#oh i'm doin fine don't worry about it

[art1st1x]

Elise has a new pair of ruby red slippers!!! Be amazed!!

Go play Little Goody Two Shoes because it is an artistic masterpiece that will blow your feeble mind and also maybe scare you a little bit!

Halloween has come and gone and I've yet to cope for it.

[archangeldyke-all]

Sevika and tarotreader!reader. Reader showing up in Zaun all of a sudden. Basically taking residence in a dark corner of the last drop. Sevika may have seen them from the corner of the eye but never played much mind until rumors spread that their prediction always come true. Sevika, who may not believe in fate, is intrigued.

i love this so much hehehe

men and minors dni

technically, all magic, whether it's derived from the arcane, divination, or religion; is outlawed in piltover and zaun.

technically.

but realistically, you and every other person you know with any kind of magical gift are highly valued commodities for the wealthy families in the city.

you see, good business decisions and solutions to political struggles are rarely born out of human ingenuity. nine times out of ten, if the city of progress is making any progress at all; it's because the powerful and wealthy have double and triple checked with their various psychics, priests, and mages that whatever they have planned will be beneficial to them, too.

for a while, you made some real good money working as mrs. kirraman's personal tarot reader.

you were under the assumption that because you avoided consulting her on any political or financial matter, that your background as a zaunite wouldn't come into question when you give your (sometimes hard to hear) fortunes and advice.

but when the cards started letting you in on secrets mrs. kirraman wasn't keen on letting out ((and yes i'm talking about @micronreadzztuff22 's garnet-- an oc that's having an affair with cassanda eheh)) the woman you once admired for her ventilation systems in your home city shows you a nasty side of herself.

"mrs. kirraman... i don't mean to accuse you of anything... but the cards are asking you to be careful about any secrets you might not want getting out."

"pardon?" the woman asked, her face paling in the candlelight.

"i... i worry your husband's growing suspicious of y-your... loyalty."

"what, exactly, are you accusing me of?"

"i'm not judging you, ma'am, and i promise you all my clients have my full confidenti--"

"who put you up to this?!"

"n-nobody. it's in the cards."

"oh, i should've known better than to trust some scamming sump-rat--"

"ex-cuse me?! mrs. kirraman, i've been advising you for three years, and the cards have never led you or i astray--"

"i recommend you shut your mouth and leave the premise before i call for security." she said as she stormed out of the room.

so, that was the end of that gig. you left the premise in the strong arms of a kirraman guard, muttering about summoning janna and cursing the family and woman. of course, you aren't capable of casting curses, but you enjoyed the spooked look your empty threats got out of her as you were dragged off of her property.

it's for the best. or at least, that's what the cards tell you.

you've got a little shop set up in the undercity now, just across the street from the last drop in the heart of zaun. your busiest hours are the evenings when people stumble out of the bar, a little buzzed and needing some advice.

business is fine. you're happy to be working back at home. you just can't help but feel like you're missing something.

and then you meet sevika.

from the moment she steps into your shop, you know she's gonna be trouble for you. she's all skeptical and guarded, looking at you like she can't tell if you're crazy or scamming her. it's hilarious.

"care for a reading?" you ask.

she raises an eyebrow at you. "...so are you a psychic or...?"

you chuckle. "a tarot reader. i don't read minds, just cards."

"hm." sevika sits down at the counter. "alright, fine. how much are you chargin'?" she asks. you chuckle.

"depends how hard your question is."

"what am i doin' tomorrow night?" sevika asks. you roll your eyes and shake your head, pulling two cards. wheel of fortune and the devil. you chuckle.

"gambling?" you guess.

sevika smirks. "easy guess."

"fuck off. you got a question or what?" you ask. sevika sighs.

"what do you know about silco?"

"i told you i'm not a psychic--"

"no no--" sevika cuts you off with a laugh. "i mean, you've heard of him, right?"

"sure." you say, nodding.

"he... might be interested in hiring you as an advisor." sevika mutters. you chuckle.

"you don't sound too happy about it."

"i don't believe in psychics."

"oh, janna, this is gonna be miserable, isn't it?" you groan. sevika huffs a laugh.

it isn't until you've been working with silco for a full month that sevika starts to respect your predictions' accuracy.

it takes another month for her to start being friendly to you.

and then, by month three, sevika's one of your closest friends.

and she asks for a reading.

"you sure you trust me?" you ask with a giggle as you shuffle your deck. sevika huffs and rolls her eyes.

"i've seen the shit you predict for silco. you knew finn was gonna flip before we even knew he was upset. c'mon, give me your worst."

you chuckle a bit, then flip a card. "huh." you mumble. sevika raises an eyebrow at you.

"what?" she asks.

the lovers. you chuckle and shake your head. "you got a crush on anybody?" you ask, flipping another card as sevika sputters across the desk.

"wh-- do i-- what the fuck are you talking about?" sevika's eyes are darting around the room like she's nervous, or something, and you don't understand why she's suddenly so antsy until you look down at your cards.

the high priestess. "oh." you giggle.

sevika's eyes fly to yours and she groans. "shoulda known better than to ask the fuckin' psychic i'm crushin' on to give me a reading, huh?"

you laugh. "only if you were hoping i wouldn't find out."

"fuck. i thought you were gonna tell me to quit smoking or something."

you snort. "i can tell you that, i don't need the cards for it."

"well..." sevika grunts and flails her hands out.

"well?" you ask. she groans again.

"you gonna charge me double if i ask you another question?" she asks. you grin.

"depends what the question is."

"for fuck's sa-- will you go out with me?" sevika whines. you grin.

"i knew you were gonna be someone special to me."

"oh yeah?" sevika asks with a hesitant smile. "the cards tell you that?"

"nah. didn't need 'em to know that." you say with a shrug.

sevika grins, and your cards flutter to the ground as she darts across the table to kiss you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @greenhazes

[ddejavvu]

for a Tyler request what about him and reader getting into a really bad argument and storming off and when he cools down he can’t find her and is panicking

Alive and Crazy - Tyler Owens x Reader

come participate in tyler owens night !

Perhaps it was cruel of you to pick such a secluded hiding spot, but after all, isn't that what hiding's all about? Perhaps then the cruel part was hiding at all. But you can't shake Tyler's vicious words, "Y'know, if you don't stop trying to hold me back, maybe I should just cut myself loose."

All this over a tornado? His lifestyle is... intense. You are of the opinion that Tyler's hobby is ridiculously dangerous, and while you're slightly comforted by the safety precautions he takes (especially the drills that anchor his truck into the ground), you're less than impressed with the way he shows off and makes those precautions almost useless. Really, does he need to lean out of the window to see how long he can handle it? You'd only been trying to find some middle ground, but Tyler apparently seems to think you're trying to chain him up in the basement to prevent him from ever having any fun.

There's a secluded cabinet in the back of your laundry room that's perfect for hiding - just big enough to fit in and with an outlet for easy phone charging. You're just about to hit your two hour mark huddled in the cabinet when you hear thundering footsteps nearing your location.

"Baby? Hey, baby, y'gotta tell me where you are. Come on, baby, just wanna know you're safe. You in here?"

That's the last thing you hear before daylight spills into your dark cabinet, and your phone's screen becomes instantly duller in comparison. You glare up unimpressed at Tyler but his face crumples in relief so fast that you can barely hold the expression.

"Shit darlin'." He heaves a sigh, and any sympathy you'd felt for him instantly disappears when he has the gall to scold you next, "Do you know how damn long I've been looking for you?"

"Oh I'm sorry," You bite up at him, rage reigniting in your eyes, "Does my need for space inconvenience you?"

"No!" He nearly shrieks, but he reins himself in, "No, no, that's not- I shouldn't have said it like that. I was just worried."

"Well I'm not sure why," You turn back to your phone, but there's no concentration present as you mindlessly scroll, "I'd have expected you to be out enjoying your freedom seeing as you're cutting yourself loose."

"I'm not cutting myself loose." He vows, and it's soft instead of his typical drawl. He crouches, then makes the terrible, horrible decision to attempt to fit into the crawlspace with you.

"No- no, Tyler, you can't fit!" You squeal as he shoulders his way in, pressed flush to his body as he settles in a space half his size.

"It's fine." He grunts, but it's labored and very much not fine, "I just wanna be near you."

"I don't wanna be near you." You sneer, but you make no move to get up, "The whole reason I'm squeezed into this cabinet is because I was trying to hide from you."

"Did a damn good job, too." He admits, head slumped against the wall instead of your shoulder, "I was runnin' around for almost half an hour."

"Serves you right." You grumble, "Don't say mean shit if you want people to like you."

"I know." He reaches out and sets a hand on your knee, chaste and reassuring, "I'm sorry, darlin'. I just- lost control, or something. I don't know. I've been doin' this my whole life, and when you try to tell me how to do it, it makes me feel like you don't think I can handle it myself."

"Tyler, no one can. Some of the things that you're doing-" You stop yourself short, "I'm not saying you can't have fun. I'm not saying you can't chase- er, wrangle tornadoes. I'm just saying you don't have to keep trying to outdo yourself. There has to be a limit, otherwise you'll get killed."

He's silent after your speech, perhaps mulling it over, perhaps drafting his counterargument. In the end, he tips his head from the wall to your shoulder, and murmurs close to your ear.

"Yeah. You're right. I think... I think I just don't know when to stop sometimes."

"I agree with that," You try to keep too much accusation from seeping into your tone, "But that's why I said something. I don't want you to stop, I just don't want it to stop you."

"Yeah. Alright. I understand." And he sounds like he does. He laces his fingers with yours like he does, and he cranes his neck to peck his lips against your cheek like he does.

"You're not holding me back," He promises, "What I said earlier... that was dumb. This is a partnership, not some sort of prison sentence. I love you, darlin'."

"I love you too," You sigh, leaning sideways into his embrace, "You promise no more hanging out of windows?"

"I promise I won't anymore. Can't promise nothin' for Boone."

"Boone's crazy," You laugh, "You're all crazy. I just want you alive and crazy."

"Deal." Tyler grins, holding out a pinky and letting you lock it with yours, "Alive and crazy, darlin'."

[boothillzvhs]

·˚ [featuring] !! ' ᵇᵒᵒᵗʰⁱˡˡ ˣ ᶠᵗᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ !

cw — ftm!reader. dom!boothill. bondage, fingering, praising, squirting, blindfold sex, dub-con, t4t sex :3

౨ৎ....................................................................................................................౨ৎ

“you're doin' so well for me sugar.. ” 

he praised, rubbing your inner thigh as you rode his strap, kissing you all over for taking him so well "mmh...b-boothill..its too..big...!" you squirmed, trying to get used to the size "we can change the size if ya' want sweetie.." boothill said, his voice laced with concern.

"n-no no..its fine, don't worry, It just hurts..' you rested your head on his shoulder, his hand caressing your hair, "givin' up already ?" you nodded, "ill give you a bit of help.. 'kay ?" he kissed your forehead, starting slowing, he slid a finger inside "ah..! boothill~!" he shushed you "shh.. its okay baby, try loosing up a bit.." he kissed your forehead.

"hah..feels good.." he smirked at your remark "oh..?~ it does, doesn't it sugar?" he chuckled a bit, caressing your face with his thumb, your arms held in place with the rope he usually doesn't use during sex.

your vision blocked by a blindfold, and your legs bonded together, "how you holdin' up sugar? " he asked when he heard a sharp gasp coming from you, caressing your cheek, "I'm goin' to add another finger in 'kay? tell me to stop if its to much sweetheart." he kissed you before adding another finger "mmh..i_i'm ..f-fine.." you rasped "atta' boy.." he curled his fingers up to that spot you love so much.

boothill feels like he’s about to burst, he NEEDS you to beg him to never stop “ah… ah boothill, mhng!” Spit drippin' from the corners of your lips, "does this spot right here feel good babes ?" he grinned, curling his fingers up onto your g spot "hah....mhh...y-yah... it feels so good..." you said with tears running down your cheeks, he nodded, sliding a third finger inside you.

"too much??" he asked "everything's 'kay..i_i think I'm ready..please put it in.." you begged, "alright babe, if ya' say so, just tell me when yer' close 'kay?" he rubbed your arm in a comforting way, lining himself up to your hole, slowly sliding the tip in "take it easy prince...just let yourself get used to it 'kay?.." he kissed your nape.

"haaahh...boot..hill" your eyes shut close when he grinded into your g-spot, your body quivered, he chuckled "good..good boy.." you couldn't take it anymore !! "boothill..! please... fuck me..!" you cried out, "so eager!" he barked out a laugh, flashing his sharp teeth " of course..anything for you prince.." he said, flipping on your back, then plunging deep himself into you, earning a loud moan from you.

"uhaah!!" a moan ripped from your throat, "nng..ah.. you look so beautiful underneath me like this, suger..." "mo-more!! please..!! more!!" you plead. "shh..your doing so well for me.." he purred in your ear seductively, a whine escaping your lips, too fucked out to give a answer, "m' goin'.. fuck ya..' so good you won't be walkin' for days" he says, your body trembled, and your walls clinched around him.

"ooh..? gonna cum..?" he asked, all ready knowing the answer, "I want cha' to let go, give me a big one..~" he whispered in your ear, "nnH..!! I-im going to cum, I-its to much!!~" you said, "nngh!!" you arched your back, as you twitched uncontrollably, coming all over boothill and the sheets.

"good boy.." he purred, licking his lips, kissing you on the forehead, drool dripping from your mouth, your eyes fluttering close, but he woke you up with a slap on your thigh "who said we were done??" he grinned, patting your cheek, a couple more rounds won't hurt right ?? >:3

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Daryl caught you yawning for what seemed like the fourth time in a very short period. He nudged you gently with the back of his hand.

"Hmm?" You glanced over and met his blue eyes.

"Ya alrigh'? Ya seem tired," he said.

"Oh. Yeah... I'm fine. I've just—I've been having... weird dreams lately," you explained. "I keep waking up wondering what the hell my subconscious is trying to tell me."

Daryl's brow creased with worry. "What kinda weird dreams?"

You shrugged. "I dunno... just... strange ones. Some about... what's happened to me before... but it isn't quite right or it's all jumbled." You glanced over at him. "You've been in a couple actually," you said, smiling at him.

"Me?" he asked, surprised and perplexed.

"Yeah," you laughed. "They're all out of context though. Like—I think one of the ones you were in we were at my childhood home and around where I grew up."

Daryl rubbed a hand nervously over the back of his neck. "Doin' what?"

You squinted, straining to remember. "I don't remember really." You shook your head and shrugged again. "Actually, the ones you're in don't bother me, though. I always wake up from them feeling—good, I guess. They're nice," you said catching his blue eyes again. You gave him a warm smile and his heart jumped into his throat. He felt his face flush.

"Well, tha's good. 'M glad ya didn't call 'em a nightmare with me in 'em," he joked sardonically.

"Hey!" you scolded him. "Don't talk about yourself like that! Daryl—you know that I—that you're my favorite. You know that right?"

"Yeah, yeah..." he murmured, ducking your gaze. "If ya say so."

"I do."

Prompt: "I've been having weird dreams."

[wolvietxt]

heyy, congrats on 1000!! 🎉

i’d like daryl with the prompt below:

“it’s the middle of a heated argument, voices raised, hands gesturing wildly. suddenly, they stop mid-sentence, chest heaving. “you’re all i ever think about,” they blurt out, the anger draining from their face as if they only just realized it themselves.”

(from the “unexpected confessions” list)

thanks so much!🤍

DARYL was sitting in the corner of the cabin, sharpening his knife, while you paced the floor, words spilling out in a rush of frustration. it started over something stupid. it always did. 

"you can't just keep shutting me out, daryl," you said, throwing your hands up. "every time i try to help, you act like i'm some kind of burden!"  

"ain't about you helpin'," he shot back, his voice rough, eyes glued to the blade in his hands. "it's about you gettin' hurt 'cause you don't think things through."  

"oh, so now i don't think things through? that's rich, coming from the guy who runs off without a word and comes back covered in blood half the time!"  

his eyes snapped up at that, sharp and blue like storm clouds ready to break. "you think i don't know what i'm doin' out there? you think i ain't got it handled?"  

"that's not what i meant!" your voice rose, and before you could stop yourself, you were right in front of him, arms crossed and glare locked on his face. "but you can't handle everything alone, daryl! no one can!"  

"been doin' fine so far," he muttered, standing abruptly and towering over you, his posture tense. "you just don't get it. this ain't about bein' fine. it's about survivin'."  

"surviving isn’t the same as living!"  

he let out a sharp exhale, his hands clenching at his sides. "ain't got the luxury to live, not with how things are. you think this is some kinda fairytale? we got walkers everywhere, people worse than 'em, and all you do is - "  

"what? all i do is what, daryl?" you challenged, stepping closer. "care about you? worry about you? because that's all i’m trying to do!"  

"then stop worryin'! i ain't your problem to fix!" his voice thundered, louder than you'd ever heard it, cutting through the tension like a blade.  

you stared at him, chest heaving, hands gesturing wildly as the words tumbled out. "you’re impossible, you know that? you push me away, but you don't want me to go. you want me close, but you don't let me in. what the hell do you want from me, daryl?"  

he opened his mouth to retort, but the words caught in his throat. instead, he stood there, his breathing ragged, shoulders rising and falling like he’d just run a mile. and then, as if it had struck him like lightning, his expression softened, anger draining from his face.  

“you’re all i ever think about,” he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. his gaze locked on yours, raw and unguarded, like he was seeing you for the first time - or maybe realizing something he’d been trying to deny for far too long.  

your breath caught, the silence between you suddenly deafening.  

“what?” you whispered, barely audible, as if saying it louder would break whatever spell had just been cast.  

his hands twitched at his sides, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “i said… i think ‘bout you. all the damn time.” he looked away, his jaw tightening, but not before you caught the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “don’t know how to stop.”  

you blinked, trying to process his words, the heat of the argument still lingering in the air but quickly fading under the weight of his confession. “daryl…”  

he cut you off, shaking his head like he couldn’t bear to hear whatever you were about to say. “just forget it, alright? shouldn’t’ve said nothin’.”  

but you weren’t about to let him retreat now, not after everything he’d just let slip. “no,” you said firmly, taking a step closer. “you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to drop something like that and walk away.”  

he scoffed, but there was no real heat behind it. “ain’t walkin’ away. just don’t wanna make this harder than it already is.”  

“harder?” you asked, your voice softening. “what’s so hard about admitting you care about someone?”  

his gaze snapped back to yours, and for a moment, he looked almost angry again, but it wasn’t the same. it was frustration, confusion, and something else - something gentler.  

“’cause if somethin’ happens to you, i wouldn’t… i couldn’t…” he trailed off, his voice breaking, and suddenly, all the walls he’d built around himself came crashing down. “damn it, i don’t know how to do this.”  

your heart clenched at the sight of him, this man who was always so strong, so sure of himself, now looking utterly lost. “you don’t have to know how,” you said softly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “we can figure it out together.”  

he stared at your hand like it was something foreign, something he didn’t quite know how to handle, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.  

“don’t wanna mess this up,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.  

“you won’t,” you assured him, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “but you have to let me in, daryl. you can’t keep shutting me out.”  

he nodded, almost imperceptibly, and for the first time since the argument started, you saw a flicker of hope in his eyes. “alright,” he said gruffly, his voice thick with emotion. “alright.”  

a small smile tugged at your lips, and without thinking, you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the stubble on his jaw. “see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?”  

he huffed a quiet laugh, the sound so rare it made your chest ache. “guess not.”  

and then, before either of you could second-guess it, he leaned down and kissed you. it was tentative at first, almost unsure, but when you kissed him back, his hands found your waist, pulling you closer like he never wanted to let go.  

when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, but the tension that had been simmering between you for weeks - months, even - was gone, replaced by something warmer, something infinitely more comforting.  

“you’re all i ever think about, too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.  

he smiled, just a little, and for the first time, you saw the man behind all the walls, the one who cared so deeply he didn’t know how to show it. “guess we’re both screwed then,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious.  

you laughed softly, resting your forehead against his. “yeah, i guess we are.” 

ᰔ daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz

@california-boys-and-sun, @cable-kenobi, @omen-keke, @hhiggs, @iheartpeterparker3000

@withasideofmeg, @corvuscattus

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Been an awful good girl

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: Your roommate brings you along to a holiday gathering without much cheer.

Character: Steve Kemp

Day Sixteen of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - I'm your present.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“I don’t know about this. I don’t really know them as well as you,” you say as Lindy's thumb flicks on the steering wheel to hit the ‘next track’ button. 

“How so? We hang out all the time,” she snorts. 

“No, you hang out with them all the time. I’m just... a hanger on.” 

“Bull shit. Everyone loves you. Besides, what were young going to do? Sit home alone and mope.” 

“Yes,” you huff. “I really appreciate you inviting me but it seems very... intimate.” 

“Boo,” she rolls her eyes as she follows the subtle curve of the country road. “Really, it’s no big deal. Steve’s place is huge. Really, I told you to come in the summer.” 

“Some of us work.” 

“I work. Sometimes,” she giggles. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean...” 

“Oh, I know exactly how spoiled I am. Don't worry. It’ll be fine. Everyone’s going to be drinking anyway.” She sighs, “honestly, would you really rather be going home to face your stuffy family? Definitely not me.” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” you drone. “I don’t know. I was kind of looking forward to a Christmas alone.” 

“Pfft,” she blows a raspberry. “Well it’s too bad, because I know who drew you in the gift swap and it wouldn’t be very courteous to ghost.” 

“I’m here,” you whine. 

“Because you’re a good girl,” she sticks her tongue out as she peeks over at you. “You ever think that people like having you around because of that? You’re the perfect contrast to me. The Mufasa to my Scar, the Woody to my Buzz, the uh... Gandalf to my Saruman.” 

“Wow, a Tolkien reference, I’m impressed,” you snicker. 

“You remember that guy, Jensen. Aside from crying when he cums, he loves that shit,” she scoffs. “It was endearing but the tears weren’t.” 

“Ew, wow, uh, thanks for that information.” 

“Anytime, sweetie,” she trills. 

She drives on, into the dark sentinels and grim back roads. As the evening falls, the silver moon shines through the branches and needles. Despite the beaming saucer, the sky hangs like a dark sheet of satin. 

There are lights ahead. Windows aglow with life within. Other vehicles litter the large lot. You must be the last ones to get there. You’re not surprised. Lindy is always late. 

She parks without much concern for the other vehicles. You’re patient as she takes her time getting out. You don’t want to take the lead on this one. You follow her to the trunk to grab your bag and she takes hers, nearly shutting the lid on you. 

You head towards the cabin. You nearly trip up the steps as the only lights are those inside and the sole bulb beside the door. As you clatter up, you hear a strange creak. You wince and look over at the shadow that stands from the porch swing, the back knocking against the house siding. 

“Hey, was starting to think you weren’t coming,” Steve says as he steps into the yellow sheen of the porch light. The creases and angles of his face swallow the shadows perfectly.  

“Huh, oh, hey,” Lindy has one hand on the door. “Whatcha doin’ out here? Waiting for us?” 

“Sure,” he chuckles, “was getting a bit warm inside. Plus, Ransom’s been into the tequila.” 

“That sounds fun,” she giggles. 

“Maybe for you,” Steve sniffs.  

“Oh Steve, once I get some in me, I can be a whole lotta fun two,” she purrs. “And once I’m not standing out in the cold.” 

“Door’s open,” he says. “Hey, good to see you.” 

You meet his eyes, you think. His face is mostly hidden. You try to smile but it feels more like a grimace. “You too.” 

“You bring something for the gift swap?” 

“Course we did!” Lindy tosses over her should as she pushes down the lever of the door handle. 

“Uh, yeah,” you pat the strap of your bag. 

“Here, let me get those,” he offers. He grabs your napsack by the handle on top then slips between you and Lindy to take her D&G bag. “I’ll put them in your rooms. If you make it to yours, Lin.” 

“And we’ll see if you make it back to yours,” she snipes back. “Come on, sweetie,” she grabs your hand, “let’s go bug the others.” 

“Um, thanks, Steve,” you say. "Um, one second.” You reach for the zipper on your bag and undo it. You take out the paper gift bag then tug the tab back. “Thanks.” 

He smiles as he hooks your bag over his shoulder. He wears a deep blue sweater, his usual look, and his hair is floppy around his chiseled square face. You wonder about Lindy’s joke. Steve’s married to Ann, isn’t he? 

You Lindy her drag you away after you hang your coat. The rabble of voices beckons you into the front room where a fire crackles in the large fireplace. A table is draped in plaid and bowls and platters line the top. Ann is there, scooping sauce with a spoon onto a small saucer with crackers and cheese. 

“There they are,” she beams. “Girls. We’re finally balanced.” 

You tilt your head and look around. There’s three men in the room; Ransom, Charles, and Andrew. Four if you count Steve, and there’s one other woman besides Ann; Juliette. That would make four men and four women. Not that it really matters. 

“Don’t forget to put your gifts beneath the tree,” she points to the artificial fir. 

You put your bag underneath with the wrapped gifts and Lindy follows. She searches her pockets and pulls out a plastic gift card. Whoever she got will be drinking a lot of specialty coffees. She tosses it on the biggest box there. 

“Come, have some cider!” Juliet insists, “we added whiskey.” 

“Don’t get too wild, girls,” Andrew intones. 

It’s a bit awkward to refer to thirtysomethings as girls but you don’t pay it much mind. He doesn’t seem like he’s in a great mood. You wonder if it has anything to do with his wife Lori, being absent. 

Juliet hands you a crystal mug of cider. You sip it tentatively but Lindy eagerly guzzles it down. She leaves you without a word as she heads over to Ransom. He sits in a chair with a bottle of Tito’s in one hand and a cup of soda in the other. 

You peer around awkwardly and sway. Great. It’s not that you don’t get along with these people, you just find it hard to relate. Now that you’re here, that big question rings in your head. Why did you come? You’ve known these people as long as Lindy and yet, they are her friends, not yours. Still, you can’t name a single thing they’ve done that could justify you hating any of them. They more so inspire indifference, if not dejection. 

“You still working at the college?” Andrew startles you as he approaches with his short tumbler of dark liquor. You didn’t think he drank. He was always telling Lori to slow down. 

“Um, yeah,” you turn to him and run a finger nervously behind your ear. “How’s the, uh, attorney-ing going?” 

He shrugs, “thinking of starting a private practice. Maybe. Might have to relocate...” 

“Oh, that sounds like a big change.” 

“Lots of those,” he grumbles. You have a feeling you shouldn’t ask about his wife. 

“Yeah, I’ve been looking for a new gig. College is nice but a bit stagnant.” 

“Oh yeah? I could use an exec assistant if I do go to a firm,” he says. 

“Wow, really, uh, well, I guess that would be a big if,” you push your shoulders up. 

“Andy,” Steve appears, “don’t tell me you’re bringing her down with your sad sack schtick. We’ve all had enough.” 

“No, I was actually offering her a job. Possibly. What do you want? To annoy us with your slimy schtick? Go bug your wife.” 

“Woah, buddy, nothing meant by it. Just a joke. Thought maybe I could cheer you up. But I see why you went with this one,” Steve gestures to you. “She’s a sweetheart.” 

“Uh, oh, thanks,” you mutter into your cup. “Um, you know, we drove quite a ways. Could I use the bathroom?” 

“Sure thing,” Steve puts his hand on your shoulder and points back to the doorway, “down that hallway and to the right. Let me know if you get lost.” 

“Thanks, er, I’ll be back,” you sidle away and set your cup down on the table. You flee without looking back. You still can’t think of a good reason why you came. Not aside from the favour to Lindy. Sometimes, you think even she finds them too much. 

🎀

“I think all the gifts are under the tree so everyone can grab theirs whenever. You have to guess who got you by breakfast tomorrow!” Ann declares. 

The din doesn’t break. There are nods in her direction but most are unconcerned. Of course. You feel a bit dumb for spending so much time trying to find something for Ransom. He isn’t easy to buy for with his expensive tastes. He’s not even in the room... nor is Lindy. 

You don’t really care about yours. You really just want to go to bed. You wait and watch. No one else goes toward the tree. Sigh. You don’t want to seem like a vulture waiting to take your share of the carrion. 

After a while, Ann wanders over. She bends and moves around some of the presents. She picks up the gift card with sharpie on it. She rolls her eyes. She has that drunken wobble in her head as she stands and curls her lip at the gift. You feel bad for her. Lindy really didn’t try very hard. You even think she regifted that. 

Charles and Juliet go together. Both have more substantive prizes. They chatter as they return to the sofa. You get up and glance around. Everyone seems distracted; by each other or by their phones. You tiptoe over.  

You read each tag. You count the presents and tally up only seven total, including those already taken. You crane back and forth as you try to see if there’s a stray one around the back. You nod and back away, trying not to show your disappointment. 

You’re not surprised. You don’t know that whoever got you forgot so much as they didn’t both. You told Lindy, you’re the odd one out. You’re only invited because you’re roommates. To be honest, it’s mostly because she’s clingy. 

You yawn and check the time. You don’t care about a gift. You peek around. Steve is standing at the window, staring out at the moon. The eerie light gives his features an odd glow. 

You approach him, “uh, hey, can you show me what room is mine? I’m pretty beat.” 

He sets his glass on the window ledge and turns to you with a grin, “gladly.” 

He leads you away from the window, the darkness solid and thick. You walk out of the front room and he takes you around the staircase. 

“I hope you don’t mind. I gave you the room down here. The rest are upstairs...” he explains. 

“It’s fine. I appreciate you thinking of me.” 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that? You don’t think people do?” 

“No, I didn’t mean—I just... It was nice of you to invite me.” 

“Of course. You’re a nice girl. Lindy isn’t,” he chuckles, “you even her out.” 

“She’s not that bad,” you argue unconvincingly. 

“Sure. She can be... sweet when she wants something.” 

“Hm,” you hum. 

He stops outside a door and taps on it, “this is you.” He turns to face you, “I know what you’re thinking. Why are we friends if we don’t like each other? Sometimes, you just can’t get rid of people.” 

You nod awkwardly. You don’t want to be involved. You never really thought they hated each other, you just thought that was normal for them. That they were all a little bit abrasive. 

“So, the gift swap. You got Ransom, I see.” 

“How...” 

“I shouldn’t have been a snoop but I did see the tag when you took the bag out,” he smirks. “Oops.” 

“Uh, yeah, well, I don’t even think he’ll like it. It’s just socks. The only thing I could afford from the designer.” 

“Like he’d know the difference between a knock-off and the real thing. He’s new money,” he turns the knob and pushes the door open. “Bag’s on the bed for you.” 

“Thanks. Again,” you step past him as he flips on the light. “This is a really nice cabin. Must be nice in the summer.” 

“Maybe you’ll see next year,” he says. “So what about you? What do you think of your gift?” 

“Ummm,” you draw out as you shuffle into the room, “I...” 

The door clicks and you turn to face him. He’s just inside, standing in front of it, in almost a sinister way. Filling the frame so you couldn’t get past him if you tried. 

“Well,” he puts his hands on his hips. 

“What?” You blink. 

“Your present. I'm your present,” he tilts his head, “Merry Christmas.” 

“But... Ann?” You utter. 

“Ann what? You think she cares? She might if she wasn’t on her phone sexting the anesthesiologist from my office. Wonder if he puts her under before they... you know?” 

You shake your head, “oh, I’m sorry--” 

“Look, I don’t wanna worry about all that. I’m your secret santa,” he opens his arms as he comes closer, “guess I shoulda put a bow on me.” 

“I... Steve, I’m not... I’m sorry but I can’t--” 

He stops before you and presses his finger to your lips, hushing you. 

“It’s not polite to turn away a gift someone put a lot of thought into. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” He drawls. You squeak as he drags his fingertips down and turns his hand to cradle your chin. “Plus, if Ann was so concerned and she came in to find you seducing her husband, well, I’m not sure she’d let you stay.” 

“Steve,” your eyes tinge hotly. “Why?” 

“Why what?” He bites his lip and hooks his arm around you, bringing you flush against him. “I’m giving you exactly what you need, honey.” 

[bigfan-fanfic]

Tradition and Ritual (Male!Reader x Dean Winchester)

Could I request a full fic where Dean does the classic asking his bf's very approving dad for permission before popping the question? Just full, teeth-rottingly-sweet fluff.

Dean isn't necessarily dense. He can be pretty clever at times, though he's not a great wit.

But there is just some kind of mental block when it comes to your father.

Maybe it's his own awful relationship with his own, but he seems almost afraid of your dad.

This is despite the fact that the man is a total sweetheart, and has been your biggest shipper since you first told him you were going to ask Dean out.

Your dad loves Dean - he's always talking him up to you about his skill with cars at the machine shop.

When you and Dean got a place together, your dad has been super excited, certain a proposal can't be far behind.

"Daaaaad!" You protest, and he chuckles.

"What? He's an old-fashioned kind of guy, despite his past. I bet he wants Sweet Child O' Mine played when you walk down the aisle."

You roll your eyes. "Maybe we don't count my chickens before they hatch?"

"You mean your rings before they... get fingered? Nope. Not that."

Your dad chuckles at the weird phrasing. "You two going on another date later?"

"Yeah, he's taking me to dinner tonight."

"Oooooooh..." your dad teases. "Proposal alert!"

"Dad...."

"Fine, fine, just teasing. I won't blab to him at work, don't worry."

"Thank you." You say, smiling as you say goodbye as he heads off to the shop.

Dean is already there prepping when he arrives.

"Heya, kiddo." your dad grins at Dean.

"Ah! Sir."

"Whoa, you're jumpy today."

Dean chuckles nervously. "Yeah, I guess so."

Dean tries to play it off and leave his nervousness behind, but he's anxious all day.

He's clumsy today, accidentally dropping tools more than once and jumping when addressed.

Your dad is pretty concerned about him, and asks him to take his lunch break at the same time as him so they can talk.

"Hey, Dean-O. You doin alright?"

Dean sighs. "I... Look, I know I'm not a very... appealing guy, you know, for your son."

"Whoa, what are you talking about?"

"I'd be protective too, and I-"

"Dean! Dean. Calm down."

Your dad reaches across the table to put a hand on Dean's shoulder to steady him.

Dean looks at him. "It's... there's a right way of doing these things. And I... I love your son, sir. I really do. I know we moved in together and all, but... You have been so kind and welcoming to me, and... honestly, a lot more like a dad to me than my own dad was. And I just wouldn't feel right if I didn't..."

Dean runs out of words or breath, and falls silent, trying to calm himself.

"Say what you need, Dean-O." your dad says softly.

"I want to ask for your blessing. To marry your son. I was planning on proposing tonight."

"Oh my god!" Your dad jumps up and practically scurries around the table to draw Dean into a big hug.

The poor man is so stunned by this enthusiastic reaction, his eyes wide, arms hanging limply by his side.

"Kiddo, this is fantastic! Oh, god, he's gonna flip!"

"So, you... you're okay with-"

"Absolutely! You don't need my permission or my blessing, but I give it wholeheartedly. I'm so happy for you both, kiddo."

Dean tries not to cry, but his eyes are misty, and your dad isn't exactly unmoved either. It's something Dean has loved about him - your dad is masculine enough in his eyes to own and enjoy running an auto shop, but he doesn't feel ashamed at all about showing his feelings.

"I'm so proud of you, Dean-O."

"Thank you, sir."

"Ah! Ah-ah. You gotta call me Dad now."

Dean blinks several times, before he breaks out into a grin. "Yeah. Yeah, thanks... Dad."

Your dad is all smiles that evening when Dean leaves to go shower and pick you up for dinner.

But not as happy as Dean, who is practically glowing. He's about to join himself to you together, and even more, he finally has another father figure in his life who actually cares about him and supports him.

[gothic-thoughts]

Music To My Ears

Gojo Satoru x Black GN Reader Smut

MDNI, Perv Coworker!Gojo, Bimbo!Reader

CW: all the dirty words(he's a whore), stupid and oblivious Reader, Gojo jerking 📴 to your voice, reader being fluent in Yapanese 😭, imma degrade y'all cuz u lack brain cells

Word Count: 1191 (give or take)

It was 11 pm, and you were on the phone with your coworker, Satoru. You've been talking for about an hour now, but after a while, you noticed soft huffing and heard soft panting. Since there's not much going on up there, all you thought to do was tilt your head to the side with confusion. You shrug it off and continue to yap, but the longer he listened, the more he groped and palmed his erection through the grey sweats he wore.

“Uh, Gojo?” Your first mistake was saying his name.

“Yeah? What’s up, girlie?”

“You good?"

"Say again?" He heard you perfectly fine, but you can't tell can you?

"I asked if you were good. You workin' out right now?"

“Hah, yeah.” He responds before muttering, “I'm workin' somethin', ngh."

“Huh? You keep mumbling, Toru.”

"Hehe, don't worry about it." More panting "Just...continue your story."

You shake your head, believing his panting really came from a workout regimen, knowing damn well the strongest sorcerer don't need one.

“So like I was saying...”

He chuckled and made a low growling noise as he reached into his sweatpants, feeling how damp his boxers were from how much precum soaked into them. He bit his lip, slowly pulling out the erection that you caused from that voice you blessed him with. Every inflection, filler word, and gasp when you remembered another part of your story drove him so wild.

“And then I was like, ‘Ohmygod, Shoko’s not working for once?’ So I ran up to her...”

He grunts, trying his best to keep his voice away from the whiney territory he knew it could rise to if he felt too good. To you, his breathing sounded a bit...off, as if it sounded heavy and...well, different than normal. But he was working out, of course, he’d sound like that.

“The only reason I hesitated was because I feel like she don’t like me...”

With every passing moment, his fist passed over his shaft while his left hand kept a firm hold around his base, keeping him from exploding too soon, and with how often you clicked your tongue or sucked your teeth, he could’ve at any moment.

“Do you think she likes me; ion think she likes me. Anyways, though...”

The grunting sound only grew in pitch as the groans started to sound more...animalistic, mouth forming a smirk. He whispers your name, guiding his hand up and down his cock a little faster, getting the palm sticky with precum.

“Toru...” The concern in your voice makes his hand stop, “You sure you okay?

He bites his lip as he moans softly, watching another drop of precum squeeze out his tip and slide down to his still fist. "Yeah... heh...” 

“You huffin’ like a dog.”

“Oh sorry. I’m doing... I’m doin’ some push-ups right now so..." 

"Ohhhh, aight."

"Keep talking, short stuff."

"You even listening, Gojo?"

"Of course I am, I can, ngh, multitask."

"Mmm..."

The little hum of yours made him bite his bottom lip so hard that it bled. "I mean it, girlie." He sighs, "Hanging on every word. You were talking about your shopping spree."

"Oh yeah! I got a bunch of clothes with Utahime today! And they are the fuckin’ cutest! Like, there’s one that was...”

He groaned quieter as he heard you continue on, pumping his hand up and down to the speed your excited voice spoke. His fist twists with each stroke, grinding his red, sensitive cockhead into his palm which makes him shiver. The sound of his breathing had become noticeably heavier and deeper. He didn't respond just yet, instead, he only let out low grunts and 'mhm's in response to what he heard you say. He started to lift his hips from his bed, fucking his fist while pretending it was him making you ride him.

“And I got new lip gloss. Like a lot of lip gloss; cuz you know me...”

He did, in fact, know you; meaning that you prolly got almost every color, scent, and flavor imaginable just to try out. That sentence was all it took for the strongest sorcerer's mind to switch from thoughts of how good you'd feel bouncing on his long dick to how soft and wet your mouth was. You talk so much so it's gotta be moisturized as hell, not like he wouldn't make you use so much spit it made the colors on your lips smear around his veined shaft.

He whined into the speaker as you rambled, but TRUST he was listening. His eyes were rolled back, his hand began pumping faster, massaging the swollen head of his cock while his free hand gripped the base. He wanted to smear that lip gloss, stick, whatever so bad; just the thought of leaving your plump lips and chin stained with white and whatever other color made his full balls tense.

"H-hey, short stuff? You think you can you count down from 10 for me?"

"Yeah, why?"

"For my workout, remember?"

"Ohhh, right." You let out another oblivious giggle, "I forgot about that."

"Y-yeah, I'm, uhm, planking... and I'm al-most....done. Count for me."

"Kaykay. Ten.... nine..."

His hand slows down, trying to time his orgasm with that sexy voice. Gojo groaned and grunted, letting it all out since your dopey ass wholeheartedly believed he was tired from overexertion.

"Eight... seven..."

"Yesss~" He whispered, "Suck it, baby girl, that's it. Show me those eyes."

His breath got shallow as he looked down at his thighs, imagining you were scratching at them while your glazed-over eyes blinked up at him.

"Six... five..." 

"Yeah, not a fuckin' thought behind them, huh? F-uck, lemme give your mouth somethin' else to do."

Unable to help himself, he speeds up his hand, coating his entire dick in his own precum. His back arches from the bed as his hips thrust up, fucking his fist as you got close to one.

"Four.... three..."

"So fucking close, s'fuckin' close. I'm...gonna...cum. W-wanna cum in your mouth, baby please."

"Two... one."

"Ah, shiiit!!"

He let a resounding, drawn-out growl as pent-up cum spurts from his cock, shooting across his slim fingers. He continued driving his shaft through his fist, body shaking on his bed as his load continued to spill over his hand. He finally calms down, resting on his bed, and looking down at the cum all over his abs and lower stomach, clinging to his happy trail and pubes. 

"Damn," Your voice snaps him out of it, "Did you hurt yourself, Toru? That sounded painful?"

"N-no, I'm okay just...." He gulps thickly, collecting himself, "J-just planked longer than I could handle, heh."

"Was that okay? Did I count too fast or...?"

"Haah, no. It was perfect, girlie, th-thanks."

"Oh... uhh..." You tilt that empty head of yours, "What was I saying...?"

"You were talkin' 'bout... gettin' some clothes from Utahime... I think?"

"Oh, yeah! Then I was talkin' bout lip gloss!"

"Yeah, yeah." His cock slowly starts to harden again, putting a tired, yet devious smirk on his face, "Tell me what colors you got."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(a/n): eat up.

[penumbra-mayhem]

An Accidental Bridge

Sam/Darlin' fluff | 1759 words

(I hc Darlin' with a stutter; read here for more.)

--------------------------

Sam’s mind was gently pulled into consciousness as a great horned owl called from outside his bedroom. He glimpsed at the clock on the wall. Nine o'clock. Still late evening, not yet time to be up. Enticed by the owl's promise of a set sun, though, Sam slipped off his blankets.

Bare feet met hardwood as he left the bed, eyes still closed in an attempt to at least stay half-asleep. He shuffled over to his window and pulled back the black-out curtains before feeling around for the latch. His fingers found it just as a sliver of a voice snuck through the silence:

“SSSam?”

He gave a groggy response as he opened the window, “Jus’ gettin’ someair…”

Darlin’ gave a low hum of approval and rolled over to face him. Sam made his way back over and climbed into their bed with all the grace of a drunk bat, eliciting a sleep-laden giggle from his mate.

“Oh, hush,” he grumbled, his smile unwittingly trickling into his voice, “I’m barely awake.” He drew Darlin’ to his chest.

They both drifted in and out of sleep, lulled by the owl’s repeated call. The cool air of early night seeped into their room; the two snuggled further under the covers in response.

"I can feel your magic,” Sam mumbled. It was an uncommon sensation; usually, Darlin' only let their magic extend beyond themself when they felt safe. And they rarely felt safe.

“Yours t-t-too...”

“Feel good?”

Sam felt them nod. He gave them a small kiss before asking, “What’s it feel like?”

Darlin’ drew sleepy circles on his chest as they tuned into his magic. After a few moments of silence, they spoke—slowly, like they were savoring a flavor in their mouth:

“It’s l-l-like….sinking into a wwwarm b-b-bath..it’s like a…b-b-bass…low and in-in the b-back…thrumming…ocean wwwaves under a full mmmoon…immmmense…soothing…l-like aloe v-vera on skin after a-a sunny day…”

Joy swelled in Sam's chest and he tightened his arms around them. “I love the way you put that, darlin’,” he murmured.

Darlin’ smiled softly, sleep tugging at them. “How's mmmine?”

“Yours? Mmm…” Sam allowed Darlin’s magic to seep into him. “Your magic…is like fireworks. Those kinds that you light and then toss into the street to see them spin real quick and change colors…you’re the buzz after a concert...the windswept euphoria when you get off a roller coaster…you’re stargazin' durin' a meteor shower…your magic feels like…like…”

Home.

Darlin’ jumped.

They pushed themself up a bit and stared at Sam with wide eyes.

“What? What is it?” he asked, staring back in concern.

They shook their head. “Fuck, I-I-I heard y-you in-in mmmmy head.”

Sam mouthed a small ‘oh’. Seeing that Darlin’ was more startled than scared, he relaxed slightly. “You think we might of bridged?”

Darlin’ gave a small nod. “I-I didn’t mmmmean t-t-to.”

“Me neither,” Sam assured them, “Guess we were just…in tune with each other.”

They dropped their gaze. "I...I-I haven't d-d-d-done that in-in...in a l-l-l-long t-t-time."

"Me neither," Sam replied. He studied them a moment before asking, "Are you okay?"

They nodded again. "Are-are y-you?"

Sam couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just worried about you."

Darlin' lowered their head back onto his chest. “I-I’m fine. J-just…surprised mmme,” they muttered, trying to slow Sam's heartrate with their words.

Sam ran one hand up and down their back, with the other in their hair. When he felt like they had both reached a state of calm again, he asked, “Is that somethin' you’d be interested in doin' with me?"

After no response, he added, "S'alright if the answer’s no.”

"You don't wwwant that. N-not wwwwith mmme."

Shut down. It was the kind of response he often got from them. It was the kind of response he couldn't stand. He knew it was a form of protection, and they had been getting better about it. But still, every so often, Darlin' would deny him or themself something in the belief that they were broken or unworthy or dangerous. Every time, it simultaneously burned Sam's heart and broke it.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, trying to keep his tone gentle.

Darlin' bit the inside of their cheek. When he was met with no response again, Sam kissed the top of their head and entreated, "Please, Darlin'. You don't have to speak quick. You don't even have to give an explanation. But please don't ignore me entirely."

Fuck. How could words spoken soft as candlelight twist guilt into their gut like a knife? Darlin' buried their face into Sam's chest, breathing in his scent. It steadied them.

Finally, they responded, their voice muffled by Sam's sleepshirt, "It...fucking s-sucks…in-in mmmy head."

There it was.

Sam sighed, "That may be true, for you. But that doesn't mean I don't want to bridge with you. I'm not scared of your thoughts, darlin'."

"B-but you should b-be.”

"But I'm not," Sam pushed back, just a little. Silence fell between them, and he let it. Darlin' had answered his question. There was no point in trying to convince them how he felt. He kissed their head once again in silent reassurance that he was not mad and closed his eyes, hoping to get a bit more sleep.

Darlin' bit harder at the inside of their cheek, their mind buzzing with frustration. The owl outside made itself known again; Darlin' laid in indecision as they listened to it call over and over. They could feel Sam's magic—not reaching out but still present. His magic was safe. He was safe. He was strong. Stronger than they were. Braver. Calmer. Steadier.

When Darlin' finally spoke, their voice was small and soft and scared:

"I-I wwwwant t-to try...if-if you also wwwant t-to."

Sam felt his heart skip. He craned his neck to the side to make eye contact with Darlin' as he asked, "You sure? I don't want you doin' this if you're not really wantin’ it."

"You-you give mmme all of you. I-I wwant to do the same. E-Even if it scares mme," they whispered, "I-I wwwant t-to b-be b-brave for you."

"You don't have to."

"B-but I wwant t-to."

Sam studied their face for a moment before kissing their forehead and whispering, "Alright. Thank you, darlin'. But if we start and you don’t like it, you tell me and we’ll stop, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good…is there a certain way you want to lay or sit?"

"N-n-no. You?"

"Nah, this is perfect."

Sam closed his eyes and leaned his head back against his pillow, running his hand through Darlin's hair. Darlin' closed their eyes as well, listening to Sam's heart.

It was quick. Almost as quick as the first time. When the bridge reformed, Sam could feel Darlin's body tense against his. Through the bridge, he felt the tension in his own muscles. He kissed the top of their head.

It's okay. You're safe.

“Fuck.” Fuck, woah, that's fucking weird.

I'm going to fuck this up.

I shouldn't have done this.

I'm just going to hurt you—

—hey, hey, it's ok.

Fuck, sorry, I'll try to quiet down...

...Do you think anyone's ever tried bridging with more than one person at one time?

If you can do that, could you make a true hive mind?

Bee people. Bee shifters? Are there any insect shifters—

—fuck! Sorry!

"SSSorry..." Darlin' muttered. Sam giggled and stroked Darlin's head. The sensation soothed them both.

You're alright, darlin'.

I don’t mind your thoughts.

But you should—

—shut up, Tank—

—fuck, I wish I would just shut up!

Sorry…

...Your head is so quiet.

Shit, I don't mean quiet like empty I just—

—god I am such an ass!

You're not an ass, darlin'.

Damn, I love you.

I love you.

"I love you, darlin'."

Darlin’s body went lax at the assurance. Their mind stilled for just a moment. Tap tap tap. Darlin’ tapped Sam’s chest three times—a gesture he’d come to learn meant ‘I love you’. The feeling of their own fingers echoed against Darlin’s chest.

I love you, too.

So much.

Fuck what time is it?

Shit, we’ve got to get up soon.

Do we?

It’s…Saturday? Yeah, Saturday.

Fuck yeah, we can stay in bed.

We could make breakfast.

More like you could make breakfast, I’m shit at cooking.

I’m shit at most things.

I don’t even think I’m doing this right—

—you’re doin’ just fine, pup.

Sam’s heart skipped as he realized what he’d just thought. Or maybe it was Darlin’s heart skipping, he couldn’t quite tell. His eyes shot open, and he looked down at Darlin’, whose face was already turning red. Sam’s own face began to burn too.

“Fuck, Darlin’, I’m so sorry.” I’m sorry.

I didn’t mean to think that.

That wasn’t appropriate.

I should have asked before—

—fuck…

For once, Darlin’s head was quiet. Like static. Sam’s stomach fluttered. Or maybe it was Darlin’s. The bridge was somehow deepening, and Sam struggled to differentiate where the feelings were originating.

I know wolves can be particular with those kinds of names.

Especially when their mates aren’t wolves.

I should have asked.

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…

Sam’s thoughts slowed as Darlin’ pressed a soft kiss to his lips. They buried their face into his neck.

“Darlin’?”

I liked that.

You…what? "What?"

Darlin’ groaned quietly, “I-I liked it.”

Call me it again—

—wait, I mean, uh, um…

A grin stretched across Sam’s face. “Oh yeah?” he cooed, stroking the nape of Darlin’s neck.

You like bein’ called pup?

Sam giggled as his stomach fluttered at the word; this time he could tell that feeling definitely came from Darlin’.

You just a little puppy?

My puppy?

“SSSSSaaaammm…” Darlin’ whined.

Sam pulled his body back a bit. Darlin’ turned their head to look up at him. The blush on their cheeks made Sam swoon, but he still had to be sure:

“I can stop, darlin’,” Sam said, his voice soft but serious.

Darlin’ shook their head. “N-no.” It’s just, nobody’s ever called me that…

Sam couldn’t stop grinning. Their blush. The way they ducked their head and avoided his eyes. The weakness in their voice. He rarely saw Darlin’ so bashful.

Well it’s about time…

My sweet puppy…

C’mere… "C'mere."

Darlin’ hummed as they curled themself around Sam once more, tangling their limbs with his. Sam ran his hands through their hair as they traced their fingers over his chest. The two sank into repose as their sensations and thoughts melded and lost origin.

Sam breathed deep and murmured, “Such a good pup.”

Your pup.

[simplyzeeka]

Episode 2. Season 1

Lingering

But I'ma be someone to know soon

Come fuck with me

I aint got no plans for the weekend

Don't know what you was thinking.

Warnings: MDNI! Sweaty Terry in a wife beater, subtle flirting.

Summary: Where Syrae and Terry meet two times too many and sparks seem to fly yet again.

Author's note: everything in italics is a flashback.

Previously on Something Seasonal

Were degrees worth it? A single piece of paper, that only showed that you were eligible to work in a certain field. It didn't guarantee that you would even find work. Syrae often wondered all of this when it was time to open a book and study for her damned Dental Science degree.

With an assignment yet to be submitted, she had to grab her laptop and use her favourite cafés Wi-Fi, since the Wi-Fi in her ran down building was down every other week. Unfortunately for her (and her bank account), that meant she also had to constantly buy something to stay in the café. “Just a coffee will do, thanks.” She said to the waitress with a kind smile before turning back to her laptop.

She was stuck, tired and honestly so over life in general. Having to constantly click in and out of tabs to search for textbooks she couldn't afford was beginning to seem tedious, and she wished she would've gone to the local library instead, but something about the dust there always had her feeling a little itchy. As if her place was any better.

“Fuck me.” She groans lowly, taking off the glasses on her face and placing them on the table. She quickly saved her work and shut her laptop. Clearly she was not going to be the most productive.

Not only was she completely over this degree, she was exhausted from having to now work weekdays at the club. Syrae was falling a bit behind on rent, and that meant having to pick up shifts at the bar. “Thank you very much.” She said to the waitress as they placed her cup on the table.“You're welcome, ma’am. By the way, your check has already been settled by that man over there.”

With a frown, Syrae looks over to where the woman pointed. A tall man, piercing, green eyes and an intimidating aura despite the closed smile on his face. A tall man she has worked overnight trying to get out of her head, especially considering his situation.

“Your fiancé know you here?” A question slips past the sly smile she had on her lips. He chuckles, gaze unmoving, needing to commit her beauty to memory.

“It's my bachelor party, pretty sure she doin’ the same thing as me.” A shrug, he wasn't worried, pretty confident he would maintain his fidelity. “Hmm, a shame really.” her voice echoes, flying like pretty little monarchs into his ear and straight to his stomach.

“And why's that?” Curious, he needed to know, even if it would kill him. “Cause I could've given the greatest dance in your life.” because even if it did, satisfaction would most definitely bring him back. “You still can.” A nonchalant shrug, a mistake more than anything… because once lines blurred, it was hard to draw them again.

“Put it on me, baby.” And who would deny him with eyes like that? Syrae wouldn't, and Indigo? Indigo wouldn't dare to.

She knew she shouldn't entertain this in the slightest. The man was fine… too fine for her own good, but not only that- he was engaged… Well married by now and that was a no-no zone.

So Syrae only smiles, mouths a curt ‘thank you’ before she opened her laptop, trying to look like she was occupied.

Her attempts fail, because Terry frowned at the interaction. Clearly not satisfied, he walked over to her secluded table in meticulous steps, not wanting to seem too forthcoming and eager.

“Uh, hey? Hey, I'm sorry. I figured the message may seem malicious, and that's not the-”

Oh but Syrae was already on his ass, interrupting with a sigh and an unbothered look. “Look, I don't know what you thought this was. But that night was work. I'm not some piece of hot ass you could use to cheat on your wife. I might be a…dancer, but that don't mean I'm unethical.”

Terry placed his coffee on the table and raised his hands in surrender, before looking around then back at her. “Woah woah, that wasn't my intention. I wanted to apologise… for anyway I might have acted that night, actually. I had a bit much to drink, and I don't hold my liquor well.” He explains with a small frown.

Syrae's shoulders relax a bit, he seemed genuine for the most part. “Hmm, you were quite bold.” She jokes with a small smile. “I'm sorry, I just get a lot of thirsty husbands asking shit like that, and-”

It's Terry's turn to interrupt, a short laugh. Too short for Syrae's liking because the rumble was a smooth honey that had little dragonflies fluttering in her stomach. “Nah, you good. I get it. I'm not like that.”

“Of course you not…” Syrae whispered, loud enough for him to hear as they inspected each other with gentle smiles. It took a while for Syrae to notice that their eyes lingered a second too long, so she cleared her throat, pursing her lips as she straightened her posture.

Terry broke his eyes from hers, retrieving his coffee from the table before bidding his goodbyes. “Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, Indigo.”

Syrae internally cringed at the use of her stripper name outside of work, but mustered up a smile anyway. “You too. Thanks…again.” Everything about this was so awkward, she was glad when he simply nodded his head and turned to walk out the café so that she could finally release the breath she was holding.

Until a brown object caught her eyes on the floor. She squints and notices that the plain, brown woven leather just so happened to be his wallet. With determined haste, she stood and ran out the café, eyes scanning the sidewalk only to see nobody.

“Damn. Long ass legs.” She did what any other person would. Opened his wallet in hopes of a number, and luckily for her, she saw a business card with a number on it. Mike's Auto Masters. Below were a few numbers on how to contact the owner, followed under a name. Terry Richmond.

“Welp, looks like we gotta catch him again. God, why are all the fine ones taken.” She whispered before walking back into the café to finish her coffee and retrieve her belongings.

“Can't believe that you, Syrae Belles, is bout to break a rule.” Broisa, a fellow friend of Syrae comments as she lays stomach down on the couch.

Syrae rolled her eyes, a sigh resonated deep in chest. “I'm not breakin’ a rule girl.” She stated, “where else I'm ‘sposed to give this man his wallet?”

Broisa was annoying and noisy, Syrae couldn't believe their friendship survived as long as it did. Broisa was a beautiful dark-skinned woman. Working as a bottle girl at the same club Syrae worked in since she claimed pole dancing was too much of a work out for her.

“At the club? Where he met you?” the sassy woman replies as if the answer was that obvious. “You the one who made this whole rule bout not meeting your clients outside of he club, now here you are… breaking it.”

“I wouldn't say he's my client, Broisa. I only danced for him once.” Syrae defended with a sigh as she popped a chip in her mouth. “Yeah, one dance too many. Now he payin’ for your orders in cafés and shit.”

Syrae regretted telling Broisa about Terry. All she needed was one story to spiral everything into some hot fantasy where Syrae and Terry have an affair, despite her screaming men are trash, specifically for that reason alone.

“Broisa, please. I'm just meetin’ him at his shop tomorrow morning and giving the man back his wallet. Besides, ‘member when I told you he's married.” She emphasised the last word with a raised brow.

“How sure are you that he went through with the wedding?” Broisa throws back, “What if he told his wife he cheated and she left him at the al-”

“Woah now girl, cheat? I barely danced on that pole for an hour.” She laughs worriedly, Syrae doesn't condone cheating. Otherwise she wouldn't have shut himself down so quickly at the café. “Besides, he said that his wife went to a strip club herself.”

Broisa hums in apprehension, she has never really understood going to strip clubs for bachelor and bachelorette parties. Hell, she never understood those parties in general. Like hell will her man ever go to a strip club to celebrate his ‘last day single.’ She would turn that into his last day living.

“Anywho, where you go yesterday?” Syrae deflected with a question, “Had me blowing up your phone like I wanted your help burying a body.”

Broisa perked up at the question with a smile. “Tuh, girl! Tell me why Gage popped up on me?”

And just like that, the girls fell into a different conversation.

Syrae couldn't help but hum at the vast space of the auto repair shop. Clearly this Mike guy just recently built this shop from the ground up, everything was so pristine.

Syrae managed to call the number on the car and actually reached Terry himself, so they could arrange a time to meet a little after she found the wallet.

Back at her dusty apartment, Syrae can't help but to light some candles to help soothe her growing anxiety. Something about talking to this random stranger on the phone had her a little too nervous for a plausible explanation.

Still, she dialled the number and then listened to the phone ring as she eyed the flame on the herbal candle. When he heard the baritone of his voice she damn near slid off the couch. “Hey! Hey… uh. Hi, sorry.”

Embarrassing, that was embarrassing. The earth could open up and swallow her whole. If she still smoked weed, she would need fifteen blunts after this phone call. Syrae urged herself to get herself together in her head, needing so desperately to hold onto some sanity and clarity.

“Hey. I'm sorry, who am I talkin’ to?” And fuck did he have to sound so good? The way the phone amplified his voice made him sound finer than he usually does, despite Syrae only having heard his voice twice.

“Oh sorry, it's the girl from the café. I-Indigo? I got the wallet you dropped with me.” She explains, “Got your number on your business card.”

Terry sighs, seemingly in relief as Syrae interprets. “Fuck. Thank you so much, I was stressed out ‘bout that.” He laughed into the line, and Syrae clenched her thighs at the sound. “It's no problem, where would you like to meet to get it?” She asked immediately, needing to get off this damn phone.

There was silence in the line, “What bout tomorrow? I got an early mornin’ at work. You could pass by the shop and drop it off. That good?” He clarifies.

Stupidly, Syrae nodded her head as if he could see her. But she caught herself quickly and cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. That sound good. See you tomorrow then.”

The inside of the shop was quiet, but Syrae heard the faint sound of soft rock playing at the back. That was probably the garage where all the magic happened. Syrae looked around while walking towards the reception desk. “Mornin’, I’m looking for Terry? Terry Richmond. Here to drop off a package.”

Despite her kindness, Syrae noticed the condescending look the woman behind the desk gave her. “I’m sorry ma’am, he went out.” Syrae frowned at the snide smile on the woman’s face. Syrae couldn't help but laugh sarcastically. “Well in that case… Miranda.” She drags after looking at her nametag, “Could you tell him to come back from wherever he is and honour our appoi-”

“Oh, you’re here already? Is everythin’ alright?” Terry graced the women with his presence. Dressed in a loose wife beater that was tucked underneath blue overalls in which he used the arms to tie around his waist. Rippled arms exposed while he wiped oil from his hands with a cloth.

Syrae quickly averted her gaze from his sweaty build and turned to the receptionist. “Yeah, just peaches and cream. Miranda here was just assurin’ security.” being the petty woman she is, Syrae scrunched her nose at the woman for extra measure.

Terry scratched his neck, noticing the obvious tension. Women, he thought, something always had to be a problem. “O-kay. Let’s go to the workshop. Thanks Randa.”

Syrae suddenly frowned at him, because there was no need for them to go in the workshop, she could have just given him the wallet and went on with her day. She did not vocalise her thoughts however, simply followed his lead.

The workshop smelled like a cacophony of strong smells that had her nostrils burning. The faint scent of Terry’s cologne seemed to soothe the burn. It was messy, tools everywhere and car parts. A number of men carried tyres and tools around as loud machines whirring had her feeling a little overstimulated.

The lingering stares from men made her regret her choice of wearing a skirt, and following Terry back here. Why did she follow him back here again?

Thankfully, the man led them into a secluded room, which seemed to absorb all the noise. His office. “Sorry bout the noise, figured here would be better.”

Syrae looked around the office. It was neat, had her jealous about his consistency to keep his space clean. Her room was always a hotspot for clean clothes on the floor with the way she raided her own closet everyday trying to find an outfit. “Yeah,much better.” she responded nervously, because nothing about being alone with this man was better.

“Oh, your wallet.” she said as she dug into her bag and handed him the leather accessory. “Right, thank you. A lot. I was ramming my head ‘bout it.” he laughed and Syrae reciprocated the gesture.

“You should be. Why you put everything in there? The poor thang can barely close.”

Terry let out a shoulder-shaking laugh, one that had Syrae wondering about how he liked his breakfast in the morning, or whether he preferred movies or reading, morning or night. Out of the two times she’s met him, she’s never seen him smile with all his teeth out like he was now. “Oh so you were snooping?” he asked with one thick eyebrow raised.

Syrae rolled her eyes playfully, “How else was I ‘sposed to find your number, which you have quite a lot, sir. You deal with pharmaceuticals or somethin’?” she eyed the man as he leaned on the desk with his arms crossed over his chest,only further flexing his deliciously muscular arms.

“Now what if I was and you askin’ that so boldly.” He laughed and shook his head. “But nah, I don’t.”

Their eyes lingered a few seconds too long, which Syrae broke her eyes from his. “Oh, I bought you some coffee, just to say thank you… for the other day.” she reached her hand towards him with a short smile. “Ain’t know what you like, so I just went with black with two sugars.”

Terry accepted the coffee with a quiet murmur of gratitude, hummed in gratitude at the taste. The coffee was more or less how he took it. “You did good, how you figured I would like it black though.”

“Well, you seem a little… practical and straight-forward. Someone who appreciates the simpler things in life. And you also look a little broody.”

Terry shook his head, taking no offence to her last comment. He often got people telling him that. Even his wife. “Hmm, and what about you?” he probably should not be flirting, he definitely shouldn't be. But just a little banter wouldn't hurt, and Syrae seemed to have a lot of it, it was refreshing.

“What about me?” and she shouldn't be entertaining any of this, but the way Terry was staring her down with those damn eyes. He was reeling her in, hook, line and sinker.

“Are you simple?” The question was, well… simple. But Syrae began overthinking it. The depth of it had her thinking over her entire life. “Hmm, I believe I’m a little more complex than that.” It was a joke, just something to keep the conversation going, although it should be put to an end, because Syrae failed to realise that Terry had long removed himself from the desk. Probably when she was handing him the coffee, his scent tickled her nose forcibly. Old wood and cocoa butter.

“How complex?” It was a leading question, an eager one too. One that had her slowly blinking to think it over, that had her biting down on her bottom lip. Her heart thumped a little faster, because damn Terry’s eyes were so beautiful. He had no reason being as beautiful as he was, had no reason to send waves of heat to her stomach that made the dragonflies grow tenfold. The fluttering caused a slight feel of nausea in her stomach.

Still, despite being so nervous, she smiled. “You tryna find out?”

Fuck, why did Syrae follow him back here again?

Next on Something Seasonal

[skippingstonez]

idk since we are on the subject of transformation how about hyena reader x Twilight ?

Ya'll my socials are now full of random animal facts and I am living for it!

Howls of Laughter

(Twilight x hyena!Reader)

“Hold still Wind!” You shouted, tapping the hairbrush on top of the kid’s head a little harder than necessary.

“OW! This hurts enough as it is! Don't make it worse!” The kid had unfortunately gotten swallowed up by one of the largest chu-chus you had ever seen, courtesy of Sky's era. Leaving him covered in strange, sticky goo that was still currently clinging to his hair.

You sighed, switching out the brush for the comb you had borrowed from Wild. “Alright fine, I'm sorry. I’ll try to be more gentle but it would help if you stopped wiggling around so much!”

“Yeah good luck with that,” Wars snarked from where he was finishing cleaning up after dinner. “You'll be as gentle as a pack of hungry Gorons. Better say your goodbyes now Sailor.”

You practically snarled at him, chucking the slime coated brush in his direction. The brush narrowly missing his head as he ducked out of the way. 

“See!?” Wars shouted, pointing towards the brush like it had been a moblin spear. “You could have killed me with that thing!”

“You are so damn dramatic. If I wanted to kill you I would simply strangle you with that hideous scarf.” You glared, picking at a small chunk in the back of Wind's head.

Wars gripped onto the blue fabric. His eyes holding your glare as though whoever looked away first would perish on the spot. Arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back to lean against a strong chest. You looked up to see Twilight smiling down at you.

“Don't mind him doll, you're doin just fine.” he leaned down, kissing the top of your head. 

You giggled, leaning into him as he peppered the top of your head with a few more kisses. Your anger towards the Captain put out like water poured on a roaring fire. Leaving you only feeling warm and content in the arms of your boyfriend.

“And I thought the chu-chu slime was gross” Legend groaned, snatching the comb from your hand, nudging you with his hip to get you to move over. You do, allowing him to take your spot and begin taking over the task of getting Wind slime free.

“Awwh ya’lls just jealous.” No longer busy with Wind, he scoops you up into his arms. You burst into another fit of light laughter as he sits down where you just were. Placing you right onto his lap with his arms securely around your waist. 

You wiggled around, adjusting to let yourself get comfortable as you relaxed into him. Your face turning into his chest, catching his woody scent with a hint of hay.

“And you're gonna make me barf.”

“Oh come on Vet, leave them alone.” Sky said, having just tuned into the conversation.

“Yeah Vet, she's within snapping distance. I'd watch out if I were you.”

It was Twilight's turn to glare. “Watch it Cap.”

Wars rolled his eyes “Oh calm down. Honestly the two of you are so-” a hand slammed down on his head, cutting off his retort. Sky smiled innocently behind him.

“That's enough of that.” Sky said. His voice uncannily sweet. 

“Just for that I'm making sure you get second watch tonight!” Wars shouted towards the sleepy knight, rubbing the back of his head.

“Don't worry Sky, I'll take it for ya” Twilight offered, holding you close to him.

You crossed your arms and pouted. You hated when either of you had to take watch. Especially second as it was already the worst shift, starting just as you were getting comfortable and ending with not quite enough time for a full night's rest. It also meant that either of you would have to get up, leaving the other to sleep on alone. And in your case, taking away not only your pillow, but your heat source, seeing as Twilight basically radiated heat constantly.

Sensing your shift in moods, Twilight leaned down. Nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. His breath tickled against your skin making you laugh once more. He smirked against you, doing it again, while purposefully wiggling his fingers into your sides that had you trapped in a tickling, vice grip.

“Twi-haha, Twi stop!” you laughed, trying to pull his hands away from you.

“We second that!” Legend scowled, flinging a large piece of gunk he just pulled from Wind towards you. 

“Seriously guys, get a room!” Four added.

Twilight begrudgingly stopped, letting your laughter die out as you tried to catch your breath.

“This will probably be the only time I will ever thank you guys for sticking your noses where they don't belong.” You said, flinching as Twilight gave you one last tickle to your sides like a warning.

You stood up, kissing his cheek. “I'm gonna go wash up before calling it a night.” Twilight's ears perked up. Immediately starting to stand up with you. You pushed against his chest, forcing him to sit back down. “Alone!”

Twilight pouted like a scorned puppy. The adorable look pulling a chuckle from you before walking off towards the nearby river. His eyes trailing after you. Debating whether or not to follow after you anyways.

“Don't pup,” Time sat down beside him, hand on his shoulder. “If only for the others sake tonight.” A sly wink had Twilights face turning bright red. Agreeing to not following after her only so long as she didn't take too long.

______

True to his word, Twilight was awoken a few hours later for watch. Slightly regretting his kind offer when he saw you draped across his torso. Your damp hair sporadically thrown over your face that had a small smile as you slept. He slipped out from underneath you. Mindful to not jostle you too much unless you’d be woken up alongside him.

He pulled your blanket up higher, planting a small kiss on your temple before willing himself to stand. His spine cracked as he straightened, releasing the tension it carried from the previous battle the other day.

He grabs for his pendant, intending to do a check of the perimeter before settling to keep watch by the dying fire. The Twili magic flows through him like pins and needles pricking at his skin as he shifts into the four legged beast. He shakes it off. Dark fur flying around him before settling in a fluffy mass. 

He set out, not bothering to keep hidden as he walked. Everything was silent as it normally is. Picking up no trace of monsters or any other unwanted intruders. He wonders for a moment about whether or not to call it and start heading back but ignores it. Deciding it's better to be safe than sorry in case something is waiting just a few more steps away. One can never be too careful after all.

A few more minutes went by and he was finally satisfied that nothing was around. He turned, heading back in the direction of camp. With any luck, the rest of his shift would go by quickly and just as uneventful until he could go back to snuggling up with-

*Click*

Metal grinded as something snapped around his leg. Sharp, teeth-like prongs dug into his skin, nearly snapping it in half. The pain followed, shooting up his leg in an agonizing fire that took all he had not to scream. He twisted his head around to take in the damage. The metal trap was now sprayed in his blood. It's relentless pressure sending new shocks of pain at every twitch of his body. 

Twilight snarled, ears perked for whatever had set this trap to show themselves. Nothing made itself known, giving Twilight more time to think of a way out. He snapped his head back, trying to get to where the metal was stuck to his leg. He whined at the pain, trying to push it out of his mind so he could focus on getting out of the blasted thing.

He curled his body so he could take a closer look. It was a simple looking mechanic but clear that it wasn't something he could get out of on his own. Even if he were to transform back into Hylian he was skeptical that he could get it to open. He had to try something though. The others were asleep and the 3rd watch wouldnt be awake for another few hours considering he wasn’t there to wake them up. He could bleed out in that time for all he knew or get caught by whoever had set it. 

He mentally reached for the shard, pulling it from him as his body regained it's Hylian form. 

A new level of pain shot through his leg, forcing him to stop. His leg, now more twisted and gnarled in the trap than before, ached as the spikes dug into the bone. Blood freely flowing from the widened gash. His brain was going in circles. He needed to try and staunch the bleeding or he wouldn't even make it long enough to get out let alone back to camp.

A low, deep growl resonated through the area followed by loud, high pitched howling.

Shit. 

Shit shit shit. This was not good.

He was stuck, injured, and by the sounds of it, about to be attacked by a pack of wolfos. He couldn't even transform back without making it all so much worse.

Hylia this is the last time Twilight ever takes one of Sky's shifts.

__________

You jolt up, fingers already reaching for the closest weapon. Legend and Hyrule were already on their feet with their swords drawn. The others following suit to the sound of howling in the distance. 

“Gee, nice warning rancher.”

No retort. No snarky comeback or explanation. 

“Guys where's Twilight? I don't see him.” You looked around, noticing the lack of said Link without any indication of where he might be. 

“He was probably patrolling around when we heard the howling. I'm sure he's on his way back.

“No…no he patrols at the beginning of his watches which was over an hour ago.” Your heartbeat quickened along with the growing panic in your chest. “Even taking his time he doesnt take this long.” Your gut churned as another howl broke through the night air. This time a lone, distinct cry.

“Oh Nayru, that's him!” You scrambled to your feet, strapping your sword to your back. “Somethings wrong!”

“Hold on, we cant know that for sure.” Four tries to reassure you.

“No, that's him.” Wild said, coming up to you. “I’d recognize that sound anywhere.”

More howling, multiple ones like before. They were getting closer and you'd bet anything they weren't headed towards camp.

“Alright, you all stay here and guard camp. (Y/N), Champion, come with me. We're gonna go find our Ordonia.” Wars ordered.

You followed after them, casting your transformation spell Hyrule had helped you perfect. Bones and muscles shifted around into a dog-like body. You immediately began searching for Twilight's scent, picking it up and darting after it.

“(Y/N) Wait- damn hyena, wait up!” Wars shouts. Him and Wild running after you. 

It didn't take long to find him. Having followed the pungent stench of iron and sounds of howling till your destination was before your eyes. Wolfie was on the ground. His back leg mangled in something you couldn't quite make out from this angle. 3 wolfos surrounded him, snapping and lunging at him in sequence. 

One of them lunged for him and you let out a string of laughter-like growls. You darted towards him, jaws clamping down on the neck of the nearest wolfos. It howled in pain, trying to jump back but your teeth only sunk further into its skin. You tossed your head to the left, throwing the wolfos as a chunk of its skin remained between your teeth. You spit it out as the other 2 swiped at you. You dodged, snarling back as a warning. A sword swung down, forcing it away from you. 

“Get him out of here!” Wars shouted, taking another swing at the wolfos directly in front of him. The one to your left getting struck with 3 arrows to its back as it backed off.

You turned to your wolfish boyfriend, nudging his face with your noise with a low chuckled whine. Wild crouched down beside you, examining the trap embedded in his leg.

“Shit we should have brought Four…” he muttered, poking at it that elicited a soft whine from Wolfie. You nuzzled his face before shifting back.

“Can you get it off?” You reached into your pack, pulling out a roll of bandages.

“I can try?” Wild didn't sound confident but leaned further down and began fiddling with it carefully. You quickly tied the bandage on his leg in an attempt to stop the blood.

A final cry and the last wolfos fell to War's sword. 

“How we looking?”

“Not good.” Wild explained. “We're gonna need the smithy to pry it open.”

Wolfie lifted his head, placing it  in your lap. You scratched at his ears, giggling nervously.

“Can we move him?” Wild followed the small chain, making sure it wasn't anchored to anything before nodding. 

“Alright…I’ll carry him back. You two cover me in case there are any more.”

Wild helps lift him up onto War's shoulders. A pained growl that you try to soothe away with soft strokes to his face and whispered reassurances. 

You kept close to him as you made it back to camp. Wild running ahead to get Four and his tools. The others hovered around when you entered, concerned for their brother obvious in their tired faces as Wars laid him down.

“I can get it to unlock but I'll need one of you to pull it open from there” Four explained, hands flying around the contraption. “Also I'm no doctor but…this isnt gonna be pleasant.”

Bodies shuffled around you, Time and Hyrule moving closer to the wound while Legend sat next to you near his head, lining up both red and green potions. You shifted back, letting your body curl around his head. 

“Alright we ready? 3..2..” A clink, and Time pries the thing open. A howl that only you can recognize as a scream has you pressing further into him. Blood pooled onto the ground as Hyrule shoved his hands towards the gash. The green glow flowing around it as it slowly stitched itself up. Wolfie buries his head into your neck, muffling his whines as you lick at his face.

After a moment, you feel him begin moving around, turning back to Hylian. He breathes heavily as he groans in pain. You shift back as well, immediately grabbing at his face.

“Twi! Oh my goddess I was so worried about you!” You snatch a red potion from Legend and shove it to his mouth. He silently complies, taking a good few swallows before pulling away with a small gasp.

You throw your arms around him, wanting, needing to have him close to you. He flinches slightly, wrapping an arm around your waist as your face presses into his shoulder.

“I'm fine doll, just..just hurts a bit.” He says unconvincingly. The blood had now stopped and the muscles seemingly repaired even as it leaves a nasty sight behind. It will definitely scar but both Hyrule and Wars insists that it should be good as new by morning.

Some of the others begin hounding him with questions and it takes everything for you to not snap at them to back off.

“Alright, we can discuss more in the morning.” Times voice breaks through, ruffling Twilight's hair softly. “Legend, why don't you take over watch. Everyone else, let's try to get some more rest before day break.”

There's a few muttered responses but eventually everyone begins to head back to their bedrolls. You however, make no such attempt. Only holding on tighter to the still injured man beside you.

“Are you okay? You promise? I can get you another potion or a fairy if you need.” You said, face still deep in the crook of his neck. His hand rubbed against your back.

“Darlin I'll be fine. I swear it.” He tried to reassure you. “It's just a tad sore is all. You'll be the first one to know if anything gets worse mkay?” You nodded, finally letting yourself pull away long enough to let him lie down. He opened his arms to you and you immediately curled back into his side.

“Thanks for the save by the way.” He mentions, through a large yawn. His eyes closing slightly from exhaustion. “The way you tossed that beast like it wasn't nothing? Hottest thing I think I've ever seen.”

You couldn't help but laugh. “If that's what you consider hot I think I've been going about things the wrong way.” You teased, coming up to kiss his jaw.

“No no! You do things just right~” his voice trailed off. Sleep over taking him as his chest rose and fell in a soothing rhythm. You followed its pattern, listening to his steady heartbeat as you joined him once more in a warm, comfortable slumber.

[del-thetiredwriter]

Firstly sorry for late responding. Actually I wasn’t planning any second part but here I write it. It’s a bit long but I hope you like it.

For your question I think Daemon would immediately realize that his wife is meeting a man regularly. He would track his wife and always watch their meetings afar. But when he sees his wife kissing that he would immediately barge in.

Close to you yet so far away part 2 ?

Part 1 , extra?

Warnings: Oc ( Theo) ,cheating, stalking?, Daemon is his own warning

"Madam! Madame, please stop.” The butler was running after you. Your quick steps stopped suddenly and you turned around.

"What?!" You said angrily.

“Madam please, where are you going again?” the butler asked.

“This is none of your business. Tell Prince Daemon that I won't be coming to dinner, that I have work to do." You said sternly.

“But sir, Prince—“ you interrupted before the butler could finish.

“I don't care what 'my husband' says. Do you understand me"

You ran into your husband as you were walking down the hall. daemon

“My dear wife, where are you going?” He asked in a tone you didn't like.

"It's none of your business," you said sternly.

“You've always been going somewhere lately. Do you realize how hard I try just to spend time with you? Despite this, you always say you have a 'job' and disappear.”

It's true Daemon has been more around lately and was always trying to spend time with you. At breakfast, at dinner… maybe in the past you might have been overjoyed, but what they were doing now just made you feel awful.

"If you're feeling lonely, go to the pleasure house." You said.

You left quickly. Meanwhile, Daemon looked at your receding silhouette.

-

“What the hell”

You woke up to the sound of a door slamming. You thought, 'Who knocks on the door like that in the middle of the night?' When you opened the door, you were surprised to see Daemon in front of you. He swooped down on you with a mischievous grin.

“Why did you open so late~”

"What's wrong with you Daemon ? At this hour-" was cut off by Daemon's kiss. You tried to push him away, but he had a tight grip on you. It smelled of alcohol. Was Daemon drunk? Besides, he come to your room in the middle of the night and kiss you. It was inconceivable that he behaved like this towards his wife, whom he was incapable of even looking at.

When he finally let you go, you were out of breath. Your liked the way he kissed you. But you shouldn't have hoped, after all, it was your husband who would never love you. You couldn't relive the disappointment you had before. You recovered quickly and spoke again in your old cold tone.

“Prince, please come to yourselves. You're drunk, don't do things you'll regret later."

“Oh come on, don't be so cold. You know that I love you." said Daemon.

You had an perfect night with Daemon that night. He was kissing every inch of you, telling you how adorable you are. It was perfect until "Mysaria" came out of his mouth.

-

You were startled by a gentle voice.

“My lady, are you okay? You are lost in thoughts again. Is there anything I can help with?" A brunette youth asked. You smiled when you saw his worried expression.

“You worry too much, Theo. I'm fine, just unpleasant memories."

The young man gave a shy look, not very convinced by what you said.

You met Theo after that unpleasant night. He would listen to the arguments you had with your husband and calm you down. He would worry about you in the slightest thing.

Theo was the exact opposite of Daemon. Theo was kind, Daemon was cruel. Theo would listen to you and try his best to make you happy, but Daemon wouldn't even look at you.

"You know, you're so much better than my stupid husband." You said. At these unexpected Words, Theo got tangled up. For some reason you wanted to kiss Theo at that moment. And your lips touched his. The door suddenly slammed on his touch. You're surprised to see a bloodthirsty Daemon in front of you. What was he doing here?

“you bastard! Get your hands off from my wife!”

If you hadn't intervened at that moment, Theo would have been dead already.

-

"Leave me!" You shouted. You were fluttering when Daemon was carrying you in his arms. The servants all stared at you at this unusual situation. You were red with embarrassment.

You finally arrived at his room. He threw you on the bed.

“You are not allowed to go out from now on. We'll stay in the common rooms and you won't leave my side, you understand?” Daemon said.

" What's your problem!" You shouted.

“I mean what!? I caught my wife kissing someone else!” He said angrily.

“You said I could do whatever I wanted. Also, you are always with others. Why can't I be?" you said.

“You told me you weren't like me. If you feel lonely, you will come to me from now on. I have you too.” Said Daemon.

You stopped. You didn't want to talk. No matter what you said, you would still be wrong.

Daemon took one last look at you.

“Like I said, you are not allowed to go out from now on. We will stay in the common rooms and you will not leave my side. I will tell the servants to prepare the water. You need to clean up.”

And you were alone again.

Notes: if you liked it please tell me. I have something in my mind like part 3

[taylormarieee]

~It starts with you~

Summary: You are living with Hershel on the farm. He adopted you when you were stranded during this apocalypse. When Newcomers come to the farm seeking help and refuge. You fall in love with a handsome, married Officer.

Genre: Fluff-Suggestive

Pairing: Rick Grimes x Fem!Greene!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Kissing, none really just fluff. (Just a reminder this is like season 2 Rick when he kinda starts growing his beard a little), Suggestive Thoughts, Touching in inappropriate ways, the group being weird/watching you guys.

Previously:

"Uhm Rick t-thank you for catching me. I owe you one!" You say putting on an awkward smile. "Uh yea, no problem." Rick says weakly holding onto a wall. "Uh Rick you don't look too good? You need to rest." Maggie says. "Yea, thanks Maggie! I'll put him to rest." Lori says clenching her jaw.

You and Maggie both awkwardly walk away and head up to her room. "You totally like him! Those puppy dog eyes give it away sister!" She says excitedly. "No Maggie! I can't, He is married." You say shaking your head.

"Sister, Have you seen the tension between Shane and Lori? They clearly have or Had something going on behind Rick's back and haven't told him! Just talk to Rick, get to know him." She says smiling. I roll my eyes and get up and say goodnight to everyone, even Carl who is now awake and responsive.

Maybe you will take up on Maggie's offer and go for it.

After all, you always get what you want...

Now:

You wake up the next morning feeling amazing! The sun is shining and you are excited to meet the rest of Rick's group. Like fully meet them. You don't even know half of them besides Shane, Lori, Carl, Rick, Dale, and Andrea.

You brush your teeth, put your hair into your favourite style and put on a pink tank top and overalls with worn out Converse. You say good morning to everyone in the kitchen when you arrive.

"Good Mornin everyone!" You say happily as you take a fruit from Maggies plate. She swats your hand away and you chuckle. You hear certain whispers coming from a cute little Korean boy and you smile at him.

"You must be Glenn! It's nice to meet ya!" You say, your accent is very thick this morning. He smiles and nods and pink tint forming prominently around his cheeks and nose.

"Maggie' how's daddy doin?" You ask in a worried tone. "He doesn't want these people to stay sis, he wants 'em to leave as soon as Carl's ok. I like these people y/n, I can't watch 'em leave! After everything we helped 'em with? They deserve a place to stay. We have the room!" She says clearly upset.

"It's fine. We don't want any trouble." Shane says.

"Who said you were trouble? I'll convince Daddy to let you good folks stay. But, on one condition! Please help around the farm, we can do this alone but it would be faster with some help. We lost some people and I can't afford to lose anymore." You say looking at the pictures on the fridge.

They all nod in understanding and you smile. You walk out of the room, your hips swaying as you walk away. You pass Rick and stop in your tracks. You see him sitting with his son and your contemplating whether to go over there or not.

You decide to look at the front door and walk straight out of the house. You couldn't do it. Why couldn't you do it! And if you go back in, it will seem weird.

You just decide that you're going to occupy your time with some gardening. You grab some tools and walk to the garden and begin working.

~1 hour later...

You were about to finish up when Shane walks up to you.

"Hey, It's uh Y/N right?" He asks holding his hand out for you to take. You gladly take his hand with a smile and stand up.

"Yeah, what's up? Is anyone else hurt?" You ask worry contorting on your face. He chuckles.

"No no, I was just wondering if you would like to come shoot with us. I know we're gonna be on our way soon but in case y'all are ever in danger." He kinda trails off awaiting your response.

"Oh, of course! I'm a little rusty so go easy on me." You say chuckling. "I gotcha darlin." He says with a sweet smile.

"So Shane, what did you do before all of this?" You ask out of curiosity.

"Well, I was an officer. Me and Rick both were. But I lost him in the midst of all this when it first started. Thought my best friend was dead, but let me tell you something. Rick, is a good man with a strong heart. And I love him, man. He's my brother." Shane says, walking with you to the shooting area.

You smile and nod. You guys arrive and you see Rick standing there. You see Andrea and Dale and Maggie and Glenn. Maggie runs up to you and hugs you.

You smile and hug her back. "Do you know how to shoot?" You ask maggie.

"Daddy's taught me a little bit. I know the basics." She says smiling.

You nod and walk towards where Rick and Shane are standing.

"G'day fellow mates!" You say in your terrible British accent earning a chuckle from both men.

"Hey. I just wanted to say again thank you for saving my sons life. I've never seen anyone do that as quickly as you did." Rick says smiling.

"Oh please, don't thank me. Thank Hershel." You say with a smile.

He nods and opens his mouth to ask you something but his question was already asked by Shane.

"You wanna learn how to shoot? Rick can help you if ya want darlin." He says with a smirk on his face.

"Yea that'd be nice. Like I said Shane, Im a little rusty so please go easy on me." You say giggling. Rick smiles at your laughter. You have such a cute giggle, he thought.

And such a beautiful smile, and pretty, luscious lip- God what was he thinking. He's married and plus you probably don't see him that way anyway.

"Well c'mon. We don't got all day!" He says going to ask Andrea for her gun. She seemed to have a bit of an attitude but she gave it up anyway.

Everybody walked behind you to watch how the noob would do with a gun. Rick handed you the gun and lifted your arms up to the right position.

"Nuh uh, Hand only on the trigger if you intend to shoot, alright?" He asks his accent pretty and deep.

You shake your head to show you understand and fix your stance. Rick slides his hands up your arms to your shoulders before whispering in you ear, "Good Luck." He says with a smirk.

Unaware that his wife was watching the whole interaction. You smiled and said, "Thanks."

You aimed the gun at the first can and took a breath in and out. You held the gun up and bent your elbows like Rick had shown you. You put on foot in front of the other to make sure you don't fall on your ass and put your hand on the trigger.

You breathe in and out one more time before you pull the trigger. Dead hit. The can was knocked straight off the wood. You walked down and continued to shoot the cans over and over never faltering and hitting every single one.

When you were done you see the proud look on Rick and Shanes face, shock on Maggie and Glenn's face and annoyance on Andrea's face.

You smile and jump up and down, but you quickly stop remembering theres a loaded weapon in your hand. Rick walks up to you and hugs you spinning you around forgetting that Lori was even there. You didn't see Lori.

Too caught up in your excitement so you drop the gun and immediately hug him back.

"Your a fast learner. I'm proud of you." He says smiling while putting you down.

Before you could respond, Lori interrupts. "Rick! A word." She says giving the most stern look at him but nevertheless she smiles at you before walking away. You smile back and walk over to Maggie and Glenn and engage in conversation while watching Rick and Lori from afar.

The sun is starting to set and you're sitting on the porch on the swing looking at you feet swing and thinking.

You're thinking about how beautiful Rick looked in the sunlight today. His beautiful curls and his beautiful smile. God why are you like this! Thinking about a married man with a child! You are insane. But why did he have to be so hot.

It's the apocalypse and you don't exactly get laid anymore. Just you, your sex books and your fingers. Its the best combo during times like this but sometimes you don't get privacy anymore.

Hershel's busting in your room asking for help in the garden. Maggie needs help cooking or setting the table. Beth needs help with her hair on certain days. Its so much.

So when a hot officer comes knocking on the door asking for help, how could you not fall in love! He's such a pretty man and you wish he was yours so badly.

You wish he was on top of you ramming into your body so hard. You wish he was eating you out until you cry and scream his name.

You really wish that Rick Grimes was yours and yours only. You treat Carl like he is your own. Hell you saved his life for christ's sake! You're older than Maggie and Beth. You're of that age where you would want children and live in a cute little house.

Now those dreams are crushed because of the frickin apocalypse. Your sad about it but grateful it happened. Because you met some amazing people along the way.

Your so lost in your thoughts you don't even realize the man coming up to you. "What're you thinking about? hmm?" He asks with a smirk on his face.

Startled you say the first thing that comes to mind without even registering what your about to say.

"You Rick." You say staring at him. His face shifts into a sly smile and you retract your statement. "Uhhh, oh god, not l-like that I-I mean like y-you and the group!" You say nervously chuckling.

He lets out a laugh and sits next to you. "Your cute. Anyone ever tell ya that? You're so fun and kind and adorable. So nervous all the time and I personally find it adorable."

Omg did he just call you adorable! Oh my god you must be dreaming.

"R-Really? You think I'm adorable?" You ask scooting a little closer, which he notices.

"I mean yeah, you look adorable, you act adorable and who wouldn't think a girl like you is adorable." He says scooting closer to you as well.

You both are so lost in your conversation you guys don't even realize that everybody is inside invested in your conversation. They can't hear you guys of course but they see you guys laughing and scooting closer to each other.

Lori's watching the whole thing with anger. So what if you saved her sons life that's her husband you're flirting with. She doesn't want to go out there yet but she sits back and watches whats going to happen.

Daryl smiles to himself knowing that Rick had eyes for you all this time. Maggie is smiling her ass off at you shooting your shot with Rick.

You guys continue to laugh and talk about other stuff.

"See at first I wanted to major in Criminal Justice but, I chose to major in being a nurse and go to nursing school instead cause I noticed how much I loved helping people. Plus I watched a lot of doctor shows!" You say laughing.

He chuckles and nods. "See that's very interesting. Me personally I loved helping people just, in a more dangerous way. Being a cop is scary yea but it made me happy you know? Especially being with Shane. It made it a whole lot better." He says smiling at you.

You watch and stare at his lips as he talks. You decide in you mind to just go for it. You move you face and kiss him. You give him a semi-long kiss and then pull away.

You immediately start apologizing but is interrupted by him kissing you back. He grabs your jaw and kisses you passionately. You move your hand to his neck and kiss him back.

The kiss lasts for longer than expected and you guys start getting closer to each other and your hands start to roam.

Your hands go down his neck to his chest and his hands go up your thighs and to your waist. You pull away and he starts attacking you neck with kisses. Sucking and kissing spots where there are sure to be bruises that you won't be able to hide.

you turn your head to the window and see everybody staring at you guys with smiles, and smirks on there faces. You squeal once you see Lori and push Rick off you and fall to the floor to hide yourself from the embarrassment.

Rick has a puzzled look on his face and when you see it, you lift your hand and do a pointing motion to the window. He looks at the window and sees everybody staring.

He looks around the room and sees Lori. He drops down as well and you both burst out laughing.

Oh god what have you guys done!

A/N: This was fun and cute to write so I hope y'all enjoyed!

Taglist: @sickyrat @sinsandsweetness @catt-leya @carlsdarling @loveforcarl @carlgrimesenthusiast @rickydixky @rickswh0r3 @murdadixon

[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part VIII: horseshoe overlook iv

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 15.2k

summary: it's time for the train job, the biggest job you've ever done. You've got a bad feeling about it, and by the end you wish you would have listened to your gut.

a/n: Surprise! Early post! Thank you for your patience with this chapter! Yall know I always upload on Wednesday, but i was so sick that i couldn't write, and i had to go to the ER on tuesday night to get fluids. Anyway, this has been the scariest chapter to write ever. Don't kill me please and please don't give up on this series... love yall, don't yell at me and please trust me. This chapter was too long and got split into two parts: part two will be posted in three days time.

beta read by @margowritesthings

warnings: violence, death, minors dni, 18+

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

Arthur leaves long before you even wake up, heading back down to Blackwater to find Sean. It gives you a sick feeling in your stomach, but you trust he’ll be okay. Arthur is smart, and even though he's good at getting himself in sticky situations, he's equally good at getting out of them. It doesn't do much to help your worry, but it’s all you can cling to for right now.

You swirl your half empty cup of coffee in your hand, leaning down for the percolator to reheat it. The fire is warm, alongside the sun, and you find yourself grateful for the off the shoulder shirt you’d picked up a few days ago. It's the perfect temperature you think, tasting the bitter coffee. You're startled out of your thoughts by a weary presence.

“Penny for your thoughts, ma’am?” Kieran asks, walking passed to sit down opposite of you on a crate. He looks nervous, like he was afraid to come sit, and you feel sorry for it. Kieran seems like a nice man, just someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Just thinkin’ about all that's goin’ on… I see they let you live, huh?” You chuckle, and Kieran nods, nervously. 

“Well Mr. Morgan convinced Dutch to let me stay, I thought maybe that was your doin.” Kieran says, and your eyebrow pings up in shock. 

“Did he now?” You hum, surprised by Arthur’s choice, “No, That was all Mr. Morgan. Well good for you, I just hope he won’t regret it.”

“Oh he won’t! I'm real good with horses, miss, worked in a stable most my life. I’m sure I can be of help with anything you folks need, especially in that regard. I can do anything, even latrines. I’ll earn my keep, miss, I will.” Kieran stutters and you nod, eyeing him over. 

“But speakin’ of horses… that palomino over there, the blue eyed one, is she yours?” Kieran asks, nodding towards Athena, who has her neck to the ground, tearing through the bale of hay there. You smile, watching as she pins her ears at Old Boy, keeping the hay for herself. 

“Yeah, she’s mine. Just got her since we’ve been here.” You smile, and Kieran takes note of her configuration. 

“She looks like a thoroughbred. Nice and tall, lean and muscular.” Kieran points out, and you hum at his accuracy. 

“She is.” You respond, eyeing whether or not Kieran has a motive or if he's just a lover of all things equine. You sip at your bitter coffee, letting him speak for himself.

“Y’know palomino thoroughbreds are of the rare sort, n’ with those blues? Well you got a real fine animal, miss.” Kieran says, doting over your mare. You smile, making a note to mention Kieran’s knowledge of horses to Arthur. Maybe that could be his designated contribution. At least he’d be doing something he enjoys instead of getting harassed and threatened by the gang all day. 

“Thank you.” You hum, drinking the rest of your coffee. 

"Well I reckon I better take my coffee and head back to shuckin' corn till they give me a better job. But it was real nice talkin' to you, miss. You're the first person who's treated me like a person rather than an animal since I've been here." Kieran smiles, filling up his cup with the percolator before nodding to you and heading back to Pearson's wagon. You frown, feeling sorry for him. You were lucky enough to have been found by Arthur, but it could have gone any other way. O'Driscolls could have found you first, and you could be in Kieran's shoes right now. 

Sighing, and taking your cup of coffee, you stand up and walk past Strauss's tent, ignoring his greeting. There's a little log sitting near the edge of the cliff behind his tent, and it's a perfect little spot to sit and think. Not wanting to be bothered, your eyes stay pinned on the log as you make your way towards it. The view is breathtaking, you can see everything from the Dakota River to the tops of the Grizzlies from the spot as you sit down, drinking in the warm air. It's a secluded little area, far enough from camp to get away from the arguments and bickering, but close enough for safety. You're enjoying your solitude, watching two bucks fight down below the cliff, they're antlers are stuck together as they rip and rug. It's an interesting sight, until it's interrupted by a throat clearing behind you. 

"John." You sigh, annoyed not with his presence but the fact that you know why he's here. 

"Nice to see you too." John chuckles, bringing his leg over the log to sit next to you with a cigarette between his lips.

“Gotta get some supplies for this train job, I could use an extra hand that ain't a dumbass.” John asks, leaning backwards to stretch. You sigh, not wanting to even think about the damn train job. But nonetheless, you nod. 

“Sure. What exactly is your plan for goin’ about it?” You ask, scooching towards John as he pinches the cigarette between his fingers, shaking it before tossing it on the ground. He pulls a map from his pocket, unfolds the heavily used paper, and holds it out for you to see. 

“Trains' comin’ from Riggs Station. It’s dropping off its security detail in The Heartlands, and after dark it’s heading down to Rhodes to pick up the next regiment.” He explains, tracing his finger over the paper from Riggs Station to Rhodes. 

“So it’ll be completely unguarded for this whole stretch of tracks?” You ask. It sounds too good to be true, but you know that John and Arthur have done this enough by now. They know how to get proper information. But the idea of the train job still makes your stomach flip with anxiety as you’ve never robbed anything as big as a train. 

“Well, not exactly. The security that they’re payin the big bucks for won’t be there, but we expect a few armed passengers, and some local boys guardin’ the train for extra cash. It won't be completely unguarded, but it sure as hell won’t be a militia like you’d expect.” 

You nod, taking the map from his hands gently, and looking it over. 

“Where do we board, n’ how are we boardin’ it?” You ask, and John places his index finger over a little area labeled Dewberry Creek, just past the Lemoyne/New Hanover stateline. 

“Here. We’ll have to stop the train, or it’ll take us right into town. I figure we get an oil wagon, ease it over the tracks. When that train comes through and sees that oil? It’ll stop just fine. We board her, encourage those rich bastards to give up their grammy’s pearls and we ride out.” John explains, tucking the map back into his pocket.

“Alright… seems like a solid plan.” You admit, ignoring your gut, “Where do we get a full oil wagon?” You ask, dusting some dirt off of your new jeans. 

“That’s where you come in. Only place I reckon we find one is the oil fields, out in The Heartlands, you know of it?”

You shake your head no, “Uh-uh.”

“Well it's well guarded for the most part, but most of those guys sleep or drink on the job. And they don’t get paid enough to give a damn. I’m heading over now to scout the place out, get an idea of the schedule. Thought maybe you could tag along, put that head to use instead of washin’ clothes for old Susan.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure if he's just complimented you or insulted you, but still, you nod. 

“Alright. Let me pack some stuff, I’ll meet you by the horses.” 

John nods as you walk back towards your tent. With a sigh, you pull the canvas open. Your saddle bag is sitting on your bed, and you stuff it with some provisions and a change of clothes, then decide that you’ll need to grab some more ammo from Arthur's tent just in case. Once everything is all packed and settled, you swing your saddlebag over your shoulder and head back out. You stop around the back of Arthur’s wagon, picking up a few cases of express bullets and some throwing knives from the makeshift armory. 

“What does she want from him now? I never liked hearin' about her…” Marybeth hisses, and you look up, startled, realizing she is standing in Arthur’s tent. You’re peeking around the back of the wagon, eavesdropping as Marybeth places a crisp white envelope on Arthur’s bedside table.

“I always thought Mary was nice…” Tilly responds, picking up the envelope and looking it over before returning it. 

“Nice like a patch of poison ivy.” Marybeth bites, and Tilly rolls her eyes. 

“You didn’t even know her. Not when she was really around, anyway. She was always kind, just… didn’t agree with our life. Can you blame her?” Tilly sighs, and they walk out of the tent together. 

Your eyebrows pull together, and you walk around the outside of his tent until you're at the entrance. You hum, looking at the envelope before striding through his tent towards it. It’s upside down on his table, and you know you shouldn’t be snooping through his mail, but you pick it up and flip it over regardless. Written in sloppy cursive is ‘Arthur’ and you look after the lettering for a while. The paper is fancy, the kind that is expensive and only available in the city. Your finger trails over the lettering, and it itches to tear the red seal off and read the contents, but you restrain yourself. You know if the roles were reversed Arthur would respect your privacy. Sighing, you place the envelope back and meet John by the horses, wondering who Mary might be the whole way over. John is just climbing into the saddle when you approach. 

“Ready to go?” He asks, settling himself down over Old Boy and checking the straps on his saddlebag.

“Sure.” You mumble, mounting up onto Athena and giving her a nice pat. Once you’re settled, the two of you start cantering out of the trails, nodding to Karen who is keeping watch. Instead of riding towards Valentine, John leads you out towards the Heartlands, into unfamiliar territory for you. You can’t help but think about those men, Milton and Ross, and wonder why in the hell you’re all robbing a train right now.

“Why does Dutch keep pushin’ this job?” You holler up, squeezing Athena to run faster after John.  

“I got no idea.” He yells back to you. Once you run over the tracks the terrain changes from grass to dry, sandy dirt, and you try to keep Athena on the trail to avoid getting any rocks lodged in her shoes. 

“It don’t make sense, we should be leavin. Now I don't want to, not at all, but there was Pinkertons right next to our camp, just a stone's throw away.” You shake your head, unbelieving of Dutch’s terrible call. 

“Do you think they know where we are?” John asks, turning in his saddle a bit as he gallops on. 

“No. No if they knew where we are they would have just came to camp… But still, approachin’ us like that when we had Jack with us? Tellin’ us, in front of him, what happened to Mac? They can all go to hell.” You hiss, and John goes quiet for a minute. All you can hear is hooves pounding as you wait for his response. 

“You and Arthur had Jack?” John asks, like he's angry, but mostly surprised. Your eyebrows draw together, unsure of why it’s a big deal.

“Well, yeah. Abigail asked us to watch him for a bit, just to cheer him up.” You respond as he leads you up the bank towards Citadel Rock. John huffs loudly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as if he disapproves.

“You got a problem with that?” You bite, noticing the tension in his shoulders, and his quiet, aggressive demeanor.

“She acts like I ain’t there… for her or the boy.” John hisses, shaking his head. It grows quiet again as you think back to Abigail’s pleading tears, begging you to take Jack because John wouldn't.

“Are you?” You ask, with some judgment. John really thinks about your question, slowing Old Boy to a trot as he comes up near the slope of Citadel Rock. He left them, but he came back, that counts for something in his eyes. Surely, it counts in Abigail’s eyes too…. 

“Well yeah!” John says defensively, “Im tryin’... tryin’ to get money for them at least, so she can raise the boy up proper.” John says, stopping his stallion at the edge of the cliff, overlooking The Heartlands. You pull Athena up alongside him, stopping so you can look him in the eyes. 

“Money don’t matter if you ain’t there for ‘em.” You whisper, no harshness or judgment in your eyes, although he takes it with such, pulling back and scrunching up his face in anger. 

“The hells that supposed to mean?” He bites, dropping his reins and throwing an arm in the air towards you. You keep your calm demeanor, only wanting to help the little family. You have no quarrels against John or his parenting, but you’re the one in camp watching Abigail comfort a crying Jack when his daddy isn't there to tuck him in night after night.

“It’s just…” You think over your words, tongue darting out over your lips, “Your boys' real upset, he misses ya John. Abigail won't admit it but she misses you too.” Your wrist rests on the horn of your saddle, toying with the leather reins as you watch John’s face soften. He sighs, eyes downcast as he runs his hand over his face, careful not to catch the healing stitches on his right side.

“You think?” He asks, looking up to you, and you nod your head up and down, sure.

“I don't know what I’m doin’ Star.” John sighs, doubting himself. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be there for Jack and Abigail, he doesn't know how to. He doesn't see himself cut out to be a father or a husband, and he has a hard time believing his family wants him around. 

“None of us do,” You huff a laugh, thinking of your own situation with Arthur, “You just gotta try your best to do right by them.” 

John nods, offering you a small, sad smile as he leans over to tap your knee in thanks. Without another word, but with a mutual understanding, you both dismount your horses. Then it’s time to get down to work. John takes both the horses, and he hitches them down the bank a ways so they can’t be seen from the roads or the fields. As he takes them away, you pull out your binoculars. Crouching, you look through the glass and take in the infamous Heartland Oil Fields. There is one big building, the factory, on the left side of the tracks that run straight through the place. On the right are smaller buildings, you’re presuming bunks, outhouses and storage rooms. The entire place is fenced in, except for where the tracks run through and the main entrance, guarded by two armed men. You search for an oil wagon, and find a few but you’re not sure which are empty or full. Armed guards stand all around the place, and there is a damn moat of oil ponds on the right perimeter. You pull the binoculars down, hearing John return as he walks up beside you. He too is eyeing the factory, face drawn up as he thinks over a plan. 

“How do you reckon we go about this?” You ask, handing him over the binoculars. He takes them, and does the same look around that you’ve just had. 

“We stay here and figure out their routine. They have a checkpoint at the front gate, so if we watch them long enough we’ll know which wagons are full and when. Then we slip in at night, once the workers have gone home. We’ll only have to get past the guards.” John explains and you sigh, nodding. You look up at the sun, holding your fingers up to the horizon. It’s nearly 4PM, you’re gonna be here for a while.

“Why don’t you make us a fire or somethin? And grab my bedroll too. This is uncomfortable as hell.” You ask of him as you plop down on the dirt, taking the first watch. 

— — — — 

“Star?” John mumbles, and you groan, eyelashes fluttering. You curl your knees in tighter until John shakes your shoulder.

“Star, get up. It’s time to go.” John says, and those four words alone pull you from your slumber, it's time to go.

In the past six hours you and John had traded shifts a handful of times, and both picked up the same pattern. A wagon is filled every hour on the hour, and then left for only ten minutes while the guards do their rounds. Once the ten minutes are up, the wagon is taken out the front gate by a heavily armed detail, and sent off. You had suggested earlier that it might be easier to steal the wagon after it leaves the oil fields, but John had said the risk of the oil wagon getting shot would be too high. So you stick with the original plan, leaving you only ten minutes to sneak into the place and sneak out with the wagon. It’ll be hard, but it’s your only option. 

“They just started their rounds, hurry up.” John explains as you scramble to your feet. You notice he has the camp taken down already, and the fire is nothing but smoking ashes as you quickly roll up your bedroll. Quietly whistling for Athena, you wait for her to arrive before strapping down your bedroll and jumping onto her back. The ten minute countdown has already begun as you and John gallop down the hill. 

“Which way do we go in?” You ask, running after John towards the right flank of the fenced oil fields. 

“We're gonna come up on the right side, ditch the horses a ways out, and jump the fence. Wagon should be sitting right there. Then we just drive it right out the front gate.” John hollers back, slowing Old Boy down once you can see the fence. Coyotes yip and howl in The Heartlands, making the night even more eerie as you approach the factory. With the dark and the distance, none of the guards can see your horses as you both dismount and break for the fence. You shoo both horses, signaling them to flee. And then you're running, keeping your breaths controlled and steady as you watch out for any straggling guards. John reaches the fence before you do. It’s not very high and he easily jumps over it. 

“C’mon!” John whispers as you throw yourself over the fence, landing painfully on your ankle with a wince. He grabs your elbow, pulling you along with him. Once you're inside, you take a look around to get your bearings. You see a few swinging lanterns in the distance, all guards on watch, but none of them look in your direction. Most of the lanterns near the bunk houses have been snuffed out for the night, leaving you to the shadows. You turn in the other direction and see exactly what you're looking for.

“Right there!” You whisper, pointing ahead to the wagon. It’s pulled in front of one of the tents, and John helps you run towards it. Two white shire horses are hooked up to the wagon, and you’re glad to see that they’re strong and agile. 

“Go on, get up there. I’ll drive.” John says, hushed as he breaks away from you to get on the left side of the wagon. You’re not sure how much time you have, but surely it’s not much. Your heart pumps loudly in your ears as you climb up the side of the wagon, ignoring the slight pain in your ankle. John clambers up, and just as he reaches the bench seat you hear a low, deep growl. You snap your head around to catch the source and the blood runs from your face at the sight of a massive bloodhound. A guard dog. His jaw snaps as he snarls at you with a warning. 

“John…?” You whisper, so quietly that he barely hears. He turns and sees the dog, and his eyes flicker from it to the guards walking on the other side of the factory. The dog's hackles are raised as it snarls, showing its teeth. You know that if it barks, or alerts the guards in any way, you’ll both be caught. John shushes it and slowly starts to roll the wagon away, quietly cueing the horses onward. The dog snarls again, snapping its jaws as you quietly ride the wagon away. 

“What do we do? What if it alerts someone?” You whisper, heart racing. If the dog alerts a single guard, you’ll have every person in the facility shooting at you. 

“I don’t know, drive like hell, I guess.” John offers as you watch the dog. John has the horses going at a nice trot towards the entrance, and sweat runs down your brow as the dog runs after the wagon. You’re just about to breach the front gate when it happens- when the bloodhound does what bloodhounds do. It bays, and it bays loud. 

"What is it boy? What ya find?" Someone hollers, and a lantern flicks on in one of the tents. John flicks the reins over the horse's backs harshly and they pick up a canter towards the front gate. 

“Shit!" You hiss as the dog continues, head tossed up in the air as guards start to come out and find the disturbance. One man comes out from a tent, still in pajamas with a rifle in hand. Your eyes widen as he stares directly at you. 

“Right there! They’re takin’ a wagon!” The barely clothed man yells, and John curses as he smacks the horses with the reins again, and they take off. More guards and workers seem to come out and see you all escaping, and everyone readies their rifles. John steers the horses out the main gate just as bullets start to whiz past your head. 

“Stop them!” Another guard calls out, “Get the damn law!” 

Bullets ping against the wooden wheels of the wagon, and buzz through the air past your head. You lean your head down to protect yourself as you grab your carbine from around your shoulder, good thing you grabbed those bullets. 

“Shoot somethin’!” John yells, maneuvering the horses along the roads in the direction of Dewberry Creek. 

“Im tryin!” You yell back, loading your carbine before popping up and taking down two guards who were shooting from behind the fence. A few bullets ping against the side of the wagon, and you gasp, realizing how quickly it could go up in flames. You pop up from the bench again, and fire into the chests of three men who were running after the wagon.

“Watch the damn oil, you morons!” One of the guards yells to his men. You shoot down three more men before you have to reload again. John is getting you further from the oil fields, and the flashing of gunfire gets farther away until two riders come out after the wagon. You’re still filling up the magazine when they ride up on you, and John ducks, yelling something. A few more bullets whiz passed before you stand up and shoot both men down from their horses. You pant, ducking as three more riders gallop after you both. John has the horses running at a dizzying pace as you stand, taking down two men. You're extra careful not to shoot or hurt the rider's horses as you come up and shoot the last man. 

“Is that the last of them?” John yells as you pant, wiping sweat from your brow and slumping back into your seat. 

“Yeah, that's all.” You breathe heavily, tossing your carbine strap back over your shoulder. You whistle, and turn around to watch for Athena. John does the same, and luckily after a few minutes, both come running behind the wagon. 

“Where we takin’ this again? I know you said the creek, but specifically?” You ask, taking your hat off and setting it in your lap to untie your braid. You pull the cloth tie out, running your fingers through the waves that are now down your back. 

“We’re droppin’ it near this torn down house. I’ll leave the horses go and we'll come back for it when the train comes through.” John explains, and you nod. 

It’s a bit of a ride, especially with the pace you go at. The horses are exhausted and scared from the shootout, so John doesn’t push them past a trot. It's nice to just relax in the passenger seat, and you focus on the humming of bugs and frogs while your heartbeat settles. It's a cloudy night, the kind where a cold fog settles over the place, but you don't mind. It's still beautiful. The moon pokes through the fog in a hazy glow, offering some light for John to lead you to Dewberry Creek. He winds the wagons down the open hills until you reach a small trail along a big dried up creek bed. 

"Guess the creek ain't fairin' so well." You point out, watching as coyotes yip and run through the dried up creek. 

"Guess not." John offers, pulling the wagons toward a structure. It looks like a little house that burned down. The foundation is intact, along with the fireplace and support beams, but the rest has burned away. 

"We pull them off right here." John says, turning the horses to walk in between the house and a patch of trees. He starts to slow them down, and you hop from the wagon before it stops. Immediately you jog around the backside to check the cargo. 

"Shit, John! Shit!" You hiss, taking in the oil wagon that is riddled with random bullet holes. There's about five or six, and no more oil leaks from them. You knock on the side of the wagon as John jumps down, groaning when the wagon sounds hollow. 

"All the oils' gone." You sigh, rubbing your face as John paces around the backside of the wagon. Athena grows antsy from the upset, and she stomps and rears lightly. 

"Now what the hell do we do?" You ask angrily, calling Athena over to comfort her. You hand her an oatcake to munch on and stroke her neck as John comes up with a plan. Athena's gentle nickers calm you down, and you take a deep breath as she leans into your hand. John is standing back from the wagon, hands on his hips as he thinks it over.

"It'll work just the same. The conductor won't know if it's full or not." John says, biting his cheek and you sigh. 

"We can't just go get another one." John huffs, "That oil factory is on high alert now." 

"You're sure it'll work?" You ask, stepping towards him with raised eyebrows.

"It'll work." He reassures you. You nod, sighing and waking towards the front of the wagon where the two white shire horses are hooked up. John does the same on the other side, and you both slice the leather harness straps, freeing the horses. 

"When's it comin' through?" You ask, patting the shire horse to run off. 

"Tomorrow night." John says, and your stomach aches at the thought. Only twenty four hours until your first train job. 

Athena and Old Boy are grazing next to each other just a short walk away from the wagon, and you and John silently walk towards them, sheathing your knives and watching as the pair of white shire horses run up over the hill, bucking and whinnying.

"You ever rob a train before?" John asks, looking over at your anxious expression. You shake your head, coming up to Athena. 

"No, afraid not. Just drunken idiots usually." You chuckle, and John smiles. 

"Y'know I'm glad it was Arthur's watch you stole, and not mine back in Tumbleweed. I probably never would have noticed, and you'd still be runnin' all over hell in the west." John chuckles, and you smile at the memory, mounting onto Athena. 

"Still can't believe he brought ya back like he did, but I'm glad for it." John says, climbing onto his stallion. Your eyebrows pull together lightly at his remark.

"Why's that?" You ask, cueing Athena into a canter with John behind you.

"Arthur, he ain't never brought someone back to camp before you, and he throws a big fuss when someone new comes in. He gets all pissed and leaves for a few days. He says it's 'easier to lie low with less people.' Musta seen somethin' in you, though." John hollers up to you, and your features soften. You wonder why Arthur chose differently for you, why he brought you back to camp. 

"He's different with you." John says, galloping alongside you, and you have to push Athena further ahead to hide the blush on your cheeks. You want to quip something back, but you come up short because you know he's right. You've heard the same testament from each of the girls, Hosea, and Arthur himself. 

It grows quiet as you gallop through The Heartlands, avoiding the roads and any lingering lawmen. It's late, near midnight when you finally get close to camp. You can hear the cheers and laughter from the road, and you smile back at John.

"Guess they found him." You chuckle, trotting Athena under the fallen tree into camp. When you breach the trees, coming into the little opening, the sight has you laughing. Camp is lighter than it's been in a while. Sean is standing on a crate giving some grand speech with everyone gathered around, and by the sound of it he's already drunk. You hitch Athena, and John nudges your elbow. 

"Reckon I'm gonna go be with my family. Thanks for your help." John pats your back before walking off towards the camp. You smile, taking off the straps of Athena's saddle and placing it over the hitching post before walking towards the crowd.

"Get a load of this bastard." Arthur huffs, walking up beside you with two whiskeys in hand, gesturing to Sean. He hands you a drink, and you smile, glad to be home. 

"Found him strung up in a damn tree surrounded by bounty hunters." 

"A-and I owe my life to old English over 'tere!" Sean points to Arthur, "Yep, 'tats right! Old grumpy Arthur Morgan! Come to save me, ya did! You're my brother, ya arsehole!" Sean laughs heartily, jumping down from the crate and approaching the two of you. 

"Miss!" Sean calls out to you, and Arthur chuckles, sipping his drink. Sean comes to you with a big toothless grin, a contagious one, and wraps you in a hug.

"Ah, I've already got the gossip from Ms. Jones, callin ya Star now, eh?" Sean asks, letting you go before nudging you with his elbow, "It's fittin! Y'know they say you twose are tied together like glue!" Sean winks at you lightly, nudging you and gesturing to Arthur. 

"I know a couple good spots for a shag if you two need a getaway. N' I know an Irishman if you get tired a' this ol'-" Sean starts, pointing to Arthur, but Arthur has had enough.

"Would you please shut up?" Arthur bites, hand pulling away from the bridge of his nose as you giggle. Sean puts his hands up in mock surrender. 

"I was just teasin'! Only pullin' yer leg!" Sean chuckles, tipping his hat to you before backing away and rejoining the crowd. 

"I did not miss that kid." Arthur sighs, leading you towards the campfire where Javier sits, playing a tune. Everyone is in good spirits, especially as Hosea enters with Dutch and two huge, full cases of alcohol, announcing the return party. 

"Yes you did." You tell Arthur, smirking as he sits down on the wolf pelt covered log. You sit down right next to him, closer than what's expected, but you're growing used to the proximity, finding comfort in it even. Sean is talking loudly to the girls as everyone gathers around the crates of hooch. The bottles pass around quickly as Javier picks up a new tune. It's one that everyone knows, and you smile. 

"Cielito Lindo." You remark with a chuckle as Javier picks up the rhythm on his guitar. More people gather around the fire. Dutch, John, the girls, Uncle, Lenny, even Abigail and Jack join in as Javier starts to play. Jack sits on John's lap, nestled right next to Abigail, and you smile at them. 

"¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! ¡Canta y no llores!" Everyone hollers out, not sure of the lyrics or their meaning, but enjoying the energetic song. Even Arthur sings along, and you giggle at his steadily behind, off key tune. 

"¡Porque cantando se alegran, Cielito lindo, los corazones!" Javier sings out, passionately stringing the guitar as a few people clap along and laugh. The smile on your face is brighter than it's been in a while as you watch the weight lift off of the gang's shoulders. Arthur is smiling, and for that you are very grateful. You'd do anything to see him like this more often, carefree and happy. Javier continues the song verse, and everyone claps along until the chorus comes. 

"¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! ¡Canta y no llores!" Everyone calls out again, and you hold your drink up a little as you sing it. Javier continues the song, and you chuckle as Jack pulls Abigail up from her seat to dance with him. He spins around and hops with very little rhythm, just having fun. Arthur chuckles beside you, eyes bright as they lay upon the same scene. 

"You want another drink?" Arthur asks, noticing that your first is nearly gone. You shake your head. 

"No thanks, think I'm cuttin' myself off for the night." You say, handing the bottle over for him to finish. 

"I'm surprised you drank at all after that mess in Valentine." Arthur chuckles as Javier sings out the song's verse. 

"I only had one. Don't plan on bein' that sick ever again, and we got one hell of a job to do tomorrow." You whisper, mind lingering on the train job. You'd like to drink, just to forget about it, but heading into it with a foggy mind is the opposite of what you need. Arthur sighs, digging the heel of his boot into the dirt. 

"We do." He remarks, eyes flickering up to Dutch. Arthur can't understand why Dutch is pushing this job right now with the Pinkertons so close. But he trusts Dutch, and knows he'll lead them out of it. You're not so sure. Dutch is watching you from across camp, a snake-like glint in his eye. You can see the way he wants to use you, to play you like his chess piece and defeat some great power. It's useless, it's ridiculous. An outlaw runs from the law, but Dutch is challenging it, intentionally aggravating it. It's a dangerous game. 

"I got a bad feeling about this job, Arthur." You bring up that gut feeling again, and you know you're right. You don't trust this job, and something is going to go wrong. 

"I know you do… You and John get that wagon today?" Arthur asks as Javier picks up a different song on his guitar. 

"We got the wagon just fine, but it's empty. We were caught red handed and they shot it to hell, all the oil leaked out." You sigh, embarrassed to admit the failure to Arthur, "John says it'll work just fine though, the conductor won't know if it's empty or not." You add as Arthur curses. 

"Enough about that, why don't we just enjoy the party?" You ask, wanting to talk about anything other than the train job and the damn empty wagon. Arthur taps your knee with his knuckles. 

"Sure." He says, offering you a small smile and you release a breath. Javier is playing a new song now, one you don't recognize, but it's a joyful tune, light and happy. 

"Arthur!" Marybeth calls from across the fire, giggling and trodding over towards you both with a big, bright smile. 

"Yes, Miss Gaskill?" Arthur asks as Marybeth comes forward and grabs one of his hands. 

"Dance with me?" She asks, leaning back in an attempt to pull him from his seat. He chuckles, looking over to you for a moment with a rosy blush on his cheeks.

"Oh, I think I'll sit this one out-" Arthur starts, but you shove him upwards by his shoulder, laughing. 

"Go on!" You encourage, shooing them with your hands. Marybeth giggles as she pulls Arthur away, and he turns around to shoot you a glare, with pink cheeks. You chuckle, looking after them as she takes him away from the fire. She pulls him just near the back of Dutch's tent, beside the poker table. He takes her hand, standing awkwardly far from her as the other rests on her waist. You can't help but snort as he starts to dance.

He's awful. Truly the man can't dance, but it's just another quirk that you love about him. He swings side to side with her, arms loosely flinging about, and even though it looks ridiculous they both have huge smiles. A few others have joined, and now Dutch spins Molly around eloquently, and Karen and Sean cling to each other, drunk as ever. Your eyebrows pop up in surprise at the two of them. You had only seen Sean in passing before Blackwater, but Karen had never mentioned they were together. 

Your eyes flicker back to Arthur and Marybeth. They still dance merrily, but Marybeth seems to be scolding Arthur over something, arguing with him. Your eyebrows pull together as he huffs, bickering with her like a sibling would. Javier's song crescendos to an end, and as the claps die down, he starts a new one. You recognize it immediately, Ángel de Amor. It's a slower paced song, a sweet and romantic one. People join their own conversations as the song begins, leaving Javier to quietly carry the tune on his own. As it begins, Marybeth and Arthur's argument seems to come to a head as Marybeth gives him one final scold, and then walks away from him with a big smile. Confused, your eyebrows pull together as Arthur returns to you, but he doesn't sit down. He stands in front of you, extending his right hand down to yours. 

"Dance wit' me?" He asks, and you chuckle. 

"I don't know, you gonna trip me?" You ask, smiling up at him. The nervousness breaks away as he chuckles. 

"Not tonight." He says, and you take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. 

"C'mon." He whispers, leading you past the campfire towards the front of his tent, far enough away from the campfire for some privacy.

Arthur pulls you into the same goofy dance as he did with Marybeth, and you smile brightly. Arthur's sure that your smile could outshine the stars, evoking that joy from you is one of the better things he's done in his life, something he wants to keep doing. 

"¿Quién te cortó las alas, mi ángel? ¿Quién te arranco los sueños hoy?" Javier sings softly as Arthur dances with you. 

"Y'know, I'm sorry to say this Arthur, but you can't dance for shit." You chuckle, glancing down at his feet that move with very little rhythm. 

"Oh I can. I'm just havin' fun. You shoulda seen me in my ballroom days." Arthur quips, and you laugh. You're sure he's joking, how Arthur could willingly be put in a ballroom is beyond you, it's surely a joke. Arthur raises an eyebrow at your laugh, wondering if you're seriously doubting him.

"You weren't never in a ballr-" You start, but are cut off with your own gasp as Arthur pulls you tightly against him. His hand snakes to your waist, his other clasps your hand tightly as he stands up straight and tall with a raised eyebrow. His body is stiff, but relaxed all the like, he's collected in his movements, experienced, as he leans you down, dipping you. Your eyes are wide in shock, as he holds you in the dip with a cocky smirk. Your heart rate pounds with him pulled so tightly against you, your neck exposed and hair cascading down as he bends you backwards. Then he brings you back up, chuckling. 

"You continue to surprise me more and more every day, Arthur." You chuckle, still in disbelief, "Where in the hell did you learn that?" You ask, heart beat returning to normal as he pulls you against him again, swaying you in a very simple slow dance. 

"Had to take lessons once when I was younger. Didn't care for it at all, but I was an idiot back then." Arthur says, and you hum, wondering if these fancy dancing lessons have anything to do with the letter in his tent.

"Ángel, Ángel, ángel de amor. No te abandones." Javier continues the song as Arthur pulls you a little closer to him, hand warm on your waist.

Your cheeks flush, hidden away in his chest as Arthur sways with you on the grass. A few eyes linger on you both, but Arthur turns your back to them so you never know. He's enjoying the moment. You haven't left yet, haven't walked away with blushed cheeks or made an excuse as to why you can't dance with him, and that has to count for something he's sure.

 It grows quiet between the two of you as you rest your head against his shoulder and sway with him. Soon your arm grows tired, so Arthur snakes both of his around your waist and you place yours on his chest. It's incredibly vulnerable for you to be like this, but you trust Arthur. He hasn't pushed you. Abigail nudges John across the camp, nodding her head to you, and a few more eyes linger on you both. Arthur ignores them, keeping you in a position so that you can't even see the nosey stares. 

"You look beautiful." Arthur whispers, eyes looking down at you, watching as the wind tousles your hair and your dark red shirt brings out your complexion beautifully. Your eyes sparkle up at him, but you blush and hide them away in his shoulder as he sways you to the music.

"Arthur, stop." You chastise, cheeks red as you hide them. You're a bit upset that he's ruined the mood, taken your mind from simple dancing to the conundrum of your heart. He hums deeply, nodding his head. 

"You ain't ready yet, I know… I'll wait 'til you are. For you, I will." Arthur whispers, and tears begin to pool in your eyes, "And if you decide you don't want any a' this, that's okay too. I'm still your best friend." Arthur whispers, and tears run down your face silently, soaking into his dark shirt. 

"I'll dance with you for real one day, somewhere nice." Arthur whispers, and you look up to his green eyes. They soften when they see the tears falling from your own. You're thinking of a proper response when Arthur speaks up for you. 

"S'okay. You don't gotta say anything." Arthur whispers, thumb wiping away the tears from your cheek. You sniffle, hands clinging to the lapels of his shirt as the music continues on for a bit longer. 

"Yo no siento el que me hayas querido. Yo no siento el que me hayas amado." Javier sings, strumming his guitar. 

Arthur's heart aches, holding you like this, swaying with you and knowing you won't allow yourself to open up. He places his chin atop your head, inhaling deeply before letting the breath go with his worries. You're here now, that's all he can ask for.

Your heart aches just the same. It's torn in two,  both sides fighting for different things. One is fighting for what you know: independence, freedom, and solitude in the west without being held down by a gang. And the other is fighting for what you want: family and friendships, the safety of numbers, purpose and most of all him. 

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut while blocking the thoughts out, letting yourself enjoy the moment. 

"I'm sorry, Arthur." You whisper, and he leans back, unsure if he's heard you right. 

"What on earth are you apologizin' for?" He asks as Javier's song comes to a bittersweet end. 

"Me… us." You whisper, gesturing to him and yourself. You're a mess, unable to get your feelings in order, unable to figure out what you want, and to tell him. You feel awful, dragging him along without ever fully opening up to him but it's so hard. 

Arthur takes your hands in his own, and you look up to his eyes. 

"Cut that out. Don't you apologize to me, ya hear? Not for this." Arthur says, no room for argument and you nod. 

"Now c'mon. Plenty of people waitin' for us at the fire." Arthur says, pulling you by the hand towards the camp. You pass by John's tent, feeling a little better.

With a small smile on your lips, you walk on with him. That is until you hear a shuffling from John's tent, and a groan. You stop dead in your tracks, looking up to where John and Abigail sit next to Jack by the fire. If they're at the campfire… who's in their tent?

"C'mere ya little minx!" Sean chuckles from inside the tent. Your jaw drops, and your hand falls slack from Arthur's. He turns at your reaction, catching the same scene. 

"Isn't this John's tent?" Karen asks, and you hear the ripping of buttons immediately. You look at Arthur with wide eyes, and a slack jaw, chuckling in horror.

"Eh, it's not like he's usin' it anyways!" Fabric hits the floor as you and Arthur stare at the closed tent in shock, "Ah, you're beautiful Karen Jones, beautiful, I love ya! And I love these too!" Sean chuckles and your cheeks burn red.

"Oh." Karen whispers, disappointed in something as you start to laugh. 

"Meet Macguire junior!" Sean hollers, and immediately Arthur clasps his hand over your mouth to quiet the loud laughter that was about to fall from it. 

"Is- is that it?" Karen asks, and you're nearly wheezing as Arthur keeps his hand over your mouth, chuckling himself until you're out of earshot from their tent. 

"Oh my god." You laugh until tears form in your eyes, and Arthur is laughing as well. You've managed to escape in front of Arthur's tent to avoid the show those two are putting on. Once your laughter dies down, you wipe your eyes, moving them to the campfire once more. 

Abigail has taken Jack into her lean-to next to Strauss's wagon to lie down for the night, and some of the girls along with Dutch and Molly have retired for bed. 

"You comin' back to the fire?" Arthur asks, following your gaze. You look up to him, then to the festivities, biting your cheek. 

"I think I'm gonna go to bed, actually." You whisper, feeling bad for bailing so soon. You're exhausted from the oil wagon today, and you want to be well rested for tomorrow. Arthur’s face falls a bit as he glances at the party behind him, then to his pocket watch. 

"So soon?" Arthur asks, looking a little disappointed. 

"I'm sorry Arthur, it's just with the train tomorrow… I want to be well rested with a clear head." You whisper. 

"I understand." He whispers, it's past one in the morning, and he knows you're tired, "I reckon I'll stay up for a bit yet, keep these boys in line… Get some sleep, Star." Arthur whispers, coming forward to gently chastise you, tapping your temple, "and stop worryin' about the train. It'll go just fine." He offers with a smile before backing away. 

"Night Arthur." You mumble, attempting to follow his instructions and release your anxieties. 

"G'night, Star."

— — — — 

The next morning, you wake up earlier than expected. You don't know what time it is, still haven't replaced Arthur's pocket watch from where it was left behind in Blackwater. But it's quiet enough for you to know that no one else is up. You stretch in bed, enjoying the feel as your achy joints pop. You flex your ankle, noticing that the ache has subsided from your less than stellar landing yesterday, and then you're getting up.

You pull on a dark green overshirt, one of your favorites, a black pair of jeans that button up the whole way, and a little white neckerchief, tied in the front. It's a cute outfit, and you hum, checking yourself over before re braiding your hair and topping it with your black hat. Then you're on the move, in search of some coffee. 

You find that you were wrong, you're not the only one up. You chuckle as Jack whizzes up to you, more excited than you've ever seen. 

"Aunt Star!" He jumps excitedly, taking your hand and pointing to the hitching posts, "look!" He shouts, giggling. 

Your eyebrows knit together at the sight of Kieran taking on the role of the camp farrier. He has a very grumpy Balius with him, and he's working on pulling the nails from the shire's massive shoe. 

"Kieren's shoin' the horses…? You ask, confused as to why Jack's so excited, then a chuckle sounds out from your right. Arthur is leaning over his shaving station, face partially covered in shaving cream as he trims his mustache and beard with a barber's blade. You smile at the sight, something you've not seen him do before. Of course he shaves with an incredible amount of detail and care, just like everything else he does. 

"Well…" Arthur taps the blade against his pail of water before returning it to his cheek, "when Kieran's done, little Jack here will have four new shoes for playin' horseshoes' with everyone. We haven't been able to play in a long while, not since before you joined us." Arthur explains, and you smile at the idea. 

"Well then I can't wait!" You say, rubbing some dirt off of Jack's cheek before he runs off, on his way to tell his very hungover daddy about the ordeal. 

"You're good with him. He really seems to care about you." Arthur remarks and you smile. 

"Ah, it's nothin'. He's a good kid." You mumble, remembering your earlier task of needing coffee, and you spot the percolator from across camp near Pearson's stew pot. You wonder if it's even full, with so few of the gang members awake. 

"I'm gonna go make some coffee, want some?" You ask, but Arthur stops you.

"Already made ya some. It's sittin on my table, should still be hot." He says, wiping the extra cream from his face with a damp towel.

"On the ball this morning, are we?" You ask, chuckling as you move inside his tent to find a steaming tin cup of coffee. You gratefully accept the bitter coffee, enjoying the way the cup warms your hands and the caffeine wakes your mind. 

"Well I need a favor." He asks, turning towards you, "Ride with me?" 

You raise an eyebrow at him, seeing that he's bribed you, but you nod anyway. 

"Sure, where to?" You ask as he comes around the side of his tent, leading you to the large map plastered to the side of his wagon. 

"Think right here is a good spot." He taps the map right over a little marshy field labeled Heartland Overflow.  

"Why are we goin' all the way out there?" You ask, eyeing over the map. The marsh is near a spot marked Emerald Ranch, a place you haven't heard of before. 

"There's a feller nearby that runs a fence. I managed to steal some stuff from the camp where they had Sean, reckon I'll head down and sell it off. Then I figure me n' you can spend the mornin' there. I know you're worried about this train, we can just rest away from camp till it's time." Arthur explains, pulling out his hunting knife to sharpen the blade as he does. 

"Okay, that sounds nice." You smile, releasing a breath before taking a sip from your coffee, "Should I take my stuff for the train or will we be back?" You ask, gesturing to your tent. 

He follows your gaze, thinking for a moment. 

"Ya better take it, I don't know how long we'll be out." He mumbles, and you nod before walking back towards your tent. Amidst your anxieties, you had packed everything you might need for the train: your guns, mask, canned goods in case you get stuck away from camp, extra ammo and the shotgun you'd found at Six Point cabin. Looking over your bed and nightstand just to make sure you haven't missed something, you back out of the tent. 

"Kieran done with Balius?" You ask, keeping your voice quiet as to not wake up the many sleeping, hungover gang members. 

"Looks to be just about." Arthur says, nodding to where Kieran drops Balius's back hoof to the ground, giving him a pat. 

"C'mon then. I'll lead the way." He adds. 

You both take your time tacking up the horses. For once, there's no rush to be anywhere. You brush Athena's golden coat thoroughly, petting her and sneaking her treats while Arthur does the same for his stallion. You ease the saddle on her, tightening the cinches just enough before mounting up. 

"Ready?" You ask, looking down to Arthur with a chuckle as he is just putting Balius's bridle on.

"Just a minute." He says, rather grumpily. And you wait for him, loosening your reins so that Athena can graze while he clambers up onto his massive horse. Once he's up, he nods for you to follow him out of camp. It's a decently long ride. Emerald Ranch is pretty far out there, but it's close to Dewberry Creek, so at least you won't be far from the train come dark. You focus on the scenery, watching the way the landscape changes the further you ride on. As you get closer, the jutting cliffs turn to grassy plains, and bison cause the ground to shake as they thunder across the fields. 

"Are we close?" You holler up to Arthur. Your back is a little sore from the long ride, and you slip your feet out of the stirrups to give your legs rest. 

"Sure…  Why? You feelin alright?" Arthur turns in his saddle, glancing over your form to check. Really you don't feel alright. You didn't sleep much last night, truthfully you're not sure how Arthur is awake because he slept less than you. You're still not able to shake your nerves either. 

"Yeah, just tired is all." You semi lie, but Arthur isn't fooled. 

"I'll take you to the Overflow first. You can set us up a proper picnic while I run this stuff down to the fence. Sound good?" Arthur asks, turning Balius off the main road. 

"Yeah. You brought a picnic?" You smile, noticing that Arthur's saddlebags are bulkier than usual. You should have noticed earlier that they're stuffed to the brim. 

"I did. Nothin' fancy but I figured you might get hungry while we're out here." Arthur answers, and you chuckle, wondering what treats he's packed for you. You trot through the grass, coming upon a little collection of grassy ponds. This must be Heartland Overflow. It's beautiful, and wildlife runs about, scattering at the sound of the horse's hooves. 

"Why don't you take my bag n' find us a nice spot?" Arthur asks as you ride up alongside Balius. He turns in his saddle, untying the knots that hold his saddle bag on before slumping it over Athena's croup. 

"Okay. Don't take too long or I'm gonna be havin' this all for myself." You admit, chuckling as you turn Athena away, separating from Arthur. 

Arthur shakes his head with a smile before pushing Balius into a canter towards a green-roofed barn in the distance. Once he's down the other side of the hill and you can't see him any longer, you turn to your surroundings. 

Across the pond is a large weeping willow. It provides a perfect amount of shade, and makes a beautiful spot for the morning. You kiss to Athena, urging her to walk through the ankle deep water toward the other side. Water splashes up and soaks onto your boots as Athena trots through it, enjoying the coolness on her legs. Once you're on the other side, under the weeping willow, you slide down from your mare. You don't bother to hitch her. She trusts you enough to come when you call, and you want her to enjoy the grassy fields while she can. You take the heavy saddle bag and toss it to the ground under the willow before sitting on your knees to go through it. 

First you take out a blanket, it's a big blue one, and you stand to spread it out on the grass. The wind works to your advantage as you sprawl it out, making a perfect cushion for you both to sit on. Then, seated on the blanket, you pull out two cans of peaches, two bread rolls, a can of strawberries, two slices of beef jerky, and a chocolate bar. You eye the food hungrily, laying it out nice for when Arthur comes back. Then, just to double check, you reach back into the bag. Your fingers brush against an unfamiliar smooth texture, and your eyebrows pull together as you grip it, taking it out. 

Immediately your eyes go wide as, from the bag, you bring out Arthur's journal. You hold the precious book in your lap, looking down to the heavily used pages before looking up at the ridge.

You shouldn't… but Arthur won't be back for some time and you really want to know what he's written. You've only seen the contents of his journal once, back when he showed you in Horseshoe. 

Releasing a breath, you curse yourself, deciding just to flip to one page and then put it back. You run your thumb across the pages, flipping to one of the more recent entries. Immediately you smile, chuckling as your eyes run across the page briefly. It's a drawing of you and Lenny. He's leaning on the bar, drinking a beer and you're dancing in front of the pianist. Arthur had managed to capture the moment perfectly, as if he had paused time and drawn it. You scan down your smiling face, looking back to you in the form of Arthur's sketching. Even in the drawing you can see the drunken haze in your eyes, the freedom as you danced to the piano to your heart's content. 

Then your eyes flicker to the other side of the page where a neatly written entry is scribbled diagonally on the paper. 

In some ways I hope I never forget this night. In others, I wish to wipe it from my mind entirely. It seems that alcohol loosened Star's lips, and I guess it loosened mine too. I just hope I don't come to regret the things I said, the things I remember at least. 

You look up from the journal, jaw slack as you attempt to remember what happened that night. What had you said? What had Arthur said? 

You swallow thickly, looking down to the journal with some worry before flipping to the next page. 

Mary sent me a letter. Said she's in town and heard talk of us in Valentine. She wants to see me, said she misses what we had. I used to. I used to miss her a lot, but I reckon that's all old business now. I think I've finally put Mary in the past, moved on after all these goddamn years. I got some hope now, something good for once. 

You look up from the journal with your jaw open again. His journal has left you with more questions than answers, and you huff. Mary clearly meant something to Arthur at one point, perhaps an old fling? But the girls knew of her, so she had to mean something more. 

With a newfound sour mood, you tuck Arthur's journal back into his bag. Is it jealousy you feel? Or anger? You're not sure, but without having met her, Mary manages to get under your skin. You wonder if she's pretty, and if she has the money to wear nice dresses and makeup. Then you sigh, frustrated. Even though his journal is stuffed back into his bag, you can feel its leather cover burning into your skin, bugging you. 

Hooves sound out from the ridge line, and you look up to see Arthur appear over the hill. He's cantering down towards you, satchel lighter now that he's pawned off some items. Even though you're glad he's back, you can't help the annoyed curiosity that bubbles up in your stomach. 

Oblivious, Arthur rides up to the blanket before dismounting. 

"Good spot." He says, sending Balius off after grabbing a flask from his satchel, "Turns out old Seamus sells too." Arthur chuckles, tossing the moonshine flask down onto the blanket by your legs. 

Attempting to crack a smile, you take the flask and unscrew the lid. Arthur rests down on the blanket beside you, sitting just a few inches from you. Once the lid is undone, you take a swig of the alcohol. It burns, more so than anything you've ever drank, and you cough, throat raw from the stuff. 

"Jesus." You cough, handing the flask back to Arthur. 

"Moonshine. Nasty stuff." Arthur jokes, taking a drink from the same flask. He doesn't seem to mind it, only groaning once it's down. Arthur sees the distant look on your face, he notices that you haven't touched any of the food laid out either. 

"You okay?" Arthur asks, a little crease in between his eyebrows. You look upset, and Arthur hopes that you're not worrying about the train. 

"Who's Mary?" You blurt out, not even realizing you've actually said it out loud until Arthur's face draws up. 

"What?" Arthur asks, looking almost offended, and very surprised. 

"I asked you, who's Mary?" You repeat, looking up to Arthur. Your tone is irritated, and you realize that you're ruining the picnic, but you can't bring yourself to stop. You're mad, mad because Arthur has managed to keep this from you, and apparently you're the only one in the damn gang that doesn't know about her. 

"How do you even know about Mary?" Arthur scoffs, eyes squinted as he leans back from you. 

"Jesus, I didn't realize she was a secret. I guess I just wanna know why she's callin' you out to her house all the sudden when I haven't even heard of her before." You bite. 

Arthur's demeanor changes then, shifting to the angry, threatening man that you've only seen a handful of times in action. Part of you wants to shy away, but you push your shoulders back and meet him head on with the same stubborn aggression. 

"Did you read my damn mail?" Arthur hisses, glancing at you, and then down to the bag at your side. Everything seems to click in his head then, and he huffs humorlessly. 

"No. No you read my goddamn journal, didn't you? Just couldn't keep your nosey eyes off them pages huh?" He bites, picking up the bag just to toss it at your feet. The contents spill out in your lap, and his open journal falls out alongside the candies he had brought for you, the yellow ones. 

"Y'know I hope you read it all. I hope you read every damn page, cause then you won't have to ask anymore questions. We wouldn't be playin this damn game…" Arthur hisses, pacing as he begins to berate you. "Why do you have the right to ask me about Mary when you haven't told me shit about your past? You can't even talk to me. You can't open up at all, closed off like a damn bottle, but you have no problem pryin' into everybody else's lives!" He growls, waiting for you to bite back.

On the ground, feeling like a fool, your lip trembles. You know he's right. He's hit the nail right on the head with his assumption, but it hurts nonetheless. You've stepped too far, you know, but it doesn't stop Arthur from overstepping too. 

"Heard you was pryin' into John's business too. God- you're a hypocrite. Did you think at all about your inability to handle your own shit before you went and did that?" Arthur fumes, and you bring your knees up to your chin. Arthur is waiting for your retort, for your comeback. He knows it'll come, but with his back to you, waiting, it doesn't. You always have a retort, and your silence is louder than any insult you could have thrown back at him. When he turns back towards you, already realizing he's crossed a boundary, he sees the tear track running down your cheek.

"Don't." You whisper, sniffling back the tears that fall so often now, "I can take this from anyone but you." You whimper, head falling to your knees. 

When Arthur's eyes land upon you he doesn't know what to do. You look so small, crumpled up on the ground, a mess. He wants to argue with you, to be mad about the journal, but at the same time he wants to comfort you. He knows what you're battling right now, and he knows he shouldn't have brought it up. Feeling like an ass, Arthur slumps to the ground at your side again. He lays back against the blanket, looking up at the sky before sighing. 

"Mary was my fiancé. Long time ago. Ain't talked to her in years." Arthur admits, and you peek up from your knees, wondering what sparked the change in his tone. 

"Now that's all I'm giving you until you tell me somethin too. But for now, eat somethin. We gotta get movin soon." Arthur says, coldly. 

— — — —

It's nearly dark. There's just enough light for you to make the trip over to Dewberry Creek. You lead the way silently, still not having said a word to Arthur since the argument. You don't know what to say. Apologies aren't exactly your strong suit. You're mad. Mad at Arthur, but mostly mad at yourself for ruining the day with your selfishness, your hypocrisy as Arthur put it. 

You can hear Sean rambling as you approach the old building, and you trot Athena up to where the wagon is hidden. 

"Why the hell are you here?" Arthur snaps at Sean, clearly still irritated from earlier. You've put him in a sour mood, one that everyone is going to have to deal with. 

"Oi I’m just taggin along! Back for a day n’ already jumpin inta the action! My da always used to say that jumpin in was better than jumpin’ out! But I think he was talkin about gettin some arse!" Sean chuckles, not skipping a beat over Arthur's attitude. 

"Oh, shut up." Charles groans, and at the sound of his voice you notice him leaning against one of the beams of the burned down house. John is already in the driver's side of the wagon, and Taima and Old Boy are hooked up to the front. You dismount, walking over to the wagon behind Arthur. 

"Look at us! Four strong shootin men, and a lady!" Sean chuckles, climbing up on the wagon beside John who rolls his eyes. 

"Shouldn't we be going over the plan?" Charles points out, climbing onto the side of the wagon to hang on, just as you and Arthur do on the other side. The wagon begins to roll out of the trees as John smacks the reins over the horse's backs. 

"We roll the wagon over the tracks and leave the horses go." John explains, "They'll see the oil and stop. It's easy." 

Sean turns in his seat, looking over the wagon before turning back to John. 

"Yeah but t'eres no oil in the wagon." Sean points out, and collectively everyone else rolls their eyes. 

"Well the conductor don't know that, so it don't matter!" John bites, irritated with everyone's doubts and questions. 

"I don't like it…" You whisper, gripping onto the metal bars of the wagon as it rolls down the road, inching closer towards the train tracks. 

"We ain't got much of a choice." John replies. Once the plan is set, Arthur begins ordering people around, crafting a more detailed plan for the job. 

"As soon as she stops, board her. Charles, deal with the conductor and the front security. John take the passengers. Sean and Star, as soon as she slows, head to the baggage car." He orders, and you roll your eyes at the assignment he's stuck you with. 

"And what are you gonna do?" Charles asks. 

"I'm gonna make sure she slows." 

John pulls the wagon forward, slowing the horses to a stop once the oil wagon is situated over the tracks. You jump down as John and Arthur begin untying the horses from the front, sending them away into the woods.

"Is everyone good with the plan?" Arthur hollers, and you look around, realizing that this is happening. It's inescapable now, and you'll have to deal with the anxiety in your chest. 

"Yeah, we're good." Charles answers, and you nod your head, eyes fixed on the bed in the railroad tracks where the train will be approaching shortly. 

"Alright everyone get in the woods!" Arthur orders, pulling his mask up over his nose before placing one of his boots on the iron track. Charles notices your hesitancy, and grips your arm to pull you towards the treeline. 

"Hey, you alright?" Charles asks, pulling your neckerchief up over your nose as you've forgotten. You nod, a little too quick for his liking. 

"Just nervous." You admit. 

"Just stick with Sean. You'll be okay." Charles offers, squeezing your shoulder lightly. You nod, focusing your attention back on Arthur. 

You feel the vibration of the train long before you see it coming. Arthur's boot shakes against the track, and once he feels it coming he climbs up on top of the oil wagon. You gasp, eyes going wide as he holds his carbine in front of him, in a threatening stance on top of the wagon. He looks like nothing short of a criminal up there, a cold hearted killer. He stands on the wagon with a threatening stance, symbolizing everything that the government wishes to destroy. Feet planted on either side of the oil barrel, it doesn't appear that Arthur will be giving the law a break any time soon. The sight of him standing up on that wagon is one you're sure you'll never forget. If you didn't know Arthur, you'd be terrified. 

Nothing can be heard but uneven, anxious breathing as the train comes around the corner. it's far off, too far for the conductor to see Arthur, but once the bright white headlight peeks around the bend your breath hitches in your throat. 

Arthur cocks his repeater, and you watch as the train comes closer. You expect the train to blow its whistle, for the conductor to do something to warm off Arthur, but he doesn't. Your eyebrows draw together as the train continues to barrel forward, unbothered by the obstruction ahead.

"Why ain't it slowin'?" You ask, breath uneven as your heart rate picks up speed. 

No one responds, watching as it continues forward. Even Arthur seems to lose his composure, stance faltering as the train continues on. It's getting closer to the wagon, and you're not sure if it'll have time to stop before it crashes. 

"There's still time. Hold on." Sean says, eyes flickering up to the rapidly approaching train. 

"John?! Why ain't it stoppin?!" You beg, looking frantically between Arthur and the train. Charles pulls out a pair of binoculars, looking through them to the engine car. 

"Shit! He's dead or he's asleep, but either way the train isn't stopping." Charles says, stuffing his binoculars back as anxiety pangs in your chest. The train is too close now, it can't stop in time even if the conductor were to wake up.

"ARTHUR JUMP!" John screams as all four of you jog out of the woods. Arthur glances between the group of you and the train, unable to hear over the rumbling and screeching. 

"JUMP!" You plead, screaming. Arthur glances at the train once more, and getting the message he jumps as far out as he can. He hits the ground hard, rolling down the slope before he stops. It's only seconds later that the train smashes into the oil wagon. You thank god it's empty, and there's no explosion, but the metallic screech hurts your ears as the train pushes the wagon over in a huge crash. Sparks fly as metal scrapes off metal, but the train carries on forward, pushing the oil wagon in front of it until itfalls off to the side. 

"Why the hell didn't he stop?!" Arthur yells, whistling for Balius.

"The conductor is dead!" You yell, "Are we really still doin' this?" 

Four horses come running up the hill towards you, and the boys mount up ahead of you. 

"Yes! Now mount up, we can catch it before it gets to Rhodes!" John yells, and you leap onto Athena, urging her forward before you even put your feet in the stirrups. The chase is terrifying. It's hard to see in the dark, and you put full trust into Athena as she barrels forward after the train. Sean is the first to catch up, and he jumps from his horse onto the train's roof.

Your heart pounds in your ears as you run forward, watching as Charles, John and Arthur all jump onto the train. 

"Star, cmon!" Arthur yells, and you try to breath as you stand in your saddle, barely able to balance. You jump as far as you can, hoping that you'll make it. The jump is terrifying, but worse is the pain as your body slams against the side of the train. Only your hands have made it to the top as you grip onto the roof, feet dangling down to the rapidly passing ground below. Then a hand grips yours, and pulls you up into the roof. You gasp, looking up to yours and Arthur's hands, muttering a small 'thanks' between trembling breaths. 

"Plan stays the same. Charles, get this thing stopped!" Arthur orders, just as two armed guards climb up onto the roof.

"They're fixin' to rob the train!" One of the boys yells and starts shooting from his revolver. You unholster your own, balancing on the quick moving train as you fire twice into the man's chest. The second man breaches the top, and Sean takes him down with a headshot. The train makes you motion sick, and you have to bite down bile, forcing your eyes away from the ground. 

"We're gettin' too damn close to the town!" John yells, firing into more men as they climb up onto the roof. 

You whip around, looking for Charles to see if he's made progress in getting to the engine car. You don't see him on the roof, so you assume he's close. 

"John! Get down there, me and Star will hold them off. Sean, get to the baggage car!" Arthur yells out. They follow his orders, jumping down to the train cars from behind you and Arthur. 

"Why's there so many?" You yell over the noise as two more men fire toward you.

"I don't know, sure are a lot for an unguarded train- goddammit!" Arthur yells back. 

You lose your balance as the train quickly starts to slow down. Sparks fly and metal screeches as the train begins to slow. You release a breath, reloading your revolver as more guards shoot at you from across the train cars. The train never stops, instead in one fluid movement it slows enough and then starts going backwards.

"Wait- wait, shit!" You yell as the train starts moving in reverse. Just as quickly as the train has stopped, it starts accelerating in the wrong direction, back towards Valentine. 

"What the hell is happenin?" You scream back towards the engine car. You fire into one last guard, and then they stop coming up to the roof for now. 

"We're goin' too fast!" You point out, losing your balance again as trees start to blur by, making you dizzy. 

"Shit, I know. Just get to Sean, I'll see what's happenin' up front!" Arthur hollers, bracing himself as he jumps onto the next train car. 

"Star?" Arthur yells, and you turn around, "Don't get hurt." You nod, and with that he turns, running on the rapidly reversing train towards the engine.

You try to calm down your breathing as you run across the tops of the train cars, jumping as far as you can between each one. Your heart pounds rapidly in your ears, and the train accelerating is nothing but a background noise in your head. Revolver in hand, eventually you make it to the baggage car. 

"Sean you alive?" You yell, bracing yourself as you jump from the roof down onto the platform below. The land sends an ache through your knees, but you do land. 

"Yeah makin out real good down here!" Sean hollers back as you enter the caboose. 

"Why the hell are we in reverse?" Sean asks, stuffing a saddle bag full of cash and jewelry. You immediately get to helping him, ripping open the cupboards and stripping them of their content before shoving the precious items into Sean's bag. 

"I got no idea. Arthur n Charles are dealin' with it." You respond, glancing out the window and gasping when you see that you're nearing Flatneck Station. You've crossed the state line back into New Hanover, and in less than five minutes you'll be crossing over Bard's Crossing, the infamously high railroad bridge. 

"Oh my god, fuck." You curse, stuffing the bags even quicker. Shots ring out from the roof, and you gasp, neck snapping up. 

"That's gotta be Arthur or Charles." You gasp. You look down the train cars to see John pistol whip a man for not giving up his money. 

"Go help ‘em! I'm alright here for now!" Sean hollers, and you nod, running out of the car. Momentarily holstering your gun, you leap up onto the roof, pulling yourself up. Arthur is up there, shooting at a couple of men across the train as you run up to help him.

"You guys got the money?" He asks. 

"Yeah! Why ain't we stopped?!" You yell, shooting at the men, and clipping one in the neck. He falls off the train, and you wince as his body cracks against the quickly passing ground. Just then, Charles comes running across the cars, jumping over the gaps towards you. 

"Conductors dead! Doors locked and he fell on the reverse lever. I can't stop it." Charles explains, "We gotta go NOW, it's not stopping!" He yells, just as two more boys climb up onto the roof. 

"Rot in hell you bastards!" One yells, and you go to reload your revolver, but it's empty. You curse, looking ahead to where the caboose is barreling towards the bridge. 

A man climbs up from behind you, taking you by surprise as he knocks the gun from Arthur's hand. Arthur turns around and punches him right in the face, nose cracking as blood pours from his face. 

"Get off the train! I got this bastard!" Arthur yells, and you hyperventilate, glancing between him and the bridge. Sean and John have already jumped, and you see them riding alongside the train with Athena, Taima and Balius. Charles jumps down, just as Arthur kicks the man off the side of the train. He hits the ground with a sickening crack, and Arthur turns to you, no longer asking. 

"Star, go!" Arthur commands, and you gasp as another man comes up from the side of the train, pulling Arthur into a chokehold from behind.

"Get down here! We can't help him till you're out the way!" John screams up to you, and panicking, you leap. The jump is terrifying, and the land onto your saddle knocks the breath out of you. But then you're safe on Athena, barreling towards the cliffs edge where the bridge begins, waiting for Arthur to deal with the last guard. 

"Does anyone have a shot on him?" Sean yells, gun aimed up at the man who is fighting Arthur. Arthur's body is bigger than the man, and at the angle you're at, it's impossible to kill him without killing Arthur. Arthur struggles, elbowing the man in the gut to break free from his chokehold. 

"No!" John yells back. 

"Arthur!" You scream, though futile, watching as the train gets closer to the bridge. 

"I got this bastard." Arthur chokes out, coughing as he elbows the man enough to get away from his grip. You slide Athena into a stop to avoid running off a cliff as the train starts to go over the bridge. The wind howls in your ear from the elevation as you watch on in horror.

"What do we do!? John-" You whimper, feeling useless and helpless as Arthur punches the man, fists raised as they brawl atop the train. 

"He'll be okay. He will. He'll get down on the other side and we'll run over and get him." John replies. All you can do is watch as the train accelerates across the bridge, and you've never been so afraid in your life. Arthur takes a punch in the gut, leaving him vulnerable. 

"Does anyone have a shot!!?" Sean screams, gun raised. But Arthur is still in the way, and no one can help him, he's on his own.

Somehow the next moment happens in a lifetime, and a fraction of a second. Arthur takes a punch straight straight to the gut, and he doubles over, left vulnerable. The guard steadied himself, lifting his leg until the sole of his boot meets Arthur's stomach. The train is rolling right over the highest part of the bridge as the guard kicks out. Arthur stumbles, and the kick sends him falling over the side of the train. 

All the air leaves your lungs, your eyes go wide, and everything stops as Arthur falls. You're frozen, watching as Arthur falls down past the bridge. It's a high drop, too high. Your eyes go wide as Arthur's arms stretch up, attempting to grasp onto something that isn't there as he plummets two hundred feet down to the lake below.  

"No-" You breathe out, just barely a whisper as you stumble down from Athena, nearly falling from the saddle. 

"Arthur!-" John gasps.

"NO!-" You scream, breaths coming in quick, uncontrollable pants as tears fill your eyes and fall out in thick rivulets. You stumble to the ledge of the bridge, on the tracks, gripping the fence so tight that your knuckles turn white. 

The other three men are slack jawed, horrified. They all gasp, stunned beyond being capable to speak. When you look down, you see the rippling water where Arthur had landed, landed but not come back up.  

"NO!!" You sob, unable to hold back your tears as you fall back, hands never leaving the fence. Your cries are shoulder shaking, and you can't bring yourself to care that you are sobbing in front of the other men. 

"Get back to camp right now and don't get followed." John orders Charles and Sean, tears in his eyes that he quickly wipes away. They comply, silently nodding before turning their horses and galloping home, shell-shocked.

You're too stunned to notice what's going on around you, but your sobs have slowed, turned into aching, painful heaves as your nails dig into the fence, as if you holding on to it will pull Arthur back up to you. 

"Star?" John whispers, so quiet from behind you. You shake your head, knowing what he's going to ask of you. 

"Star, we gotta go. The law will be here soon." John tries to reason, fighting his own internal ache. You're not having it, not leaving, and John places his hands on your shoulders, begging you to come with him. You can't stop looking down at the rippling water, waiting for him to come back up, and tearing your eyes away when he doesn't, a vicious cycle. 

"W-we can't leave him John. What if he- what if he's down there and he needs help?" You cry, lungs aching. 

"I know. We won't. We won't leave him. But we can't help him if the law gets to us." He says, and you nod frantically, thinking over his idea. 

He tries to pull you backwards, away from the bridge. You make it two steps back before the anxiety of not seeing the water wins over and your body practically shies away from John. 

"I can't- I can't go, he…" You begin, biting your cheek until it bleeds, stuck in a state of shock that you can't shake. 

"John, what if he didnt-" You sob, unable to finish the sentence that plagues your mind along with the image of his plummet. 

"He did… Star I ain't goin back to camp missing two people, please come home." He pleads, turning as law whistles sound in the distance. 

"No. I can't." You say, stern in your choice. Because what is there to go back to without him? And what if he needs help?

"Where will you go?" He asks, glancing to the whistles in the distance. 

"I guess across the river so I-" your face crumbles at the idea, "so I can look for him." 

John nods, whistling lowly for Old Boy. The horse trots forward, and John quickly unwraps his camp kit from Old Boy's saddle before tightening it onto Athena's. 

"My camp kit. Take it, you'll need it." He turns to you then, red eyes looking into yours. "Be safe out here… and don't lose yourself. Arthurs my brother. But if he ain't back in a day or two, you gotta come home. He'd want that." John says, voice even raspier than usual as he deals with his emotion. You nod, tears filling your eyes as places his hand on your shoulder.

"If he comes back to camp I'll come for you right away." He offers, and you nod. 

And then he's mounting up, offering you a bittersweet tip of his hat as he rides away. And you're suddenly alone. There's no one here to pick up your broken pieces, so you pick them up yourself, climbing into the saddle and cantering away from the approaching law whistles. You don't try to stop the tears. Some are silent, sliding down your face and dripping into your saddle, but some are loud, and you have to leave go of the reins to sob into your hands. You make it to the other side of the river thanks to Athena, with Balius trotting beside you the entire way. No one tells you what to do when something like this happens. You're lost, left to figure it out as you operate like a shell of a human being, going through the motions to avoid the law. 

Once you're across the Dakota, situated just on the treeline close to the bank you slide down from your mare to sit in the grass, knees held up to your chin as you watch the water. You've never seen it so still. There's not a ripple other than the steady flow out to the lake. The law whistles get louder, and you listen for them as you numbly watch the water for hours, lost in your head. Eventually the law dissipates, giving up and going home.

You don't know if he's dead or not, but the chances of him being okay right now are bad. The bridge hangs over the horizon like a tyrant, a constant reminder of what's just happened. You try to avoid looking at it, try to avoid seeing the fall, the fear in his eyes as his feet left the train. 

You can't help but drift to the fact that your last real conversation was an argument, and you ache to go back in time and spend the day at his picnic like he'd planned. He was right about you. You're a hypocrite. All Arthur has done since you met him was offer kindness when you didn't deserve it. He gave and gave and you took and took. He told you his feelings time and again through his words and his actions. And you rejected him again and again. All because you were afraid. He said it when you went fishing with Jack, he said it when you danced at Sean's party and when you were drunk under the stars. Arthur told you he would wait. He would wait until you were ready. And here you are. It appears your time is up, and Arthur has waited all he can. 

You think back to that first night in Colter, what you'd told yourself that rang out to be true… good people die. 

Nothing happens for a long while. You don't move, and your limbs ache from your curled up position, but you don't care. You've been watching the water for hours to no avail, but then it happens. Something small washes up on the shore, something black. And as soon as your eyes flicker towards it your face crumples, and falls into your knees with a sob. 

"No, no, not him- please." You whimper to yourself quietly, realizing that he's really gone.

You wipe away your tears, finding the strength to stand up from the grass and pluck the object from the shoreline where it washed up. In your hand is an all too familiar black leather hat, wrapped with rope and adorned with a one of a kind hat ornament. 

You place it on the ground by your legs, curling in on yourself as the grief overtakes you, causing your body to ache and your lungs to burn from the sobs that erupt from them. 

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know

[rubyvhs]

remember? [ chapter two ]

SUMMARY. the girls finally meet up with sam & dean four years later TAGS. 2k words, violence, uses of pet names in a degrading manner. series masterlist.

"Hey, girls, how you holdin' up?" As Mel drives her beloved 69' Camaro convertible, the speakers of her car come to life with Bobby's voice. The wind whips through her hair, the sun shining down on her as she cruises down the open road. She can't help but smile as she remembers why she got this car in the first place - the freedom and joy that comes with driving a convertible. The experience is like no other, and she's grateful to be able to enjoy it in her own classic ride.

"Doin' fine, Bobby. You?" she asks, hoping to convey her sincere interest in his well-being. Despite the sweetness of her tone, they both know that things aren't going well for either of them right now.

"Just peachy," he scoffs.

"Oh yeah?" She teases since it's the only thing she can do. Bobby's not a 'let's talk it out' kind of guy. She respects that.

"Yeah, idiots, quit worrying. Where you headed to?"

The younger one quickly steps in, "Check outside, old man."

Both girls smile at each other, quickly checking their back pockets through the leather of their jackets, and walk to the door.

"Hey, girls." Bobby half smiles as the door flies open, greeting each girl with a hug. "I've got company, but come in." They look at him with a strained smile. They truly loved Bobby with everything they had, but they needed to do this.

"I'm sorry, Bobby." Mary whispers and just as he's about to ask what's wrong, she takes the hand he had on her shoulder and forces them into handcuffs. His eyes widen but before he can yell for the two boys, Melissa slams a syringe full of a sedative into his arm.

The brunette slowly lets Bobby rest on the ground as she closes the door behind her and Melissa makes her way over to the living room to greet the Winchesters, but when she steps inside and it's empty, she halts in her movement, "Hello, boys." She smiles as she feels a shotgun to her head.

"Who are you, what have you done to Bobby?"

"Nothin'," she smiles sweetly but Dean doesn't seem satisfied because he pulls the trigger, not a single trace of amusement on his face, though the same can’t be said for Mel, "I don't know why you've got your panties in such a twist," she scoffs, voice still dripping with honey, "we love the old man, we'd never hurt him. It's just something to knock him out while we talk."

"Yeah? Well, talk." Dean's voice is, in Melissa's words, smokey, almost throaty, and sure, it’s hot but she's far from admitting it.

"I'm sorry, mister, but I don't usually talk with a shotgun to my head." Amid the chaos Dean had forgotten to tell her to keep her hands up as the hand on the opposite side from where he was standing reached into her back pocket for her knife and she pressed it to his throat.

"Hi, gorgeous. I'm gonna excuse your poor welcome on the fact that it's seven in the mornin', but we're gonna need you to cooperate now."

"Who the hell is 'we'?" Dean warned, apparently not getting the memo that he was the one being attacked.

"Me." Mary walks into the living holding Sam's hands behind his back. "I was just fetching a little souvenir."

"So," Mel muses, "now that we have that out of the way, let's all put our weapons down." She snatches the handgun from Dean and lets the ammo fall to the ground, throwing the gun even further.

She looks at Mary for confirmation and both nod, putting their weapons in their back pockets. The boys let out a sigh of relief.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Mary and Melissa Rhodes." The boys stare at them, waiting for further explanation.

But it clicks for Sam. "Wait, Rhodes? Like Carly and Loren Rhodes? Are you their—"

"They were our parents." Mary cuts him off, an edge to her voice Dean didn't seem to like. Mel didn't like the way the older hunter was looking at her sister so she took a step towards him so they were face to face, too close almost.

"You need to calm down. We have the guns here, we're the ones with the upper hand, you don't get to look at her like that. Not when you already killed our parents." Dean suddenly looks confused, walking back with his hands up in defeat.

"We didn't kill your parents, lady." Sam glares at him, then looks at Melissa with sympathetic eyes.

"We're sorry for your loss, truly. Our dad was at the funeral but we couldn't make it." Mel scoffs, a small laugh coming out as she puts a hand in her back pocket, probably to take out her knife but Mary quickly steps in to tell her to calm the hell down.

"Thank you, Sam, unfortunately, your adorable faces and pretty words don't make up for the fact that you did kill our parents. Chicago, August of 2007."

Sam seems to remember as he recalls the memory, "Right, we were working the demon case and we found a couple of other hunters, remember?" He asks his brother.

"Not ringing any bells." Melissa is nothing if not a hot-headed woman and she is certainly not above killing humans if they annoy the living hell out of her. So she does the obvious, throws Dean against the wall, her arm around his neck. Sam jolts towards his brother but the younger sister tsk's and holds his arm back.

"You're gonna be real respectful, Dean, you got that? We're not talking about a couple of vampires here, I'm asking about my parents, shut up and listen." He nods once and when she lets him go he pants looking at his brother with a this bitch is crazy look.

"Anyway," Sam continues, "we were on the hunt and there were more demons than we anticipated. We all ran out of there and we said we'd regroup the day after but they never showed up. They said they had an emergency with their daughters."

Mel furrows her brow in confusion and blurts out, "That can't be." Dean's gaze immediately darts towards his gun, which lies on the floor, and his blade is still tucked away in his boots, too far to reach in time. Mel notices, "Don't think about it, man."

"Yeah, well now you know we didn't kill them so—"

"Let's practice that respect I was talking about—"

"I'll be respectful when you and your girlfriend—"

"Sister, you asshole." They're both throwing insult after insult, comeback after comeback, and while Sam now has the opportunity to snatch his blade from his back pocket, he doesn't feel the need to, instead he watches the exchange.

"Only one of us is the asshole for holding two strangers hostage."

"You think you're tough? Mary slices through an inch of Sam's skin and you'll be screaming like a little girl." Her taunting makes Sam more aware, his hands slowly moving towards his back pocket but the brunette stops him, twisting his arm and he groans.

"Hey, you bitch!" Dean yells, but it falls on deaf ears and she goes a little harder, mostly because he tried something, but partially because she wants justice for her parents, and she isn't letting up.

"You keep your hands where I can see them, handsome." Her taunting proves to be much much worse than Melissa's and it makes the older sister proud. Dean though, he's this close to punching a girl and he isn't proud of it. A hunter nonetheless.

"Listen, sweetheart," With a scowl on his face, he confronts Mel, "I don't think I've ever hit a girl, but you will gladly be the first if you don't get the hell out of here."

"Big talk for someone who hasn't even checked whether or not me and my sister are human. I don't know what kind of hunters you are, but not the smart kind, I'll tell you that."

"That's enough," Sam tries, "we don't know what happened to your parents, they left before we saw them and that's the only time we've ever seen them. Ask Bobby."

"I'm sorry it came to this, Sam. I really liked you, but you already saw our faces, I hardly think Dean would let this go, right?" Dean almost growls at her, his face scrunched up and damn near breaking.

"We don't care, we don't kill people, of course we'll let it go."

"That might be the deal with you, but your brother's more than happy to take our heads. Besides, I'd feel infinitely better if you guys were dead anyway, principle and all. We've been doing our research the last couple of years and it turns out that what happened was that you left my mother behind with those demons while you dragged my dad out. The next day he also died while you guys defeated the demons. Which— great for you, I'm sure you did lots of people a solid, but I'm not so certain I care. My parents have hunted with a plethora of hunters, some of the dumbest being on that list and no one has ever left them for dead, why did you think you could, huh?

"This whole, I'll protect you till the end of time bullshit you spew to each other, do you ever think that maybe you're hurting other people? You stopped Sam from locking every demon into hell. Every single demon! Do you know how many hunters would still be alive if you hadn't done that? Do you know how stupidly selfish you both are?"

Both men seem to have forgotten how to use their words, only looking at each other. After their silent conversation, Dean jumps into action, punching Melissa harshly so she loses consciousness. Mary screams when Dean knocks her sister out but quickly notices Sam's attempt at doing the same to her. She dodges it and punches him square in the face, and because he didn't expect it, the tall Winchester falls onto the floor and Mary picks him up to hold a blade to his throat.

"Stay back, pretty boy." She tells Dean, pressing it closer to his skin. He wants to ask how her grip is as tight as it is because he's twice her size but losing air faster than he ever has before.

"Hey, listen," Dean says slowly, walking towards him but when she takes a warning step back and almost draws blood, he stops. "I just wanted a conversation without your sister. Can we talk? Without the weapons. We don't even have ours." Mary considers it for a moment before looking down at the man whose neck she's holding.

"No, thanks. Dumah, get down here please!" Someone suddenly appears in the middle of the room. An angel, the boys recognize, though they don't know who.

"Yes, love." He takes a look around and begins to understand the situation. "Ah, Sam and Dean, I've heard a lot about you."

"All scary, I hope." Dean says with a slight smirk though he only does it to hide the fact that he's praying too. If angels came out to play, he has one up his sleeve too.

"None of the sort. All of Castiel's stories, who you're praying to right now, are wonderful. Castiel is taking care of an issue upstairs so I don't believe he'll be here. In the meantime, let's go somewhere."

And the Winchesters see is black.

tags. @therealabadoodle @naylanae-0308