the feeling behind. “I don't care-”

Somehow, your gentle tones were louder then his muffles. “Thoros has the power he does, beacuse he's meant to use it to help Lord Beric. That's his purpose. And I won't ignore that mine is you.” He repeated himself, albeit a bit louder but you fought against the tense hold around your frame. “How much death we're surrounded by, and the only two people who have ever brought someone back to life, are in the same place as the only people who've ever been the ones to come back. But I can't just whisper words and bring the dead back, instead I have whatever this is and if-”

Grip around you tight, Jon pulled from his hold as the edge against your ear raised with his anger, and cracking with something painful unable to hide behind it. “I don't care about any of that.” Jaw clenched as his words hissed in your ear as if offended by every word you had just spoken. “Winter is coming and it isn't going to stop for us to figure out whose special and why. I didn't come back for any fate, I came back beacuse you brought me back. And I don't care about wasting my time figuring out what that means to anyone else. I'm fighting to protect my people, and my family where I couldn't before. Don't ask me to put you at risk just so I can figure out how to stop all of this a little bit faster.”

“Jon-”

Interrupting you, his tone dropped from a yell down to a rasp as his head rested against the side of yours. “You don't matter to me because you could be useful. You matter beacuse I love you, I always have been in love with you, and now that you're my wife you want to sit here and justify to yourself why I do.” Stripping you down to your bare frame, even moreso then the physical one sitting before him, your blood slowed down until it came to a dramatic stop. As did your lungs, no air leaving your slightly parted lips as his grip around you tightened once again. “You're right, I can't stop these visions from happening to you, but don't ask me to help make them worse.”

Pushing up enough, you slightly turned your head to see the curls by your side vision as your breathless ask sounded almost meek in comparison to him. “I'm sorry.” Sighing deeply, Jon almost read your own mind, moving his hands to your hips, prompting you to turn to face him.

Settling you gently in his lap, while one hand cupped your cheek as he sat up to better reach your perched height. His eyes far softer then the grating scold just given to you, bright and wide and so easy to read you could melt. “You were a Queen longer then I've been a King. You've proven yourself enough, let me catch up at least.” A hint of a smile twitched in your lips, but Jon caught every single moment of it. A brighter shine in his own as a gentle smile did fall over his own. “How about, you tell me when you see something, and we handle it then, but not before. I'm protective about you enough.”

Your hands draped along his shoulders, one dancing your fingertips up to scratch gently along the facial hair covering his jaw. Inhaling deeply, you held back the very worry you knew he could sense. Nodding your head, you leaned a bit closer to his warmth. Jon letting the hand on your cheek slink to keep you stable pressed against the top of your spine. “I think the word protective might be underselling yourself a little.”

Expression on him changing none, the same brightness as he used the leverage of his hold to pull you closer. “Choose any other word, but they're all the same thing to me. Winter is getting closer then everyone thinks, and I'm not about to start easing up on how much I want to keep you safe when it gets here.”

Heart was too light, as if it was ready to rise from your chest and fling itself into his possession. Leaving a trail of only need and a lightheadedness in it's wake. “If this is you being obsessed, I can't imagine how you could possibly get any worse.”

A handsome smirk fell over his face, eyes narrowing playfully as he toyed with the hair loose down your back. “Not much of an imagination, you have.” A small laugh left you, telling him that was a given and it only brought out even more of what you adored across him. Such a bright and easy laugh that you would do anything to see and hear the rest of your life.

Slinking to rake through your hair with more of a hold, Jon pulled you down the remaining distance as he leaned up to brush gently against your lips with his. Words coming out as a husk, with his dark eyes almost hooded as he looked to them, down further and back. “Just wait until the day I get to bring you out to our people, and tell them you're the mother of my child. You won't be able to leave my sight then.”

His eyes growing greedier, he no doubt caught the flush travelling up from between your legs, along your chest and spreading across your face as your nails dug into his shoulders more. Something inside your head almost begging you to submit as if it was all you were good for, but you resisted.

He liked when you were patient.

Though, it was unmistakable that he could drift his gaze down and see your bare chest for him heaving just a little more as your breathing grew faster. Only a whisper against what was a beaming shine of confidence in his touch, words and gaze. “Whatever you want.”

Roughly, Jon forced your lips to meet in the middle. Wrapping an arm around your back to pull your lower half in the water firmly against his hips, but keeping your lips right against his at no mercy but what he chose or did not chose to give you. Rough and deep in an instant, Jon just barley felt you pressing against his cock before he bit at your bottom lip.

Hand twisting your hair to serve at his call, Jon ran his tongue along yours and tasted inside of your mouth with a growl forming in his chest. Pulling you down into his kiss as much as he could, the whimper leaving you as already you felt that breathlessness dizzying, which made his cock throb. Hard as he could be and yet if something could make him even harder, it was such an innocent sound contrasted to how he touched you.

Hands tangling in his curls, his own drifted from around your back to forcing your hips up against his with a hand spread roughly across what he could reach of your ass. Fingertips digging into the plush skin, and another whimper much needier this time was gifted into his kiss, forcing another growl in his own chest.

It hadn't been brought up since, but you knew too well Jon was tied between two things. Wanting to sink deep inside your cunt like the wolf he was, and turning you around then and there and reliving how cruel it felt to pound into your ass so roughly. One was an addicted, obsessive instinct that was driven by something far more feral, while the other was something much more perverse and debauched that before him, was something you never would have even considered wanting.

He started so gentle too, but by the end he was so lost in the feeling, so far gone that unlike the Jon you knew, he had all but shoved you onto your hands and knees. Desperately needing the leverage from such a hold to pound his cock inside your ass so roughly that it brought tears, and yet your moans of confusing pleasure to mix with his grunts. Something about how much he let loose that night, something inside of you almost craved it again.

You wanted to be good for Jon, but you also wanted him to use you for what you knew, was a multitude of dark and utterly dishonourable ways he desired to fuck you. Wrapping your arms more around his shoulders and back, Jon grasped your waist to keep your bare breasts pressed against his torso, still not a hint of leaving your lips alone to gasp for air.

Finally as he tore from your lips, swollen and shining both of yours did he press your hips into him even more as he moved to your neck. Biting and licking and sucking a bruise into the now bite dented skin, you knew if he were more selfish he'd have pulled you down onto his cock already. But perhaps, it was for the best.

Considering that the next loud sound to emerge in the room was not from either of you. It was a knock to his chamber door. Pausing, Jon grasped your waist as he pulled back somewhat. Grey eyes almost black as he looked up at you, the innocent, overwhelmed need in your own eyes just made his cock throb between you again.

Then the next knock welcomed itself, along with the guards voice calling out. “Samwell Tarly to speak with you, your grace.”

The grip on you Jon had tightened to the same degree his jaw clenched it was almost funny. Muttering in a low hiss as his eyes peeled from your eyes, down your frame, soaked from the water and perfect for him, “I'm going to kill him.”

If that wasn't enough, the ease in which you let out a high pitched giggle once more, made his cock scream so much more to ravage you. His eyes forced themselves closed likely you knew to calm down his racing heart, a few deep breaths leaving him as well. Your hands gently ran down his curls to tame the more obvious mess you had started to put it in before he collected himself enough.

Surging up, Jon moved you with him, yanking you up and out of the water. Your hands braced against his shoulders to steady yourself as he muttered for you to wait. The cold air chilling against your bare skin enough to shiver by the time Jon returned. Having yanked on pants only enough to cover himself modestly, Jon wrapped something around you. Short and a dark silk like fabric to cover you too just enough.

Many men would have taken it with intimidation. The aggressive and short tempered manner in which Jon yanked the door open enough only he could be seen. “What?”

Sam's head jolted back just a bit. Many emotions scattered across his face as he took in the subsequent scattered scars of fatal nature littered about Jons torso. From an unsettled devastation at what he had never known took place before, to a slow realization of just why Jon had opened his door in such a state of undress when it was entirely unlike him.

“Oh...Oh.” From a short knowing sound, Sam devolved it quickly to that of an exaggerated mocking of pride for what he interrupted. Adding insult to injury, the same mocking as he asked “Bad time?”

It truly was a testament of how close the two men were, the degree to which Jon aggressively wanted to slam the door in his face and Sam taking full advantage of how he knew he wouldn't. “What is it, Sam?”

Waggling his eyebrow a bit, “I don't mean to interrupt, I just thought there was something you should know..but if you're busy..”

A heavy exhale left Jon as he closed his eyes. Words clear, and loud and short he was as controlled as he could be, considered how close he had gotten with you. “It can't wait until tomorrow?”

It was an amusing stand off. Jon, who was too honourable to actually force Sam to go away, and Sam, who was too much like a brother to Jon to give up taking advantage of that for his amusement. “I mean, it isn't life or death at this very moment, but it is important. Though, I suppose you were deep in something rather important as well.”

You had to turn away, covering your mouth to keep the laugh so desperately wanting to slip out from making it all the worse for Jon as it was. “Sam-”

“No, I understand. You're busy. I'll be where I always am if you find the time, if not I can always come back bright and early first thing.” You'd feel bad for how little Jon couldn't catch a break, if it weren't also terribly funny. Judging by the look you shared with Sam as you, once much more modestly dressed, followed Jon out, you both found a new shared activity. Having the innate ability to annoy Jon, with the advantage that he won't lash out for it.

The hand pressed at the small of your back the entire time however, spoke not of affection, but in how much Jon was going to tear everything off of you the second he closed his chambers door once more. A hint of just how roughly he was going to take you for enjoying his suffering, over and over until it was you the one begging for mercy.

Knowing Jon well enough, when his cock was deep inside of you, he had no mercy.

“I was thinking about what you said, about the horn being left for a reason.” Animated in his findings, there were many pages of what he had been transcribing laying about as well, moreso then you had seen that morning. “But I started wondering, what if only certain people can use it. If it's that dangerous then you're right, leaving it in Winterfell seems risky, but what if your ancestors kept it here, because they're the only ones who could use it?”

Brows narrowing, you stood next to Jon, looking over the work scattered about trying to see at the same time anything which way stand out. Jon asking, “Why would they make it so only House Stark can use it?”

“Well, you don't think it takes the Wall down the way everyone says. Maybe it's not for that though, if it took down the Wall it means your ancestors made something that destroys any defences they built themselves. That didn't make sense, so I started to wonder what else it would be used for. But what if it's similar to the way we use the horn at the Wall? What if somehow they used it to communicate something?” Your eyes flickered up, question on both your lips as he elaborated once more. “Think about it, we used a horn to communicate at the Wall, and everything you described makes it sound like they're not unlike us. They have people, ranks, they communicate but we can't with them..what if you're ancestors found a way through whatever this does?”

Nodding a bit, his eyes squinted as he grabbed it from where Sam stood opposite of him. Turning it slightly as you leaned more to his side to look it over. You asking quietly, “How would that end up turning to a story where it destroys the Wall?”

Jon had a quick answer to that. “Same reasons why we know next to nothing about the Long Night. No one's ever translated the runes of the First Men to our written language. So the story gets passed down until there's nothing left to learn from.” Putting it down gently, Jon affirmed they needed to figure out exactly how it works and quickly.

You were quiet, eyes trained on the horn with little more then a mutter. “How can we be sure it's even possible? Doesn't seem like they've tried peaceful negotiation before.” Gently you felt a slightly movement of his hand on your lower back, more of a massaging pressure at the wavering uncertainty in you.

Jons voice more gentle with you on an instant then with Sam, much to the later ones enjoyment. “They understand each other. They talk, even if we can't understand them. Means, they know language the way we do. Even if all they want is to kill us all, I want to know why. I want to know what we're dying to defend against.”

Words fluttered around you, but your eyes were trained on the horn. The bronze around each end with runes carved, you couldn't help but look between four of them. All desperate which did not stand out yet you kept looking at them. The way they were carved almost looked like something you'd seen before even though you couldn't place it.

Eyes drifting up to the papers about his desk, the images passed in your mind. Once only in dreams thought to mean nothing, next in a sight before your eyes not belonging to you but you knew them all the same. Cold and ice and crackling you couldn't stop seeing it and hearing it gathering around you as it went dark until your eyes had opened belonging to you once more.

You had seen it before. Moving quick, you paced around to a better angle of Sams desk as you grabbed paper and ink. The horn and transcribing both, you pulled them to you as Jon called your name in question. Shaking your head to let you think, both watched you looked between all three, penning something into the paper of an image.

“They attacked your brothers at the Fist of the First Men, and when you came across it Jon, you said the horses were scattered around in a symbol?” Asking in quick tones without yet looking up.

Coming around, an arm somewhat across your back as it to keep you between him and the desk as you leaned over it, Jon subsequently leaned over your shoulder. “Mance said that they had left symbols like that before. When they attacked people, some of the bodies get left behind on purpose.” Catching Sam up to speed on what it was he saw that day, leaving out the overwhelming fact that it was in fact that day, that Jon hadn't known if anyone he cared about there survived.

And the fear he felt having to pretend he didn't care in front of them.

You kept drawing, “Another attack on a small group of your rangers, they found a group of free folk they were tracking and found them the same way but in a different form. Like this.” Finally standing up proper, you looked to Jon with wide eyes. “The one you saw did it look anything like either of these?”

Leaning back down, Jon narrowed his eyes before motioning to one of them. “There. The spirals, that's how the horses were mutilated.” Looking to the other before finding your eyes, both of you with something unsure in them that did not hide. “That's what you saw?” You nodded, and Jon tilted his head a bit, hand coming back more along your waist to your back once more as you inhaled deeply.

Nerves coming through you. Looking to Sam, “Do you think you can find out what these symbols put together mean?” But instead of a curiosity, Sam had the same expression.

Only, for a different reason. “I could..but..I've seen those too.” Jons head snapped up to Sam in question, “It wasn't like that, not on any dead bodies..but I've seen those symbols before. In fact I've only ever seen them somewhere very specific.”

As Jon asked where, the answer was very clearly not at all what he was expecting.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine

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mlarayoukai · 11 months ago

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Okay so the thing with turn base jrpgs mobile gachas is the gacha format isn't suitable for jrpgs. When you first download a gacha they're usually pseudo-generous and give you at least one super powerful character in the beginner gacha. They give you a lot of gacha currency when you first start playing so maybe you'll get lucky and pull another ussrs or a few usrs or whatever the game calls them. And more often than not, you don't actually play the game to level up your character you feed them shit to level them up. You early on you sweep through the game because you have level 50 characters fighting level 15 enemies. Dopamine to some, maybe. But I'm just tapping whatever move is the most powerful with no thoughts and it's boring. And then there's the other side of the gacha coin. You may not like the gameplay but you enjoy the story and characters! You've gotten a few chapters in! But you can't beat the chapter boss because you can't pull the banner characters and of course spending money is off the table. Or typically, you're forced to use the ugly ass character who you pulled who has the specific attack that stuns the enemy. In well designed turn based rpgs, none of these are problems. Well maybe the ugly character you're forced to use is. But sweeping the early game or getting stuck at a certain point isn't, you can easily look up what to do. I do think mobile games have there place, but turn based rpgs is the easy way out for devs. "is this about (name of gacha here)?" it's about all the boring ass games I've played, fgo, pokemon mastersex, cr kingdom, probably a few I'm completely forgetting exist. Yeah I know it's pay to win, I ain't fucking stupid, but it's still boring as hell to sweep through everything. Do you want me to peg you tonight

#rob.txt

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thesaddhatter · 6 months ago

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Upsides of shadow slave,

The story will draw you in with the first chapter and will not let go

You can’t just skip chapters thinking you can predict the plot, it will send you curve ball after curve ball,

It is the first story in years that I can actually have fun making predictions about and still be satisfied if I’m wrong

The chapters are rather short, but so full of double meanings and information that sometimes it takes months to digest it all

The filler isn’t useless and actually fills out the character’s personalities and goals,

Every minute is spent wisely

If guiltythree (the author) had a gun collection, their favorite would be Chekhov's

The canon ship for the MC is based

Downsides

This story is slowburn, and by slowburn I mean that the MC doesn’t even think to admit that he might be in love with the love interest until the 1500th chapter

If it weren’t for his comic relief tendencies (AE being the chew toy of fate) he would be an annoying Gary Stu protagonist who never loses a battle*,

(*please note, this is only true because of the fact that any and all battles he is in are life and death, for entirety of the series, so it doesn’t actually feel like he wins every fight he has, and he certainly struggles when not in the right mindset, or facing an opponent who is way stronger than him, and does actually lose on occasion, it’s just most of his fights are effortless)

If you try to skip ahead even one chapter, be prepared to be more lost than a boat in a desert,

Sunny (the MC) has had at least some romantic implications with every member of his cohort, the issue isn’t that it’s harem, it’s that none of them ever go anywhere, sunny has chemistry with all of them, I could see him with any of them, but nope, we are only teased, mocked, backstabbed, and bafoonorized….

This shit is longer than one piece so, be patient

To understand even half of the messages detailed in this story, you need to actually read it, and I know that can be a definite downside of the ‘no reading comprehension’ website

(Just one of the many reasons the fandom is so small smh)

Do not. Under any circumstances. Read. The. Wiki.

Ok that’s my list for all of my personal ups and downsides for Shadow Slave, I give this work of wonder a 10/10

#shadow slave #sunny #nephis #shadow slave spoilers #sunless #rating: m #very gory story #very descriptive #horrors: incomprehensible

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hyuuukais · 10 months ago

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.・゜-: ✧ :- FICTIONAL REALITY .・゜-: ✧ :-

pairing • bang chan x fem reader

synopsis • fiction or reality? y/n preferred the former, escaping into another world, escaping her problems. so what happens when reality takes that away from her; wiping her own story-in-progress off both her laptop and beloved usb? and what happens when she opens the door in the middle of a crisis to none other then the love interest of her novel... and he's holding her usb?

warnings • general, blood/injury, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH(S)

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN • HERE COMES THE BRIDE (2k)

It's a beautiful venue, really, all decked out in gorgeous flowers leading you down the aisle to the love of your life. You had decided to go with a beach wedding, the outdoors a relaxing atmosphere and the beach, a fun aspect. At least, that's what you pitched to Yeonjun. Another reason was it's out in the open, therefore no closed doors. The only time you'd be inside a building would be before you left, getting ready elsewhere with Yeji and being picked up by Hyunjin.

Little did Yeonjun know you were never planning on making it there, escaping at the last minute in your wedding dress to a car rental one town over. Hyunjin helped put your things into the rental from his trunk, wishing you good luck with your new life. He'd snuck his information into your bag in case you needed someone, but you shredded the paper as soon as you found it. This was a fresh start, no one and nothing from your old life to bring you back to it or come back to you. Only memories and old wounds would haunt you now.

However, this was not the case. Your old life found a way to seep back in ways you never expected, ways you still fail to understand. So now you get into Hyunjin's car and tell him new instructions; you're going to the venue, determined to get this right. You weren't doing this again, letting him win and be his forever. No, you were going to get married and be happy and live and love again.

He's already standing at the end with his best man, a childhood friend you never really got to know. Sometimes you would wonder if he was ever so bad to him as he was to you, wishing you could take him away from all the pain. But you don't know him, and he could be just as bad. The seats lined up on either side of the aisle are empty for the most part, only a few people right at the front.

You recognize his brown, curly hair before anything else, your heart aching in your chest. As far as you know, you're the only one other than Yeonjun who knows what's going on. Chan must be here for the laughs, for Yeonjun to see him and know what you're missing because of him. Beside him is Jeongin, and as you pass him you notice a trickle of dark red running down his neck from his ear, but he doesn't say anything and you act like you don't notice. He avoids your eyes, but the way his jaw is clenched is telling.

Music plays loudly as you make your way to the front, stopping in front of Yeonjun. Yeji stands close to your side as your maid of honour, wearing a lovely silk lilac dress. She's more nervous than you it seems, a strange sense of calm washing over your body as you look directly into Yeonjun's eyes. Looking you up and down, he smirks, a glint in his eye, and you know he thinks he's already got this in the bag.

"Shall we begin?" The officiator walks forward.

"Ye-"

"No," you cut Yeonjun off. "There's someone missing."

Yeonjun narrows his eyes at you, but you play innocent, looking down the aisle. Any minute now, he should be here. You know he'll be here. Another minute passes and you can tell Yeonjun is growing impatient, the mask of a loving partner slowly slipping as you make him wait. Your chest tightens when his hand raises, but he only rakes his fingers through his hair.

"Whoever it is clearly isn't showing up," he snaps suddenly, earning a strange look from Hyunjin. "I mean, we can wait a little longer, but we shouldn't hold off so long for one person. The sooner I can marry you, the better."

He clasps your hands together, smiling down at you.

"You're right," you smile back. "We should start."

The officiate begins, looking uncomfortably between you two. When Yeonjun says his vows, you pretend to be grateful, even forcing out a few tears. It's all bullshit, everything he says. You can't wait any longer.

"I won't marry you," you announce.

"What?" Yeonjun's nostrils flare and his eyes narrow further.

"You have caused me so much pain, and I'm done." You step back, creating some distance between you as you recite your vows. "I have lived the past year and a half in fear of you finding me, of you bringing me down. Now I'm back here, and I won't let that happen again. You might think I'm just a scared little girl, but what you don't realize is that everything you've done leading up to this has only pissed me off."

He tries to grab you when you back up more, but Chan is out of his seat in the blink of an eye. Trapped in his arms, Yeonjun thrashes, trying to get to you. Chan is stronger, grip tight around Yeonjun's upper torso and arms.

"Min, Jeongin, now!" You hope they remember what to do.

A familiar face runs down the aisle, taking Chan's place in holding Yeonjun back. Minho struggles to keep ahold of him at first, hands slipping as they switch positions. Before Yeonjun can advance on you, Chan's fist is flying, knocking Yeonjun backward into Minho's arms.

Jeongin's chin falls to his chest, eyes open just enough to see the whites. Dark red blood gushes from his nose at the same time you hear Yeonjun cry out, the same dark red spurting out of a hole in his neck. Another appears soon after, then again on the other side. The whole time he's crying out, Chan is at your side, looking you over.

"I'm okay," you say, holding his face. "I'm okay."

Placing a hand on his chest, you take a silver band from Yeji, and the world around you fades. It's just you and Chan, staring into each other's eyes as your hands find one another. You're about to slip the ring onto him, but he grabs your hand before you can.

"We need to do this right," he says, cupping your face.

"We don't have time-"

"Then we make time." He's brushing hair out of your face, eyes flickering down to your lips.

"This might not work," you whisper.

"It will, I know it will."

"How can you be so sure?" Your free hand holds his shoulder, scared to let go.

"Because Y/n." Chan smiles, wide and blinding. "Because I love you, so, so much. You created me, gave me life, and although I know you think I only love you because of that, it's not true. If there's one thing I can take away from Yeonjun, it's that I have the freedom to choose, and I choose you. And you should too."

Your vision blurs with tears as he takes both your hands in his.

"It's time, Y/n," he whispers. "Make your choice."

"I choose myself." And he smiles and nods, wiping your tears away right as they start to fall. "I choose to be free."

The silver band slips on perfectly, and all you can hear now is silence. No muffled yelling, no music, nothing. It's you and it's him and it's everything.

Until someone pulls you away, back into those dark rooms.

Darkness engulfs you, turning around in a slow circle until your eyes adjust and you recognize the light coming up at the edge of the room. Someone coughs behind you, a strangled, gurgling sound, and you're met with two bodies. One lies on the chair facing where you used to sit, head turned away in a messy puddle of red, and you know who it is. Lying on the ground face down is another man, the wire that used to connect you and Yeonjun stuck into his arm.

"Y/n," he croaks and you crouch down hesitantly. "Y/n."

He coughs again, and you realize there's no more water in the room when blood spatters out of his mouth and onto the floor. Carefully helping him onto his back, you gasp shakily at the sight of him. There's a large wound running down the length of his chest, white shirt turned a much darker shade, and the same colour covering the lower half of his face, dried around his nose and mouth. The wire is jammed into his arm, veins around it black.

"What did you do?" You place a hand on his cheek, tears threatening to spill over.

"He's gone," Jeongin chokes out. "He was using this to connect you, your souls, your very beings. If it was still in you when I ripped the wires out, it would have killed you too."

"But why did you connect yourself?"

"He needed something to keep him grounded, I think." Jeongin's eyes flutter for a moment, but he manages keeps them open. "If I didn't connect myself, he would have reached out and found something or someone else. This way-" His breath catches. "This way he's gone for good."

"But that's just this realm right?" You ask, desperation seeping into your words. "You were fine at the wedding. You'll be fine when I get out of here too, won't you?"

He shakes his head. "I was supposed to die a long time ago."

Tears finally fall, mixing with the blood by his head. His breathing is slow, eyes falling shut one last time, but a small smile graces his face.

"So, you and Chan?" He coughs. "Gonna make it through?"

"That's what you're concerned about?" You laugh and sob at the same time, crossing your legs and propping his head up gently into your lap. You brush your fingers through his hair with one hand, holding his face with the other. "I don't know what's going to happen now. I don't even know if he's gonna be there when I get out."

"He'll be there, I can still..." Jeongin takes a deep breath, voice rising in pitch. "Feel him. I can feel him."

Jeongin brings a shaky hand up to your own on his cheek and you hold back another sob. This kid who you couldn't save, this kid who deserved better than the life he was given, holding onto you in his final moments.

"Thank you for trying," he whispers. "Thank you."

"Jeongin?" A beat passes and he says nothing, the rise and fall of his chest coming to an end. "No, no Jeongin, no."

Your body hunches over him, cradling his head in your arms as you weep over his body, unmoving. All that fills the room are your sobs and the sound of you crying out to him, calling out his name and pleading the universe to bring him back. It takes a long time for you to finally detach from him, laying his head down with care. You can't leave him here, but you have no way to bring him with you either.

With a heavy heart, you start your way to the door, but stop when you catch a glimpse of Yeonjun's face as you pass the chairs. Approaching him, you take in the way his hair has fallen into his eyes and the wires dangling above him, marked with the blood of the boy on the ground. You note the way his eyes are half closed and the way one of his legs hangs off the chair. You don't know why you feel compelled to memorize every last detail of his face, but you do.

The same door you left through before is closed behind you, but when you open it this time there's no light. The path is dark, too dark, but you head down anyway. A strange dizziness washes over you hard, bringing you down to your knees. Someone catches you as you fall, but you're suddenly too drowsy to keep your eyes open, letting this feeling whisk you away.

Warm sun on your face, soft sheets entangle your legs. Your eyes are crusted shut, but you pry them open and stretch out in your bed. Slowly, you get up, head swimming. You wait for the feeling to go away, walking over to the window and opening the curtain. Below are bustling city streets, people with places to go filling the sidewalks. You rub your eyes, exiting your bedroom to start the kettle, sitting on the red chaise lounge as you wait for it to boil.

●

notes • i cried writing this lol. what do we think happened to chan?

taglist • @yongbbokkie @chaeryred @tenebrisirae @toplinelix @chansdoll @amaranth-writing @3rachachoo @linosjureumi @thebrownemo @tfshouldidohere @channie-143 @frogieeheart @kangaracharacha @skzswife @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @palindrome969 @laylasbunbunny @bloomingstay

TAGLIST CLOSED ^^^blue means i can't tag you

#.・゜-: ✧ :- FICTIONAL REALITY .・゜-: ✧ :-#skz #stray kids #non idol au #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x fem reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz series #stray kids fanfic #bang chan series

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jessequinones · 8 months ago

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Writing Advice: Surprised Characters Deaths

When it comes to character deaths, none is more decisive than a surprised one. Surprised deaths are by their very nature, a way to surprise the reader. (Obviously) These deaths give us some kind of reaction, mainly in the “What the fuck!?” and “Why the fuck!?” category. Most of the time these deaths are at the cost of a secondary character, one who had lots to live for, or was just about to reach their goal in life until death came by and said hello. I’m not sure how to write these kinds of deaths, but I have some thoughts.

If you’re prepared to anger your reader by surprise killing one of your characters then step one is done. Now it’s time to mitigate the backlash and not turn the hatred for killing off a character into hating the entire story because that does happen. People have stopped reading stories and given one-star reviews because their favourite character died unexpectedly, so if you’re prepared for that, let’s continue.

Their story wasn’t complete: That’s the deal with a surprise death, their stories haven’t been finished so it sucks to see them go. Depending on what kind of story you were giving them will determine the outrage.

One of the more common stories is love stories, either the surprised death character has been trying to win the love of another, or they were stuck in a love triangle. Either way, the character dies before getting their true love kiss, (or sometimes right after).

If a character dies, before they could win the love of another, it might anger your readers because they wanted to see the romance end, (just not like that). People enjoy love stories, but seeing a romance turn into tragedy is heartbreaking. Though this normally doesn’t result in people no longer reading your book, that joy comes from the fact that there was a love triangle.

Let’s say both A and B love C, however, a fan favourite is for A and C to get together, and then suddenly, A dies leaving B with C. Those who wanted A to get with C... might be a bit upset, to put it mildly. Resolving a love triangle through death is a trope that’s not highly regarded as it seems lazy. Mainly in the fact they couldn’t figure it out and fate had to intervene. Most of the time, whoever dies in the love triangle was the one the lover was going for but now had to settle for second best.

However, if a romance subplot gets finished, and the character dies shortly after, while still shocking, this will give the reader more of a sad experience instead of anger. The character finally won their lover's heart. They kiss and they make it official. The romance is done and everyone is happy. Killing them off in the next chapter is upsetting because the reader most likely wanted to see where the relationship goes now it’s complete. This will most likely give you less backlash since the characters got what they wanted but still died shortly afterwards.

Other examples of "their story that isn’t finished" come from whatever that character's goal was. It can upset the reader if that character had something to look forward to and died before finishing it. I don’t know about every reader but from personal experience I hate it when things just end. I don’t mind deaths, but to have plot points, never get finished upsets me. And I get ya, if your story has a theme where death comes out of nowhere and that’s life, then it’s cool. However, keep in mind there will be readers who don’t like plot points not finishing, so if anything at least try to inform them, that this is a thing which might happen to their favourite character. That way while their death might still come as a surprise, the idea of “that’s life” won’t.

Most of those kinds of deaths don’t make readers put down your book depending on what the character was supposed to be completing that is. However, if you want to lower your reader's anger, I would have whatever goal your character was supposed to complete, be done by someone else. It can be a nice sendoff for the character knowing the one thing they were after is completed in honour of their name.

Why did that character die: This kind of reaction mainly came from a surprised death which had no build-up and was mainly thrown in to surprise the reader. (Remember, just because it’s called a surprised death, doesn’t mean they have to come out of nowhere.) The ones I’m talking about in this section are ones that had zero build-up and were added in as a “bet you didn’t see that coming” kind of trope.

Surprising the reader for the sake of it is the quickest way to anger your fans. Readers like to feel smart, they like to predict what’s gonna happen, and if all of a sudden their favourite character dies...for no reason. The reader might feel cheated. “Why did I care about this character if they were gonna die like that?” Some might say.

You don’t have to explain every character's death in your story, but when it comes to a surprised character's death, expect some questions your readers will want answers for and if they don’t get it in the book they might try going online or something.

That doesn’t make sense: This reaction comes from when a powerful character gets killed by a less powerful one. Mainly when this happens even the story gets confused and I think this is one of those character deaths, where as long as the story is confused, the backlash won’t be high.

If a strong character gets killed by a random and the story continues like nothing happened. That might upset your readers as they’ll start to question what’s the power level of your characters? Why did that one die? Who is next? I’m not saying only your strong can get killed by the strong, but if they were to fall and the character who killed them is not as strong as the one who died, explaining why that happened might ease some backlash.

Sacrificing themselves for the greater good: This is a pretty simple one and doesn’t get much backlash, and it’s when character A saves character B but dies in the process. It’s normally when they appear out of nowhere to push the other character out of harm's way, or to intercept the danger. These deaths aren’t really surprising especially if the character who died has been known to do this before. It only becomes surprising when the character who died probably could’ve lived but the story said it was time for them to go.

Sometimes this is used on evil characters with a change of heart just before they go. (Kind of going in the redemption through death) trope as oftentimes the characters who do this are just minor villains, betraying their master at the very end.

Too many deaths: Sometimes if you kill off too many characters in a surprising way, it’ll get numb. Readers like to read stories for the characters but if so many characters are barely staying alive throughout each book, that might deter them from liking any as they don’t know who’s gonna live and who might die. I’m not saying there needs to be a limit on the amount of murder you commit, "A Song of Ice and Fire" is a great example of killing off all of your beloved characters and still keeping people engaged in the story. But I will say, it’s hard to do.

Why are you back?: If you killed a character off in a surprising way and they get brought back to life for whatever reason, death would no longer have any meaning in your story. Any more surprised deaths won’t retain their shocked value because the last time someone died unexpectedly, they came back to life. If surprised deaths are gonna be in your story, along with resurrection, you have to make sure you only do it for the main characters because you don’t want your surprise deaths to have no impact.

That’s about it with surprised deaths. Sorry if I was a bit all over the place with this one. I don’t want to say surprised deaths can’t work. They can and they can be very impactful, but they can also lead to outrage. Depending on how you're doing this trope will determine the reaction you’ll get from your readers. Sadly, this is one of those times you can’t ask beta readers for help as this trope only works the first read-through. If someone reads your book a second time and knows a character will die, they might have one of two reactions. “Oh, that’s the foreshadowing I miss.” or “Yeah, that still makes no sense.”

It's a trial and error kind of thing and you won't truly start to know how to write a good surprised death without releasing what you have and facing the backlash that might come with it. My advice would be, does it make sense if you know it's coming or does it still feel like it came out of the blue?

#writing #writeblr #book #books #writers on tumblr #book writing #creative writing #writer #on writing #writerscommunity #writing advice #writers of tumblr #writers #author #write

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libertyreads · 2 months ago

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Book Review #58 of 2024--

Graveyard Shift by M. L. Rio. Rating: 4 stars.

Read on October 2nd.

This gothic novella was exactly the vibe I was wanting to get me into the spooky mood. As usual, M.L. Rio does an amazing job setting the atmosphere and getting the reader into the story right away. The only thing that could have made it more spook-tacular for me is if I read it very late on a dark and stormy night. In Graveyard Shift, we follow a group of people who have somehow all met in this graveyard on their smoke breaks in this college town. They started meeting there at midnights since none of them have any sort of regular sleeping pattern. But one midnight they discover a secret and start looking for answers. I loved getting everyone's POV chapters. I think the author also did a great job keeping the characters distinct from one another and making them stand out. It was dark and gritty and goes there which is something I say a lot of Horror doesn't do--at least not enough for me. And all I really want is to spend more time with these characters. The writing style is also really good but at this point I just expect it from this author.

So, what is the thing that brings down the rating for me? If you've guessed it's too short for me, ding-ding, you win. I liked this so much and one of the two things that could have made it so much better for me is getting to spend more time with these absolutely mad people. When I like something, I want more of it. I also didn't realize this was a novella until it arrived on my doorstep so I guess part of that is on me. The thing M.L. Rio likes to do is leave the ending wide open. No definitive answers. No real, solid resolution. Just a question lingering in the air. Which I don't love. I think it works well here despite me wanting an answer. I know that it allows for a more hooking ending this way. I just hate not knowing.

Overall, this was an amazing autumn read. Perfect for this time of the year. So, if you have the chance to pick this one up soon, please do. On your next dark and stormy night.

#book review #book reviews #booklr #bookblr #bookstagram #bookish #books read in 2024 #2024 reading challenge #goodreads challenge #goodreads #graveyard shift #m.l. rio #M. L. Rio #ml rio #m l rio #new release #novella

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polarisbibliotheque · 1 year ago

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Nemesis (Vergil x Reader) - Chapter 7

Nemesis

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: The Abyss opening is a rare occurrence. In his youth, Vergil wanted to harness its power, but never thought he would meet his greatest adversary along the way. Years later, the Abyss is once again open and that might call for some rather unlikely alliances.

Age restriction: 18+ - there’s a lot of blood, violence, cursing and all those things people want to forbid younger audiences of seeing. Also, cosmic horror is a thing here. Procceed with caution

Special Credits: Our dear Ovid is a character created by @furyeclipse and, even when they don’t show up, I’m crediting and thanking forever ^^

You can check out Fury’s writing (which I highly recommend) on this link: Fury’s Ao3

Author's notes: I TOLD YOU GUYS I HAD A NEW CHAPTER READY *party ensues* hahahaha jokes aside, I hope you like this one. I'm very happy to have Dante on the bandwagon :3

Also, 7 is my lucky number and I'm all happy like "hohoho of course chapter 7 had to be Dante's highlight, 7 is always the best" as if I'm not the one writing this thing. Your pocket writer is a goof.

Thanks a lot for waiting so long and I hope you guys enjoy it!! A lot more to come and I don't regret the feels ;)

Chapter 7

“Two strawberry sundaes, extra berries.”

The barwoman stared deeply into Dante’s eyes, questioning everything about that man. He didn’t have the scent of a full human, but there was something not so quite demonic about him. Nevertheless, the way he dressed, the way he carried himself and the imminent threat in his eyes was directly opposite to his request.

“Well, sorry, darling. Over here, we have only things for grown-ups.” Her answer, though, was mellow and alluring, the same way her whole posture seemed so inviting and hypnotic as she leaned on the counter. “I do have some berries, but they come with a price.”

“Oh, really? And what would be that price then?” Dante leaned a little on the counter, but his arm never left your shoulders. You were actually starting to question why he seemed so protective over someone he had just met.

“The strongest drink on the house, sided by the rarest and most delicious berries you and your babe will ever see.” She looked at you, winking at both of your interests. “Not from this world, definitely forbidden but… Deeply alluring.”

“The taste of sin, then.” As you spoke, she let out a singsong laugh – beautiful albeit threatening. “I’ll have it.”

“Yeah, I’m in as well. Make it two.”

“You won’t regret it, darlings.” The woman winked once again, leaving to prepare your drinks.

You leaned by Dante’s side, still protected by his arm. You had a perfect view of the entire club: dancers of all genders entertained the guests, the lights bled in all tones of red and pink, sometimes broken by a deep blue or a tinge of purple; satin couches adorned with gold painted wood made everyone comfortable and tables looked like marble. The bar was made of a patchwork of mirrors, reflecting its guests and preparing their sins.

You had to admit, it was quite a nice place. Dante said the Love Planet was the best in town, but if they weren’t smart, they would soon be surpassed by The Devil’s Den.

The only issue was the people who seemed to go there: the scent of demons was quite strong, even to your human nose – for Dante, it was almost as bad as the first layer of Hell. Not all demons looked menacing, but many of them had ill intentions in their eyes. A few humans were clearly unsuspecting guests of demons who lured them in, not knowing where they were getting themselves into or what fate held in their future.

You were certain none of those people would leave that place alive.

“The humans seem to be quite clueless.” You finally said, winning a nod from Dante.

“Yeah, somethin’s going on here…” He muttered back, scanning the club as you did. He counted at least five humans among all those people – not much, but if he was there to save a single life, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so. “The ones with human guests are more powerful than the others.”

“How do you know that?”

“See how they’re behavin’?” Dante leaned into you, pointing at some of the people with guests. The other demons didn’t dare get close or even look at the humans who were there as per invitation – they looked, carrying lust in their eyes, but they wouldn’t act upon their desires. And that was very uncharacteristic of demons. “They do that ‘cause of hierarchy. They won’t dare touch something owned by a powerful demon…”

“Unless they are more powerful than the demon who possesses it.” You nodded slowly as Dante eyed you with interest and a fun sense of pride in his stare. “Codex Daemonica. Everything I know about demons comes from the encyclopedia.”

“Ha! Now that’s new!” He had a sudden fun smile on his lips, as if he had just heard a name no one mentioned in years. “Gotta agree with ya, it’s the best way to learn for the first time.”

“Oh, you know the Codex then?” You giggled, quite interested in that. When you mentioned to Lady, she had never heard of it – and it didn’t seem to be something common among devil hunters.

“Of course. By heart, babe.” Dante let out a small laugh; his eyes going back to scanning the club. “But, it doesn’t beat workin’ on the field. Bein’ book smart can only get you so far when fightin’ demons.”

“I would drink to that if our drinks were already here.” You agreed solemnly, knowing he was right. The Codex gave you a lot of information, but fighting a demon for the first time in real life was always a lot more different. You could know everything about the creatures you were up against: it seemed like your brain blanked out and the only thing left was a raw instinct of survival.

You were brought from your thoughts as a demon leaned on the counter a little close to you and Dante pulled you even closer. You didn’t argue, patiently waiting the demon leave with a couple of drinks and Dante’s arm around your shoulders relax a little.

“Sorry ‘bout that, but I don’t want those things to know you’re a human. It can make our job a lil’ more difficult than it already is.” Dante winked at you, making you furrow your brows.

“Why wouldn’t they…?” But as soon as you were asking, you finally noticed something different in his eyes. It was always there, but you ignored it as he was easy to be around – and he was Lady’s friend. “Are you… A demon too…?”

“Eh, not really…” Dante’s answer was a little dragged, somewhat uncomfortable – for the first time in that evening. You furrowed your brows even further. “Half-half. But it’s enough to mask your scent.”

Half demon – that was interesting. During all your time hunting, you had never heard of a half human half demon being before. Looking into his eyes, though, you could see Dante wasn’t lying: there was something of threatening in there, sure, but there was a humanity you couldn’t always find even in the eyes of humans.

“That is enough for me.” Your answer was quiet but set in stone. Once more, Dante looked at you, remembering of someone his heart would miss every single day. Someone who doomed himself to where their father was born.

“Here you go, darlings.” The barwoman came back before he could say anything, though, slipping your glasses in the counter and making your hands meet the dark magenta drinks adorned with berries of all kinds. “Enjoy.”

You and Dante exchanged a look, as if asking each other if it was safe to drink. You giggled a bit, taking the glass between your fingers – but Dante was faster and took a sip before you could even think about doing so.

“Hmmm, Hell Berries. They’ll give you a rush of heat, but they’re safe.” He nodded as you smiled in return. Who would’ve known? Dante drank it before you did so he could see if it was safe for a human or not. Demons could be kind too.

“Ooof, they’re strong. And quite tart.” You let it down your throat, allowing a tiny laugh right after. “I like it.”

Dante smiled in return, taking another sip. He figured you would. Vergil used to like it when they were kids too.

“Well, well, I think all of us are excited for tonight, right?” Someone stepped on the main stage, with all the lights focusing on them. A devilish smile adorned the red lips, exuberant clothes with the chest almost uncovered, short hair slicked back, drawing attention to the pair of vixen golden eyes. “After all, it is time, my darling friends. Today, oh today, she will rise and take this world alongside us!”

You glanced Dante, seeing as he threw the very same look at you. Both of you had one eyebrow raised, wondering the same thing: who was she?

“But of course, to do so, we will need a few friends from the audience! C’mon, don’t be shy!”

Of course, as you and Dante expected, the dancers started gathering the very few humans present in that hellhole – leading them to the stage. They had only smiles and happiness upon being invited to participate, but as the hunters you were, there was only suspicion in your hearts. Slowly, you both left your place at the bar and made your way to the stage – ready to fight when the situation called for it.

“So many beautiful specimens today, she will be so proud…!” The phrase was crowned with a breathless sigh. “The best of the best, I have to say, we will all be wonderfully rewarded!”

As you walked alongside Dante, no demon dared touch you. You noticed the man in the red coat by your side barely seemed to notice – seemed – but it was very obvious no one wanted to get in your way.

“Who do you think is she…?” You muttered to Dante as soon as you stopped in front of the stage.

“No idea…” He shrugged, as his eyes turned into ice cold skies. They reminded you of something, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. “It has to be someone strong… And who likes this.”

The humans on stage were being handcuffed on the stage poles, while the dancers made it all a delightful show – not only for the demons, but the humans as well. All creatures in the club were enjoying themselves, you had no doubt – and maybe, just maybe, the demons wanted to have a night of pleasure instead of murder. You and Dante could be wrong.

After all, you could list a few demons from the Codex who were summoned with orgies, so… You never knew.

“But then why would people disappear…?” The question was more for yourself. Not used to hunting with someone else, you wouldn’t really stop murmuring to yourself.

Dante just glanced back at you. The way you carried yourself, the way your brows furrowed while keeping a serious gaze on stage, stoic and proud… It made his heart ache. You murmured the main questions after having a storm of deep thoughts in your mind, just like his brother used to do.

“Oh! No! Don’t cry! You will love it, I promise!” Both of your thoughts were interrupted by the velvety voice on stage – the demon clearly enjoying themselves while brandishing a glistening dagger, already lightly running it on a victim’s neck: the crimson blood slowly making the demons let their animalistic side out. “You’ll enjoy everything for your blood offering, my darling!”

The loud crack of a shot cut through the laughs and silenced the room – the dagger, flying away from the demon’s hand, who just stared back at you both in utter shock.

“You know, there’s a thing between humans called consent.” Dante’s voice finally raised from the back of his warm gun; his cold blue eyes glancing at you with some amusement. “Isn’t that so, y/n?”

“Consent and boundaries. I think murder is usually out of people’s pleasure lists.” You crossed your arms, raising your head with pride, still staring at the demons on stage. The more Dante looked at you, the more he saw what he had lost. “Usually.”

“Eh. I’m not countin’ the sick ones.” He shook his head, gracing you with a slight smile hidden in the corner of his lips.

“Well, if you both want your fifteen minutes of fame, we can surely have some space for you here.” The stage demon had rage in their reddish eyes, annoyance being a very mild word for their feelings at the moment. “She will not be impeded by human hunters like you.”

And you now had a problem in your hands: all inhuman beating hearts in the club were ready to tear yours and Dante’s apart. You finally had your sword ready and Dante held the hilt of the Rebellion – its skull showing its fangs at the demons, ready to claim their blood.

With that sight, the stage demon narrowed their eyes at Dante, carefully analyzing as you started defending against the demons ready to slash your throats. You, no doubt a human, fought with grace and viciousness, carrying a style that few beings would – even among demons, you were too precise, technical and, at the same time, fluid when killing. Dante, in the other hand, favored heavy attacks, using all the strength he needed to wield a heavy sword like Rebellion… A sword that no human could carry with such ease. Even so, you both seemed to have a coordination as if you had fought side by side multiple times – a connection that made him complement your gaps as you balanced his faults; something so utterly human.

A human heart beating with demon blood. And when a demon managed to scrape Dante’s face – something that only happened when he put himself in the way of a blow that was meant for you, even if it would just hurt and not kill – there were any doubts left.

“The son of Sparda…!” The stage demon gasped, widening their red eyes.

Those whispered words felt like an incantation that made some demons stop and stare in awe, as others ran in despair and the rest seemed to be even more bloodthirsty while laughing in a frenzy.

You furrowed your brows, finishing a demon and spilling its blood on your face, while turning your gaze back to the stage to understand what in the hell that demon was talking about.

And their red eyes were locked on Dante – while the man just beheaded a demon who tried to take your life as you tried to make sense of what was going on. As he swinged his sword to get rid of the excess of blood, you saw Dante’s teeth slightly elongated in fangs, his eyes filled with a spark you had only seen once.

“Took your time.” His comment was in a sneer of pure condescendence, confirming what the demon had just said.

Your head spun while you were plunged back into battle by a creature who jumped right at your neck. So, Sparda was real. It meant the legend of him closing the gates of Hell were also real. You never really doubted his existence, but you doubted the rest of the legend – his adoration for humans, his love for a human woman, something that resulted in children of their own: half human, half demon.

Half-half. Just like Dante.

“Hey, y/n! Can you get those people off the stage?” Dante looked at you from over his shoulder, holding back a demon who had its fangs locked around the blade of the Rebellion.

“Sure! What about you?” Your head was spinning, yes. You had a lot to talk about after that fight – but, right now, you had to finish your job.

“I’ll hold these sorry fucks back!” With that, he pushed the demon back and buried his sword on its throat – the floor and his clothes now stained with dark red blood. “Can you handle it alone?”

“I was about to ask you the same.” Your answer was murmured in a dark tone, while you barely looked back at him. In a matter of fact, your eyes were fixed on the demons between you and the stage.

Dante glanced quickly to respond, but his words found draught. You held your sword with both of your hands, bending your knees while your eyes analyzed your enemies like prey. As quickly as your human pace could, you ran through the demons, slaughtering them without blinking and with no hesitation – quickly reaching the stage and swinging the blood off your sword as you went up the stairs with a calm but harsh pace, head held high as the stage demon stumbled back with your approach.

Dante had only seen one person fighting like that in his whole life – not even Trish had those mannerisms.

“You stay back, filthy human!” Now the stage demon wasn’t so sure if they could survive an encounter with you. Your face was smeared with blood, your eyes as cold as ice. “I will not allow you to destroy everything we’ve worked so hard…!”

“What interests me the most…” Your tone was calm, your eyes permanently trained in the demon’s red stare; head held high with a tint of arrogance while you cleaned your sword from the dark demon blood. “Is that any blood would be enough for this kind of ritual. But you, demons, always have a thirst for human blood, don’t you…?”

Your calmness was petrifying. In all its life, the demon never had to deal with a human like you. They were used to emotion controlled humans – something so characteristic of that species – but there you were, acting like a cold-blooded hunter and killer. It was scary. A lot more than the demon thought it would be.

You took the demon’s shock as an opportunity to set free the humans closest to you. Cutting down the chains of the first two, they cried as they saw themselves saved from the horrible fate they thought would be their doom – if the tears were from terror or joy, you wouldn’t know.

Before you could finish what you were set out to do, though, the stage demon ran towards you with rage in their blood red eyes. Grabbing the closest victim you let go, you placed your sword in their hands.

“Use this to free the others. When you’re done, throw it back to me, got it?”

The human couldn’t even say no. They shook their head frantically, holding the heavy sword with both hands, questioning how you managed to make it seem so effortless. With tears in their eyes, the human ran with their mission to accomplish, while you got ready with your hands close to your face.

Before Dante could do anything else, you sucker-punched the stage demon right in the face, making it stumble back in awe.

“C’mon, babe.” You had a smirk in your lips, while making a few moves of martial arts, taunting the demon who now didn’t know if they ran from you or killed you with their bare teeth.

The fistfight didn’t last long, though. With that diversion, the demon didn’t even care about the human setting the other victims free – making it so easy for them to run away. As they got down the stage, Dante made sure he would be able to protect the humans, holding back the demons who were in a frenzy with the thought of losing their sacrifices.

“Through the back! Go!” Dante screamed over his shoulder, eyes tinged with a slight red glow. The victims didn’t even think twice: running towards the door Dante signaled before, soon they were all free.

Your sword laid on stage close to your feet – but not close enough for you to easily catch it. Seeing this, the stage demon made sure you wouldn’t be able to get it back. As you struggled, Dante was finally done with the demons from the club – the others, having ran away from all that carnage – running towards the stage without thinking twice.

“Hey, y/n! Catch!”

As you heard him scream, you punched the demon once again so you had an opportunity to turn around and catch whatever it was that Dante threw at you – and as you did, you saw the glistening silver of one of his guns flying towards you.

Catching Ivory in the air, you locked and loaded as Dante stopped right by your side – aiming Ebony just as you did with its counterpart.

“Jackpot.” He had a slight smile on his lips, grave voice declaring it was all over. The stage demon found their end as you both shot in unison.

It had been such a long time since Dante did that with someone else by his side.

To be continued...

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