#i came in too late to vote but i had to sit down for a moment when i saw how many of these i recognized

[toji-girl]

pick up | s. gojo

wc: 1.3k

tags: 18+ only - mdni + plug! fem reader + explicit smut + weed + frat boy! gojo + modern au + shot gunning + dubcon + car sex + fingering + pussy eating + handjob + teasing + creampie + nipple play + maybe a part two or something like a series I had fun writing this + reader is a little bitchy + thanks to everyone who voted 🫶🏻

Incoming Message: Satoru G.

1:18 a.m: can u get me a bag and a j? iou (´♡ヮ♡`)

As soon as it came in you turned your TV off then pulled on a robe covering your silk pajamas and stuffed your feet in your slippers grabbing everything needed before making your way to your car.

"Are you kidding me?" You mumbled looking at the text message from Satoru that sat as read while you waited for a response growing irritated that he was making you sit there in the parking lot for him.

It was nearing two now.

Your manicured nails tapped along your phone screen changing the song and rolling your eyes when there was still no text, you put it down sure it wasn't going to go off soon, and began to roll his joint.

Two pink ones because Satoru was always sure to eat your pussy for good measure and as much as you hated to admit he was the best to ever go down on you so you always threw in a freebie, for the sex too.

The third one was your own that you lit sucking in the smoke and letting it saturate your lungs for a moment before exhaling it in a white puff leaning the car seat back and humming to the song softly.

After it ended your phone lit up with a phone call.

You looked at it annoyed that it was an hour after he sent that, waiting until the last minute you hit the green button and clicked the speaker button. "You're an hour late. I hate that Gojo." You huffed.

In the background you could hear a loud party, and given that it was a Saturday it made sense for him to be late. "I know, I'm on my way now. Wait for me sweet girl." He purred, the music and people fading.

"I told you not to call me that, just hurry up because not all of us are partying away our education." You snapped and hung up hating the way the pet name made your belly break out in flutters of butterflies.

Fifteen minutes later Satoru's sleek car pulled up next to yours and a moment later he was sitting next to you, the smell of his cologne mixing in with the weed made your mouth water. "You waited for me."

The joint you rolled was halfway gone already and instead of answering him you gave it to him and changed the song. "Because you owe me, remember?" You replied with a shrug of your shoulders.

Satoru smiled smugly and reclined his seat tucking one hand behind his head, his white hair looked soft under the glow of the moon that shone down from your sunroof as your eyes followed the hair that peeked from his shirt that hiked up when he shifted taking a hit.

"I do. You're so good to me." He teased catching your look as he sat up to lean in sliding his hand to the back of your neck and leaning in to kiss you blowing the smoke in your mouth, his tongue dancing along with yours while his free hand untied the front of your robe.

Your hands buried into his hair tugging him closer with a soft moan before you pulled away to take the joint from him. "Before you drop it, and you are something else." You shot back ashing the rest of it.

He watched you and let his hands trail down the front of your chest until his long slender fingers reached the buttons of your shirt. "Is that why you answered my text at one in the morning?" He hummed.

Silence blanketed the cabin of your car as you watched him until your pj top hung open baring your breasts to him. "It was the heart eyes that did it for me but also the money is something I enjoy too." You replied trying to pretend that he didn't have a strong hold over you.

Satoru laughed softly.

"Don't pretend like you knew it wasn't going to end like this." He purred leaning in and brushing his lips against the column of your neck igniting the nerves that sparked like tiny fireworks.

While his mouth descended down your chest you let your hands reach over to rub his bulge over the soft fabric of his sweats before sliding under the band of his boxers feeling the soft pubic hair.

He wrapped his lips around your nipple suckling with precision making your back bow pushing more of your breast into his mouth that he cupped, his other hand tweaked your free nipple gently.

The weed had your body feeling pliant like clay that Satoru easily molded to his own liking. "I like you when you're bitchy but I also like you docile for me, so easy to mold however I want." He husked.

His voice was dark when he pulled away from your nipple, a string of salvia bridging from the bud to his swollen lips, blue eyes stared back at you with low lids, just like you, he felt hazy and high as hell.

Slowly his fingertips trailed under the band of your pj shorts, white eyebrows shot up when he felt no panties stopping him from rubbing your pussy spreading your slick that was warm and very sticky.

Your jaw went slack when he pressed his finger into your clit before tracing the soft opening of your pussy barely pushing in all the while your hand wrapped around the shaft of his dick jerking him off.

The both of you used your free hand to roam across each other's bodies while your mouth met in another heated kiss, his tongue stroked against yours before he began sucking softly with a moan.

Pre-slick pooled at the tip of his dick adding a little bit of lubrication to the action, the shlick-shlick sound roared in his ear as he added another finger inside you curling and rubbing just the right spot.

It didn't take long for the both of you to move to the backseat with you straddling Satoru, his sweats and boxers pushed down mid-thigh as you rubbed the head between your pussylips teasingly watching him with a smirk. His head rested against the seat staring back.

"You're so pretty." He whispered cupping your cheek before tracing your lips with his thumb letting it slip between them and watching you suck it as you sunk down on him slowly until he bottomed out.

Pretty crystal blue eyes rolled to the back of his head feeling your pussy choke him in a velvet heat that dripped down his shaft and sack making a mess on the leather as you sat still huffing softly.

His hands rested on your hips helping you ride him before moving to your tits, rolling your pert nipples between long fingers as you pressed your palms to the ceiling of the car fucking yourself on him.

Satoru moaned so prettily, soft pants and grunts as you bounced up and down feeling the band in your belly fray until it snapped, your climax coming a lot sooner than usual as you sat down all the way.

He looked down to where you two met thankful you slipped your shorts and panties came off when you moved letting him get a good view of him buried deep inside your gaping cunt that clenched around him tightly making him gasp as you started to move again.

There were no words able to be spoken as you rode out your high drowning Satoru in it as he came in hot thick spurts filling you and creating a sticky mess that almost frothed between your bouncing.

When you finally slowed down you nuzzled your sweaty face into his neck kissing it softly while he massaged your back keeping you close to him riding out both of his highs while kissing you softly.

#tw: weed #tw: dubcon #my pussy wrote this entire thing btw #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru smut #Satoru Gojo smut #jjk x reader smut w #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #Satoru smut #Gojo smut #gojo x you smut #Satoru x you smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #Satoru Gojo x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you

[turtletaubwrites]

A Good Catch ~ Part 3

This was part of my 600 Follower Celebration and I can't thank you enough for all the support. I was glad y'all voted for Shanks... until I wrote this!! It was supposed to be the end. But I wanted them to have more sex. And that led to more fluff, and that led to... Anyways, I know what the end will be, but I'm not going to embarrass myself again by saying it'll be the next chapter. 😅 I have been consumed by this story, and I really hope you enjoy it!!

Pairings: Shanks x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4613

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 (End)

Ao3 Link

Summary: Your unplanned vacation is filled with more than just the pleasure of a certain pirate's touch. Turns out that pirates and fishermen share a love of stories.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, Flirting, Alcohol, Hair Pulling, Penis in Vagina Sex, Unprotected Sex, (Be safe out there), Birth Control, Pet Names, Rough Oral Sex, Face-Sitting, Outdoor Sex, (Very Mild Exhibitionism), Porn with Feelings, Aftercare

A/N: I need help

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

“Thanks for takin’ pity on our captain.”

“None of that, Lucky Roux,” Shanks scolded, grabbing the bowl of food the man had set down on that dingy table by the fire. 

Sunset was on its way, and your stomachs had dragged you reluctantly out of his bed, only to be greeted at the camp by the loudest, and rowdiest cheers you’d ever heard. 

Shanks had gotten them to tone it down a bit, kissing your burning cheeks as you sat at his table, but it seemed that Lucky Roux had started it up again.

“He’s right,” Benn agreed, raising his mug to you. “I don’t think we would have survived another night of that.” 

“Isn’t Y/N just beautiful? Isn’t she–,” another pirate called in a sing-song voice as he mimicked his captain, and your mouth fell open as the whole crew joined in. Shanks started blustering, trying to rein it in, but it was too late. 

“Did you hear how funny she is?”

“And she's soo fiery, did you see her?”

“I was drunk! I was out of my wits,” Shanks yelled over the din while you sat back and laughed. 

“I will personally murder each and every one of you!”

He gave up, taking a long drink from his mug while you studied his profile. When he finally looked at you, you couldn’t fight the evil grin on your face.

“Fiery, huh?”

“Alcohol does a lot of things to the mind, and–”

“Are you blushing, captain?”

Your red haired pirate didn’t allow you to lean close to find out before he pulled you to him, kissing you hard. You felt his low hum of approval at the tiny noises you made for him, but it was all drowned out by another round of applause.

“I'm gonna need more booze for this,” he grumbled, waving his now empty mug in the air until a pirate came to fill it.

“Fiery,” you asked again, whispering in his ear before chuckling as he choked on his drink. 

“Yeah, well,” he wiped his chin, turning to smirk at you, “I’m pretty sure you like me too, damsel.”

He looked way too pleased with himself as you bit your lip, digging into your food to keep from squirming.

You thought he might steal you away back to his quarters as soon as your bowls were cleared. Instead, he pulled you onto his lap as you spent time with his crew. So many smiling faces, so many stories, so many songs. It seemed like the whole crew took turns joining your table, and tapping their mugs against yours as they introduced themselves. 

Now that you didn’t think they were going to attack you in your sleep, you’d decided to drink whatever it was they put in your mug. 

But after toasting with so many pirates in a row, you were starting to feel it. 

“Mm, Shanks…”

"Mhm," he purred back at you as you nuzzled against his ear. 

“I think I’m drunk.”

“Well,” he started, leaving a warm kiss on your forehead, “what does my drunken damsel nee–”

He leaned forward with a wicked chuckle that told you he’d be getting back at you for what you’d just done. You had grinded your ass into his lap, and he was already growing hard again. That sensation had your head lolling back until he sat you up straight on his knee, his arm around your shoulders.

“So you’re demanding and greedy, huh?”

There was no point in arguing as his eyes poured over you, hungrily taking in your ragged breathing, your bitten lip, and the needy look in your eyes. 

You watched as he wet his lips, his eyes growing darker even as the light of the fire shined within them.

Nodding as he mouthed the question ‘ready for bed,’ you held onto him, only a bit wobbly as you made your way through the crowd. The shouts of the crew were hardly noticeable with his hand in yours, his thumb smoothing over your skin. 

The moon was even closer to being full tonight, and its light dancing on the ocean made you pause after you stepped on deck. 

“I haven’t stopped to look for awhile,” you confessed as he brushed your hair out of your face.

“Look at what?”

A surprised laugh bubbled from you as you gestured to the moonlit waves.

“Anything!”

A wave of energy and pleasure rolled over you, and you threw your head back to let out a joyful yell.

“It’s beautiful,” you screamed at the moon. “And look at the waves, they’re so…”

Your joy in this moment felt so freeing, but it broke your heart to realize just how stifled you’d been. To not remember the last time you relaxed, the last time you looked at something just because it felt good. 

Shanks caught your hand as the heat of tears rose in your throat. His hair seemed to glow under the silver light, and you didn’t think you’d ever met someone as beautiful as him.

“You’re beautiful too, Y/N,” he rasped, pressing your knuckles to his lips. 

“Don’t you mean, ‘fiery,” you laughed in his face, stomach starting to hurt as giggles took over. 

He sucked his teeth, narrowing his eyes at you as he dropped your hand. 

“You won’t be so fiery after this.”

Shanks twisted his fist into the back of the shirt you’d borrowed, and dragged you, kicking and screaming, to the edge of the ship. Toward those beautiful waves.

Happy, drunken fingers tore at the buttons of the loose shirt until you pulled yourself free, cackling as you held your hands to your bare breasts, and ran inside.

“Y/N,” Shanks shouted, as the pirate on night duty started rolling with laughter. 

You had never had this much fun in your life.

Those wood paneled halls all looked the same, so instead of looking for his quarters, you just kept running.

The chase didn’t last long before he shoved you against a wall, his knee spreading your legs as your chest heaved. He dropped the shirt to the ground to push your hand aside, massaging your exposed breast as he kissed you. 

It was more than kissing. Drinking, eating, taking. 

His thumb brushed over your nipple, already hardened from your flight through the ship. He timed the sensation with his knee pressing against your clothed cunt, and you felt his smile on your own lips as you cried out. 

“You’re lucky you’re not a member of my crew, Y/N,” he rasped in your ear, low and dangerous. “This kind of spectacle would have earned you quite the punishment.”

His heat left you as he grabbed the shirt off the ground, holding it up silently until you pulled it on. There was something about him now that you hadn’t felt before. It wasn’t frightening. 

But it was powerful. Commanding.

It had you melting under those dark eyes. 

“Are you ready for bed, sweetheart?”

All you could do was nod, letting him guide you by the hand until he had you spread on those red sheets again. 

Until he had you screaming his name, begging him to fill you up, to leave you dripping. 

Still not enough. 

He’d kissed his way across your body, pulling you close as his breath went deep and slow with sleep. Once again, this pirate reminded you of the sea, his touch both gentle and chaotic, his voice both soothing and seductive. 

Last night you had such conflicting thoughts about him. Tonight his arm was curled around you, his spicy scent more intoxicating than whatever they’d poured in your mug. Tonight your thoughts all matched up.

He’s wonderful.

I’ll never get enough of his smile, his voice, his touch.

I’ve never felt happier than I have with him today.

He’s leaving in a couple days, and I’ll never see him again. 

~

“Don’t you trust me by now, beautiful?”

He couldn’t see your small smile as you secured the blindfold over his eyes. 

“Don't you trust me,” you teased, tugging the fabric further down his nose.

“You do have a history of attacking me unprovoked–,” he laughed, holding his hand up to stop your retort. “I just wanna see your pretty face.”

Pressing a kiss to his pouting lips, you made your way down the bed. 

“Guess you’ll have to learn to be patient.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but let out a sigh instead as you started tracing your fingers over his skin, giving him the same attention he kept giving you. As if each part of you was precious to him, and he wanted to savor every bit.

Savor. I want to savor this. 

So you did. Everything left your mind except for this moment. The way it used to when you still loved to fish. 

Shanks had helped you remember how to enjoy life.

You wanted to pay him back.

“F-Fuck, Y/N…”

His red hair fell back against the headboard as you sucked the tip of his leaking cock into your mouth. He fisted the sheets, your name and breathy curses still falling from his lips.

Your mouth and fingers had already teased his whole body until he was twitching, so you didn’t waste time with teasing now. With one hand sliding along his shaft, and the other massaging his heavy balls, you circled your tongue around his tip until spit slid down his length.

“Please, Y/N, let me take this off. Let me see you.”

“Not yet,” you breathed, before you forced your way further down.

“Fuck, please,” he begged, drawing out the words as he moaned. “I need to see your face, I need you, please.”

His shaking, desperate body, and his continued pleas to see you froze you for a moment, your mouth still around his tip.

“Please, I need to see you. Fuuckk, I need you, ple–”

“Take it off.”

This was the face you would never forget. 

He looked almost pained when he took it off, his brows furrowed, and his jaw clenched. Then the eyes that met yours looked frantic, almost feral as heavy breaths came from his parted lips. 

He touched your jaw, lifting your face as spit trailed from your mouth to his swollen tip. 

“I don’t wanna stop looking at you again.”

Chills ran over your skin as you whimpered, your hands clenching on him until he moaned. He let you go, but you were too stunned to move, your hands pausing their task. 

He didn’t beg you to continue. He didn’t tease you. He didn’t say a word.

Shanks just stared at you, a hint of a smile on those lips.

Until a low growl filled the room, breaking the spell.

“Does my damsel need breakfast,” he teased softly.

You answered by taking his cock down your throat, relaxing as you pushed yourself further. 

“Oh my– fuck! How are you…”

All the filthy, needy sounds he gave you spurred you on. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, until you forced them open, forcing yourself to meet his hungry gaze. 

You still hadn’t taken in all of him, but the slide of his thick veins along your tongue told you that you might not have time. 

So you pushed further, moaning around him when he wrapped his fingers into your hair. Tears were already prickling in your eyes when you gave him a nod, bracing yourself on his hips. Letting him take control.

“Gods, you’re fucking perfect, sweetheart. So beautiful taking my cock down your throat. I need you so fucking bad–”

Breathing through your nose and hanging on, the feel of him pushing so deep while he watched your face, while he praised and moaned for you… It was all so much, your own body twisting in on itself with need. It felt like you might come without a single touch. 

“So good for me, baby. Take my come for me–”

Unrestrained groans tore from him as he twitched, his hand forcing you down. You cried on his cock as hot ropes of come spilled down your throat, so hot, so fucking much. 

Your mind was empty of everything except for swallowing every last drop. After he’d emptied himself in you, he lifted you gently, letting out a pleased hum as he watched you lick your lips, and drink it all in. 

“Mm, my damsel,” he purred as he kissed your neck, “my darling. Do you wanna have breakfast before or after I drown in your pussy?”

Your stomach could wait. 

After a few minutes of water and rest so you could relearn how to breathe, Shanks worshiped your body again, leaving you tingling, giggling at his soft touches. 

“Come here, sweetheart. Let me taste you.”

Shaky knees held you up as your nails dug into the headboard. You leaned your forehead against the wall as Shanks’ tongue dragged through your folds as if looking for treasure.

And he found treasure, sucking your clit until you chanted his name.

“Relax,” he rasped, tugging on your hip, “I need my pretty girl to sit on my face.”

You had looked down into those devilish eyes, and his words alone had you crying out. 

“But–”

“I’m a pirate, sweetheart. I can hold my breath a long time if I need to.”

His wink tore a laugh from you, and you wanted to poke him for it, but he managed to yank you down with his one hand, his strength making you gasp before his tongue did. 

He rocked your hip back and forth until you followed his movement, grinding your needy cunt across his face. He moaned into your sensitive skin, and you made sounds you didn’t know you could make. 

“Shaaanks, feels so good.”

Every moan, every word you gave him seemed to set him on fire, his tongue exploring so deep when it wasn’t attacking your clit. Rubbing yourself back and forth felt unreal, his mouth and nose driving you mad.

“Please, fuck… I’m gonna come, Shanks.”

You tried to pull away, but he wrapped his arm around your thigh, pressing down across your hips so hard, adding to the pressure.

The screams you let out were so loud, the whole camp had to have heard you. You fell forward and gripped your fingers in his hair, only able to watch those dark eyes for a second before you came in his mouth.

Shanks didn’t stop, he kept moaning, playing, drinking you in until you slumped against the headboard, and begged him to stop. 

“Mm, you look a little distressed,” he rasped in your ear. “How’s my damsel doing?”

He caught your hand as you tried to slap his chest, your limbs weak and useless.

“My girl’s still fiery after all that,” he laughed, kissing the inside of your wrist. “Want me to order us breakfast in bed?”

~

“Where did you grow up?”

It seemed you wouldn’t be leaving the bed at all today, lounging in messy sheets as you held each other. Laughing, humming with pleasure, sitting in the most comfortable silence you’d ever felt. 

Until you started asking questions. 

“You’re lookin’ at it,” he gestured vaguely, bringing a frown to your lips.

“Could you be a bit more specific? I don’t think you grew up in these quarters.”

Shanks let out a sigh, rolling to see your face better.

“I grew up on a pirate ship. Always been a pirate.”

“Literally? Or is this some pirate showboating shi–”

“Literally,” he laughed, his grin making you squirm, almost forgetting your goal. 

“Well, you’ve heard my whole life story,” you drawled, lightly poking his chest. “I’d like to hear something about the drunken pirate that took me hostage.”

“It’s a vacation,” he teased, leaving kisses on your neck until you squealed.

He gave you a satisfied look as your skin flushed, before tapping the tip of your nose.

“You really haven’t heard of me?”

“Should I have? I don’t really pay attention to gossip. The news seems so far away from this shitty island.”

Tilting his head, he gestured to himself, puffing up his chest.

“Red Haired Shanks?”

“… Well, that is how I would describe you,” you deadpanned, trying not to laugh. 

Another heavy sigh left him as he stood, and you admired the sight of his toned body as he headed toward the desk. He laughed at the mess he’d made emptying the drawers last night before he picked up the little stone, and tossed it to you. 

He winked when you caught it, rolling it around in your hands while you watched him pull out a piece of paper.

Staring at it for a minute, Shanks turned back to you, looking more serious than you’d ever seen him.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” he said softly, walking toward you as you sat up in the bed. “I have to show you something, and I don’t want you to be scared.”

Sitting beside you, he caught your eyes, holding your gaze as if you’d disappear if he looked away. 

You didn’t think anything about him could scare you anymore until this moment. 

“What is it,” you choked out, hoping you weren’t about to lose this perfect feeling with him.

He quirked his lips as he looked down, the crinkling of paper the only sound as he laid it on your lap.

“Wow, you look…”

Shanks’ gorgeous face had distracted you. You knew he was a pirate. Of course he would have a bounty on him. But…

“4,048,900,900 berries?”

It felt like your eyes almost popped out of your skull as you shrieked, smacking his chest while he gave a sheepish grin.

“Looks like you’ve got expensive taste?”

“What the fuck, Shanks?”

Shoving the bounty poster at him, a headache started to form as your mind failed to comprehend a thing.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he soothed, stopping himself as he reached out to touch your shoulder. “I’m still just me. Your handsome, drunken pirate, okay?”

You stared at him dumbly as he chewed on his lip, and you were present enough to see the worry in his eyes.

“You’re still safe with me, Y/N. You’re still safe here. I would never hurt you.”

He stopped himself again as he reached for your face, his breath catching when you took his hand in yours.

“I know,” you whispered, holding his hand against your cheek. “I know I’m safe with you.”

A smile of relief broke across his face as he leaned in. You stopped his lips with your fingers, and narrowed your eyes at him, watching his go wide.

“Now you owe me some stories.”

His laugh was like music, and you gasped as you let him fall upon you, letting this pirate taste you, his kiss full of desperate, infectious joy. 

“You have heard of the king of the pirates, right?”

~

“I’ve never met anyone who’s lived more stories than grandma.”

“Your grandma sounds like an amazing woman. What kind of stories did she live,” Shanks asked as he walked his fingers along your skin.

“Well, the thing about fisherman,” you laughed, stretching your arms above your head, “is that you never know which stories are true or not.”

You tapped his nose as his eyes fucking sparkled at you.

“You keep telling me that lying is bad for the soul, but lying for a good story is what makes a true fisherwoman.”

Shanks beamed at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Do you think any of her stories were true?”

Countless hours beside her, just waiting for a bite, flooded your mind. Those were times you treasured, before you grew to feel ashamed, and frustrated with your lot in life.

Those were times that felt magical, like every possibility was free for you to grasp.

“I'd like to think so,” you mused, seeing her playful grin in your mind, “but I’m pretty sure she was a pirate if they were.”

He let you taste his smile as he kissed you, and you’d never tasted anything better.

-

The two of you finally left his quarters for dinner, his warm arm and cloak wrapped around you as you were met with more cheers at the camp. 

“Listen up, crew,” Shanks shouted as he stood, his drink held high. “Our fisherwoman has tales to tell of her grandma the pirate, so let’s gather round. Let’s toast to the woman who taught our fiery damsel how to live!”

Tugging at him was useless as the crew gathered around the fire, their raucous cheers dying down as they waited. 

You were frozen, caught in dread and embarrassment until they called for you.

“Come on, fisherwoman! Let us hear it.”

“Tell us a story, Y/N!”

Shanks rubbed along your spine before taking your hand. You held the stone in the other, and let her stories pour out.

You’d never had anyone to share them with before, and it felt like home. Their reactions, their laughs, and questions, all of it spurred you on. The way they’d cheer and toast over triumphs, and curse over misfortunes, filled you with pride.

“That’s Skypiea, “Yassop called out, amidst a wave of affirmations.

“What’s that,” you questioned, this being the first real interruption of the night. 

“That island,” Benn explained, “we’ve been there before.”

“Don’t fuck with me. That’s stupid, I know she made this one up,” you argued, annoyed with the lies on their faces. “An island in the sky? Come on.”

Shanks squeezed your hand until you looked at him. 

“It’s true,” he swore, eyes heavy with it. “You’re the only one who’s allowed to lie on this crew.”

“But…”

“She must have been a great pirate if she made it to Skypiea,” Lucky Roux chimed in. “What was her name?”

None of them recognized it, and you tried to put the idea to rest.

“If she was a great pirate who settled down with a kid, she probably changed her name,” Benn stated, as if it were fact.

“No. That’s crazy…”

“To the great fisherwoman pirate,” Shanks toasted, with what sounded like reverence. “May her stories live on.”

You drank to the calls of ‘hear hear,’ and her untrustworthy name being shouted at the finally full moon. 

“Well, she did cuss like a sailor,” you whispered, still dissociating after Shanks had pulled you onto his lap. He laughed, kissing the top of your head before he whispered back.

“Wanna take a walk with me?”

“Mhm.”

Everything was so bright, the moonlight making the world feel even more surreal. 

This man I’ve been drowning in is an Emperor of the Sea. 

And grandma's stories might really be true...

You’d been too lost in thought to notice where he’d taken you, until he helped you climb onto the smooth rock by the tide pools. 

Careful not to slip, he guided you around to a relatively dry spot, far enough away to be untouched by the tide this early in the night.

“How are you feeling?”

He touched your chin as you sat down, bringing a small gasp to your lips when you saw his shining face, lit like some mythical creature under this heavenly sky.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, genuinely searching yourself for the answer. “I think I’m good. It’s just a lot.”

His slow smile caught you again, and the knowledge that your time was short shook you, making you reach for him too.

Falling into a hug, you breathed in the scent of him.

I wish this never had to end.

“You sure you’re alright,” he checked in, smoothing his hand over your back as you buried your face in his chest. 

“Kiss me.”

Your whispered command took your breath as his lips met yours. The gentlest of touches, the sweetness he poured into you, made it even harder not to let bittersweet tears fall.

One more day. I have another perfect day with him. Don’t ruin it. 

Your hands curled into his hair, and you whimpered with need as he let you push him onto his back. 

Shanks met your desperate need, grinding up against you as you straddled him, drinking your moans as your tongues danced together. Chaos, the crashing waves getting closer. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, watching you stand to strip under that silver light, tugging his pants down so that you could feel him again.

You needed to feel him again.

“Y/N, you’re incredible. I…”

The full moon lit your skin, but not as much as his gaze did. Those dark eyes left you on fire as you rode his perfect cock to the sound of the tide, his rough hand making you shake as he smoothed along your hips, your stomach, your chest. 

“You make me feel so good,” you moaned, still fighting off the bitter from the sweet. “I’ve never felt so—“

Shanks found leverage against the stone, making you cry out as he thrusted up into you, forcing you to steady yourself with your hands on his chest.

“Fuck, I could stay inside you forever, sweetheart. Your perfect pussy sucks me in so well— Mm fuck, yes, baby.”

Falling forward, you moaned against his skin as you came. He kept fucking up into you until you screamed his name.

“Making yourself come on my cock,” he soothed, stroking your hair as his rhythm slowed, but never stopped. “My girl is so good, so good for me.”

His praise brought whimpers from your lips until he pushed himself up, kissing your neck as you sat in his lap, still holding his heat inside you. 

“Will you help me spread out the clothes, beautiful? I need you— I need to watch you under the moon like this. Please, damsel, let me…”

You both moaned as you pulled yourself off of him, crawling to the pile of clothes to spread them out. He finished stripping, helping you lay down with a makeshift pillow.

Your fingers wrapped around his length, guiding him to your entrance as his eyes burned into yours. Leaning his weight on his elbow beside you, Shanks’ powerful body started to pump into you, filling you, stretching you. 

Slowly, but so deep it made your eyes roll back. 

“Look at me, please.” 

His words were barely a whisper, barely loud enough to hear over the waves. But you heard his plea, your fingers digging into his skin as you studied his face. 

It hurt. You fought to let it be joy. But the intensity, the need, the awe that seemed to flow from him was too much. 

Because it seemed to match yours, and you couldn't risk believing it.

Timing your breath with the waves, you let the bitter fade away. You let yourself be nothing at all, except for the lucky person making love to him under the light of the moon. The lucky person whose skin got to be seen, and touched, and tasted by this perfect pirate. This beautiful, sweet, intoxicating man. 

Neither of you spoke again. Just watched each other as you fell apart, and the only words given to the night were your names. 

Your bodies met that blissful moment together, like some pagan ritual. The bright sky bore witness to pure pleasure, pure connection. 

The magic seemed to last forever, your breathless bodies still melded together. Still together. 

Until bitter finally won, breaking the spell as salty tears slid down to meet the tide. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Mourning the loss of him as he left your body, you brushed those tears aside, and did what every fisherwoman knows how to do.

“I’m okay,” you breathed, smiling as you touched his cheek.

You lied. 

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Please save me, I am down a rabbit hole. Too far down, I think. Damn these "one shots," consuming my soul, making me fall in love. I don't know if I'll recover from this one.

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @nothing-but-brass | @honeyoru | @onlyseob | @constawrites | @gingernut1314 | @i-am-vita | @laurelthesimp | @therealsatorugojo | @jadeddangel

Part 4 (End)

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

#shanks x reader #red haired shanks #x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #one piece x reader #one piece fics #turtletaub fics #follower celebration #fic requests #mine #fluff #one piece fluff #shanks fluff #shanks fics #shanks smut #one piece smut #smut #use of y/n

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰

Yandere! Serial killer x reader pt 2

GN! Reader, Mentions of blood, Mentions of mutilation, Mentions of stalking. Part 1 is here part 3 is here. Read the note at the end plz, ty!

You’re joking.

Your Uber was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago! There’s no way you're taking the bus this late and staying here is already out of the question. You’re most definitely not spending another twenty dollars on another shammy lift either. As you contemplate your predicament, you can hear the aggressive typing of a phone's keyboard as Malika writes a strongly worded review.

“Dammit! What the hell’re we supposed to do now? There’s absolutely no way I’m staying here,” you’re all out of options, maybe the best thing is just to wait here until your school bus comes back.

“Are you crazy?! I’m not-“ you cut her off before she can finish. I mean, what else are you supposed to do? You guys aren’t willing to take any of the other options presented so, all you can do is sit and wait. Look on the bright side, you’ve waited almost a full year to be here; no guy should ruin it for you. She thinks long and hard about it before lighting up again.

“You know what, fine. But if we stay you’re entering that competition and you’re gonna win,”

So here you are now. Scrambling around like a headless chicken with a stray killer on the loose. Let’s take it back some shall we?

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our animal Freak do Sheek costume competition! Our contestants have worked all year round perfecting there costumes in order to win our $800 dollar cash prize. Here’s how it works, you’ll-,”

You tune out the announcer in favor of the sound of your beating heart. You’ve never been this nervous before! You’ve done this hundreds of times and always came up on top, so why? I’ll tell you why; that same egotistical show off of an axe murder is entering the competition too.

He stands there staring at you silent and unmoving. The only thing that’s different about him is that the paper mache mask from earlier had been replaced with the face of the person who bumped into you. Man, he really thought all of this out didn’t he? You’re brought back to earth by the opening of the curtain revealing you and the rest of the contestants. The crowd cheers in excitement and this alone reminds you as to why you’re here. Malika as well as the rest of your class sit in the audience cheering you on. Hm? Your teachers not here. Whatever, it’s probably the only night he could legally get drunk at school and not have to deal with the repercussions. After the modeling is over you all recoup on stage and watch as the audience places their votes in the ballot box. Squirming in anticipation and nervous sweat beading down your forehead, you anxiously await the answer.

“The results are in! The winner is, drum roll please…” your breath stops and you can’t contain your jitters.

“Mr Axe Murder!” of course! Malika and your classmates give you a sadden smile but you don’t return it. In fact, you give them the brightest one yet. All these years you’ve been waiting for someone to match your talent, sick and tired of always expecting the best and reaching it. You needed a challenge, a thrill; and he gave it to you. Standing next to him on the podium you smile up at him. Sure he was an asshole before, but he deserved it. Looking at the camera as the three first place winners are to take a picture, he swings his axe up, presumably in a posing manner. How wrong were you? Just after the flash he brings his weapon down and with one clean swipe, lops off the head of the rando in third place.

You freeze in shock. This has to be some kinda gag, a prank or something. Everyone else screams and flees as he turns over to the announcer and gives him the same fate as your fellow contestant. The others dash off the stage and he walks towards you, reaching out to grab you. Before he can, Malika jumps on stage and drags you away faster than ever. All you see from behind your shoulder is the struggle of the security guards to hold down his hulking frame.

“What in the absolute fuck was that!” How the hell are you supposed to know!? Next thing you know you just got back into the fun of the night when an undercover serial killer decapitates someone right in front of you.

“Wait… didn’t you say that you saw that same guy hacking into someone else?” …oh. my. god. How could you be so stupid? I mean all the signs were in front of you and you ignored it! He has their face on his for crying out loud! Wait a minute. Face? You turn to Malika and the realization hits you both. Just as you're about to speak, siren blairs throughout the festival.

“Attention! The killer known as the “Mask Maker” has made his way into the festival and has incited a rampage. It is recommended that everyone stays calm and evacuate the premises immediately. I repeat, a killer is on the loose!”

Fuck! You should’ve taken the bus! There’s nothing you can do as you rush towards the exit of the building. Pushing your way past the hoards of people trying to escape this hell house. It’s too late though. The crazed lunatic has already scoped out the area and has started slashing anyone he can get to. He makes eye contact with you and suddenly stops his pursuit of the other patrons. Sprinting his way towards you. This time, it’s your turn to grab Malika and run as fast as you can, running into the first fun house you see.

Making your way inside, you duck and cover into the darkness as you hear the door shut and lock behind you. Venturing deeper into the funhouse into a mock corn field. Malika lets out a shriek as she turns your head and there you see it. There you find the mangled body of your teacher forced into the outfit of a discarded scarecrow, face missing. While surprising, she just alerted him to where your location was.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to but what the fuck is going on,” she cried out. You’re trapped, a killer is targeting you and you don’t know why and all of your colleagues are dead. How are you gonna escape this!?

Split up? Bait him out? Call for help?

“That’s all some white people shit,” in times of need you can always count on her abrasiveness to lighten the mood. You let out a slight giggle, maybe at her brashness or maybe out of anxiousness, you couldn’t tell the difference. Just then the door clicks open and the lights flicker on. You duck further down into the fake stocks of corn and stay as silent as possible. You watch as he makes his way into the next room, but as you sprint up in the opposite direction I hand grabs at Malika's hair. He attempts to slash at her arm but only manages to make a very minimal cut after you picked up a stray rake and bashed him over the head with it. You scoot past him and run out of the maze and back into Main Street, him right on you heels.

Just in the nick of time, you two are able to make it out of the festival when the gates closed. He banged and swung at the gates but you two weren’t sticking around to see if he’d break through. Running between the parking lots looking for anyone or anything you can use to get the hell out of here. Just then your phone dings with a notification. It says you Ubers right in front of you . You whip your head around in delight only for the smile on your face to drop. Your Uber arrived a while ago,you were the ones that were late. He’s hanging out of the crashed car, blood dripping everywhere and face gone. Also leaned up against the car is Gill and the harlot he decided to give your friend up for; or what’s left of them. In the corner of your eye you can see the tiniest grin spread across your friend's face. You decide not to question it as you have more important things to do. You two agreed that your best option was to make a mad dash to the bust stop where at least one person would notice you.

Making it there you both pull out your phones and with the remaining power they have left, call the police and notify them about where you abouts. The roads are empty and it looks like a ghost town. Overwhelmed with everything you break down in the middle of the ghost town. At this point you’ve accepted your fate and thought there was no point in fighting.

“Malika, I just wanted you to know that after whatever happens tonight, I love you,” you look up at her with tears in your eyes and a sad smile.

“Thank you for being my friend,” she stares at you, silent. Her own tears forming and sliding down her cheeks as she drops to her knees and hugs you close. You two lay there sobbing for a good while before she pulls away and shouts.

“I can’t do this anymore!” huh?

“I- I’m sorry, (Y/N) I don’t know what came over me! I’ve always been so jealous of you when I had no right to be. I wasn’t thinking straight. I'm so, so sorry! This is all my fault,” what? What is she talking about?

“Woah, woah; what’re you talking about?”

“All of this! I knew he was coming. I-… I knew he’d be after you,” you stare at her confused before giving a short giggle, but this isn’t time for jokes.

“It’s him (Y/N),” she can’t be serious right now.

“I am. I knew all along; that’s why I dragged you here. That’s why I wanted you to go to that school. That’s why I wanted- I wanted this to happen,”

………………………………………………………………………………….

“Hey! Do you mind if I sit here?” That’s how all of this started. By being nice. By being a decent human being. You don’t remember much about the school; you choose not to. You barely made it through the first semester there. All because of him. Keegan Krane. A man of the arts just like yourself, though, he focused his talents on something more traditional. Wherever he went there was at least a pencil and some acrylics tucked neatly in that tote bag he carried around. He was amazing at what he did! Best of his class, featured in shows all around the area, the whole nine yards. So, it’s reasonable for you to question why he decided to come here when he could be at the top.

“I don’t need to be at the top,” he’d tell you. Eyes locked on yours, his intense wavering in his intense gaze.

“Besides, if I would’ve never met you, I don’t know what I’d do,” ever the charmer he was. Until he wasn’t. You see, Keegan wasn’t who you thought he was. At first he was just some random guy who went to your school. Then he was some random guy who you shared almost all your classes with. Then he was the guy who sat next to you in most of them. He slowly turned into your acquaintance, then your friend, best friend, then your boyfriend. Or at least that’s what he thought.

You’ve always thought he was smart. He knew almost every painting by their name to the artist to what materials they used. He loved literature and poems and would often write them in his free time. He could cook better than anyone you’ve ever known and was exactly your type. He was perfect; maybe just a little too much.

You remember the exact day when the notes started showing up, right before college in senior year. You always wondered where and who they’d come from but anytime you’d ask, you’d never get a sufficient answer. Malika said to enjoy all the attention from your secret admirer but you couldn’t help to be creeped out. They knew what candies you liked, gave you little figurines from your favorite shows and even knew what route you took home.

Over time the notes became increasingly disturbing and the feeling of eyes on your back lingered throughout the day; no matter if you were in school or not. After the discovery of a mutilated carcass of what you assumed was a dead rat with a birds face, you went to the police. Fuck going the principal, all he would ever say was “we’ll check the cameras,” and “kids these days are always to shy to confess,”. Yea right, that was a confession enough, one of a future psychopath.

The notes turned into drawings, drawings turned into pictures, pictures turned into the mangled faces of unfortunate creatures, those turned into breaking and entering; stealing panties, used toothbrushes, the hair from your hairbrush, and that turned into a criminal case. Everything stopped after you went to the police, they most likely knew and were too afraid they’d get caught. Oh how wrong you were. Because that same person followed you to where you were now.

…………………………………………………………………....................

Just after, the man of the hour makes his way from out of the bushes, axe in hand and dragging the dead body of an officer.

“It’s him, (Y/N),” he removes his mask to reveal the face you seen in your darkest dreams.

“It’s Keegan,”

Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed the 2nd part of this. Ik the plot twist is a little confusing but it’ll all make sense in the third installment, trust. It may come out on Halloween it might not, I’m tryin 😭. I wasn’t confident in this but like I said it’ll all come together later. My Ao3 has been created and imma work on moving my posts there too. This was a little long so if you’re still here ty! Bye guys ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

-Love, Sosa ❤️

#yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere! serial killer #✧✩🜚𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐂 🜸𖤐✰ #☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

[apomaro-mellow]

Matchmaking Harringtons 5

This one's a little shorter as we gear up for the final part!

Steve woke up on a warm day near the end of June to see his mother sitting at the table, making calls while his father was out back, doing inventory on his grill supplies.

He went over to the pantry to get some cereal, listening in on his mother's very loud conversation. She was inviting people... family... Aunt Elaine?...

By the time Steve got his bowl, cereal and milk and spoon, he figured that his parents were making preparations for a 4th of July barbecue. Smiling to herself, Diane hung up and made a note in her planner.

"So, the family's getting together for the 4th. It'll be us, your Aunt Elaine and her family for sure. I still need to call the rest. But your grandparents will be there too."

"Okay, sounds fun." A nice cookout with family that he hadn't seen since last summer.

"Oh and they're just so excited to meet Eddie."

Steve sputtered and milk dribbled down his chin. "You told them about Eddie?! About how I-I'm...?"

"No, not yet. But I told Elaine that you might have someone special to introduce everyone to, you know, if Eddie wanted to come and I don't know why he wouldn't..."

"You know why he wouldn't", Steve said.

Diane put on an exaggerated pout and batted her eyelashes.

"Mom...", he sighed.

She let out a little whimper like a sad puppy.

"You are a grown woman", Steve pointed out. "And you're setting a bad example for your son."

Jonas came in, shielding his eyes with his hand as he walked by. "I heard the pouting from outside, whatever it is, just give it to her."

"You're enabling her", Steve said.

"I bet Eddie gives you everything when you show this face. You inherited it from me", Diane said.

Steve let out another heavy sigh. "Alright, I'll ask him if he wants to come."

"You're bringing Eddie to the barbecue?", Jonas asked.

"Apparently everyone will want to meet him, despite not knowing of his existence yet."

"It's not like we're asking him to come to cotillion-"

"Which he's years late to", Steve said.

"Or to escort you to a debutante-"

"I still think your dad's sore that Steve didn't go to one", Jonas said.

"And why would Eddie be escorting me? Why am I not escorting him?"

"You know, we had a similar question regarding your wedding", Jonas said, completely missing the 'cutting' motion his wife was making.

"My what?!"

"Just as a hypothetical", Diane said quickly.

Steve played with his cereal. "You guys get me a boyfriend...you want him to meet the family...why does it feel like you've got a church picked out for August?"

"Who said we got you a boyfriend?", Diane asked at the same time Jonas said, "Who'd get married in August?"

"Eddie told me how you guys 'orchestrated' this whole thing", Steve said. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"It had nothing to do with your confidence Steve. We just wanted to help however we could", Diane said.

"So...you guys really like Eddie?"

"Like him? He's great", Jonas said. "A little odd, but that's what makes people interesting."

Diane smiled. "He has such interesting opinions, I could talk with him for hours. Actually, who does his hair? I would love to take him to the salon and-"

"Whoa there, if I didn't know better, I'd think you two were in love with Eddie", Steve said as he stood and took his empty bowl to the sink.

"Oh, is it wrong to adore our son's boyfriend?", Diane teased.

Steve kept his back to them, his silence betraying the redness in his face right now. He didn't point out that his parents were never this welcoming towards any of his past girlfriends. He knew there was something different about Eddie, and they knew it too. He was definitely 'long-term, introduce to extended family' material.

Part 7

Tag Team

@tartarusknight @swimmingbirdrunningrock @estrellami-1 @potato-of-the-lord @dragonmama76 @m-owo-n @sticknpokelightningbolt @somegirlsomewhere @tinyplanet95 @samsoble @runniem @hallucinatedjosten @nburkhardt @littlewildflowerkitten @noctxrn-e @subversivecynic @larawrmonster @suikatto @platinum-sunset @imacowboy3 @tiny-enthusiast @netflixisacopingstrategymom @honorarybrit81 @manda-panda-monium @krazyperson @adaed5 @lololol-1234 @mrsjellymunson @uwujinniee

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #i feel bad eddie doesnt appear here #esp bc i had a dry humping scene in mind #but the next part will be our climax #so stay tuned

[moonystoes]

Nurse? - Elisa De Almeida x reader (highschool students)

Summary: When the school has never felt this empty, you decide to escape the students by helping out the nurse. Only to find out you can't escape her.

Warning: yap sesh I'm sorry, confusion??(girl me too idk), an annoying guy x

Wc: 5.670k

A/n: Ugh writing the summary is worse than the whole fic wtf. Also finding pics and trying to make the coloring match is shit I'm sorry LMFAO. Apologies for the late post, I've been going through it in school. and as I said again, im pretty new to writing so constructive criticism or advice is needed :)

Part one

This is FANfiction. Please don't view Elisa this way.

-

“Do you know who you're going to prom with?” You turned to look at Sam, walking down the school hallway to your shared class. Prom has been a topic of conversations since they first revealed it two months ago. Now, prom will happen in two weeks, and all the young teens are procrastinating to look for partners.

“Ugh, no! I don't even know why our school decided to add this thing. We don't have to copy Americans, let them do their thing and we will do our thing.” She groaned loudly. You looked around you, noticing people glancing at her weirdly.

“Okay… but the students voted for it, not the school. So technically it's our fault.” You whispered, tugging her closer to remind her to lower her voice. You thought about who might ask you out. Xavi has been eyeing you for a while, but he was caught creating fake Instagram accounts to catfish girls. So there is no possible way of you agreeing to go with him. Edward was a year older than you, and you've been chatting with him at lunch. As much as you enjoyed the conversations with him, you didn't feel anything with him. He was the most attractive guy in his grade, his hazel eyes and dark skin made the girls swoon around him. For you, his personality isn't as attractive as his face, therefore you aren't crazy about him.

Then there is Paul, your childhood friend. You've known him since first grade, sitting together at the school park. In your head, you had imagined your friendship to stay forever, until you both get jobs and live close to each other. But after the both of you hit puberty, he started to act weird and felt uncomfortable around you. You hated it, but you knew it was bound to happen anyways.

It also didn't help you how attractive he grew to be, his short dark hair matched his brown eyes but also contrasted with his pale skin. His soft smile and attentive personality made many of the girls attach to his hip. You were never insecure about your looks, but now you started to question yourself. Did he stop our friendship because I was too ugly?

At some point, some of the girls came up to you and asked what he likes so they can ‘buy him a gift’. Your response was an easy lie, ‘I don't remember, it's been years.’

That doesn't make you guys strangers, he still comes and talks to you every once in a while, just like now.

“Hey y/n… can we talk privately?” Paul startled you. You turned to look at him with confusion, the last time you talked to each other was last month when he asked for the English homework (which you reluctantly gave to him out of kindness… and because you're a people pleaser). You glanced at Sam to check if she's okay with you leaving her, she gave you a small nod and left the both of you alone.

“So… have any plans for the winter dance? Or prom I don't even know what it is.” He awkwardly grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side of the corridor to not interrupt the people walking.

“Are you asking me out as your date?” You questioned slowly.

“What! No…i mean yes. Do you want to come with me?” He shook his head, obviously distracted with something. You stayed silent for a few seconds to think about it. You aren't a ‘party’ person, but the winter prom is a new thing and you wanted to experience it for once. Paul was a complicated guy, he wouldn't talk to you for months and then approach you like nothing happened. At least when he does approach you, he treats you right, or that’s what you thought.

“Sure…do you have any planning? For the dress or just the day as a whole?” You asked. Everytime you watch an American teen movie, you imagine yourself and Mr. Perfect together at a shop buying a dress, the shocked face when they see you going down the stairs all glammed up, going to dinner before prom, and having a soft kiss at the dance…. Although now you don't really feel like sharing your first kiss with Paul.

“Oh?... What thing for the dress? And no, I didn't volunteer for the dance so I didn't plan anything with the organizers,” And just like that your hopes were crushed, of course a 14 year old boy wouldn't know a thing about romance. He clearly didn't care about what dress you'll wear, or what the both of you would do before the event. You shook your head with a sigh, faking a smile and walking past him to your class. “Ohhh! I did vote for you for prom queen… you know? So we both can be like ‘famous’. You should vote for me, if that's what you mean.”

You felt disappointed, pretending not to hear him and walked into your first class. Great. He ruined your day and it just started.

-

Your parents were excited when you told them about Paul asking you. Of course, they've known him for years and his parents are in touch with yours. You were at the store trying to look for an ‘age appropriate’ dress. Your father is staying in the car, obviously fed up with the indecisive behaviors from you and your mom.

“Look, this is great!” You heard your mom cheer from the back of the store, she came up to you with a flower print dress and a bright smile on her face.

“Mom, it looks like I work on a farm.” You sighed, turning to the other side where there are dresses lined up.

“Are you serious? It looks amazing. I like it!” Yeah, you like it. You turned to look at it again, but the sadness in your mother's face caught you off guard. So you decided to lie. You grabbed the dress from her hand and turned it to see it ‘from every angle’.

“You know what? I think it's great. And it's not expensive like the other dresses here.” You faked a smile and looked at the cashier that was standing uncomfortably close to the both of you. You handed her the dress and both went to the checkout.

For you, making decisions isn't something you care about. Everytime you think of something, you'd agree with the others because at the end of the day ‘it's not that serious’. Sometimes, your friends end up scolding you for choosing people's happiness over yours. But when you turned to glance at your mother's happy smile, it was worth it.

-

Wed 19th of December 2012

The next week, Paul had thrown your prom ticket into your locker with no message or any indication. At least he bought you the ticket. Sam has gotten sick as well as the other two girls close to the both of you. She had sent you a message saying she probably won't be at prom, explaining in great details of her vomit and sickness.

You felt all alone and the class has never felt emptier. Fleur had a major knee injury from football practice, two guys were suspended for a fight. Students are calling this week a curse, considering that it's wednesday and prom will just be in a few days. The filled class now is almost half empty, making the class feel quiet.

“Okay…since most of the students are absent, we won't take a lesson today,” Cheers erupted from the class, happy to not have biology. “I'm not done! You will be partnered up to discuss prom preparations.”

The atmosphere changed from cheering to groaning in a second. You glanced at Paul, wondering if he would be your partner. You hoped that Paul would realize he has responsibilities for prom today when the both of you discuss it. But as the teacher started labeling the partners, you realized that it doesn't matter who is your date, she is randomly assigning them.

“Elisa and Marie you don't need to sit at the back anymore, the class is practically empty. Elisa, you sit with y/n. Katoto, sit with Adam.” You sighed frustratingly, why her? During the two months of school, she has been treating you like dirt. Ignoring you and always avoiding you. Whenever teachers put you in groups, she'd ask the teacher if she can be partnered with Fleur instead.

But she's been more open and relaxed now, and it's somehow freaking you out. She has made some friendships there and there with the other girls. She laughs louder, jokes more with her side of the class. And even if her ignorance towards you confused you at first, it wasn’t why you were freaked out. It's how she treats the girls in class. It's like the guys…but gentler? She stares at Amy the same way the guys do, with heart eyes. And all of this frustrates you, because why is she looking at Amy like that? She's not supposed to like Amy. And why is she treating every girl in the class sweetly except you?

Everytime you catch her looking at Amy, you remember that Quora comment. Admittedly, you've been thinking about it everyday for the past 2 months. When you’re near her, you stutter and avoid looking at her eyes. Because when Elisa looks at your eyes, she can read you. And although you know you're not necessarily hiding anything, you don't want Elisa to know how she affects you.

Elisa rolled her eyes in annoyance when the teacher told her to move to sit next to you. Of course it would be you. Your bubbly and nice personality makes her sick, because right when it comes to her, you become mute. It feels as though her sitting next to you makes you feel grossed out and disgusted. It doesn't help how Sam glances at the both of you everytime Elisa walks past you. It's like you have told her something about her, that elisa is some sick joke you told her about. Growing up, Elisa realized that not many people liked her. But she didn't care, until it was you.

You were kind and sweet to everyone. Whenever anyone asks for help, you're always there. Whenever you have to be surrounded by people you don't even like, you're still respectful and treat them well. But why is it when it comes to her, you ignore her? Every time she's near you, she sees your uncomfortable glance, she’s already used to it by now, but it still breaks her.

Homophobia isn’t something surprising, it’s everywhere. But again, the most non-judgemental person… you, she didn’t expect you to be just like everyone else.

She threw her bag next to your seat as she sighed. Of course she’s already groaning around you. You rolled your eyes at her dramatic reaction, pulling open your notes to write anything you need for the prom. You wrote ‘dress’ check, ‘hair’... you’ll just straighten it, ‘make up’ you’ll ask Sam to help you with it. You glanced at Elisa, a blush ran through your face when you saw the sketch of a woman on her notes. Does she have a date? Did she get asked… or did she ask a girl out? There is no way she’d go with a boy… just the idea of Elisa with a boy makes your stomach churn, and you don’t know why it would feel better if she would be with a girl, a person like you.

“Um… so, do you have a date?” You stammered, trying to act casual about the question, as if it hasn’t been on your mind all month.

She looked away from her sketch to glance at you, “no.”

“Why not?”

Elisa was silent for a moment, “Fleur tore her ACL so she won’t come with me.”

Fleur? Why Fleur? Your kind smile slowly turned to a frown, fuck I know I said it would make me feel better if she would ask a girl out but Fleur? Does she like her? No way.

Elisa noticed the way your smile turned into disgust. At first, panic started to get into her head, would you tell everyone that she wanted her date to be a girl? It’s okay, right? A lot of girls go with their friends? Fleur is her friend. But her panic turned into anger, fuck you and your disgusting beliefs. Of course you wouldn’t like the fact she’s into women, and although she never said she's gay out loud, anyone who glances at her knows about it.

“ACL injuries are really serious, tell her I wish her a speedy recovery.” You mumbled, you didn’t know why you’re acting this way, and why does it happen every time with Elisa. Elisa ignored what you said and continued to draw. You were looking at her sketch from the corner of your eyes, what else would she add? Big boobs? Blonde hair? Is her type in girls the same as the boys’? But suddenly Elisa stopped drawing for a second and took a deep breath, then she scribbled all over the drawing, ripping the page away from her notebook and standing angrily to throw it away in the bin.

When she sat back, she moved her seat slightly away from you. You lowered your head feeling shame, what did you do to deserve this from her? Your heart did the fluttering thing again around her, but now it’s because of the heartbreak of rejection. Elisa kept on tapping the pencil on the paper, writing nothing on her notebook. You glanced at Paul, realizing that he was partnered with Amy. Because of the panic of Elisa sitting next to you, you didn’t even think about Paul. Great, Paul is with the hottest girl in class and Elisa here hates your ass, you already knew Sam would be tired from the phone call this evening.

You glanced at the teacher quickly to make sure she's not looking at you. You grabbed your phone and opened the chats between you and Sam and sent her a message.

“Sam I'm sorry for the monster I'd be when we call today.”

Elisa noticed you using your phone, slightly surprised since you've always been the ‘good’ girl of the class. She saw you texting Sam, quickly diverting her eyes away from your phone. Are you texting Sam about the drawing? Is she seriously that grossed out by a silly drawing? Elisa's frustration has faded, now filled with sorrow. How can someone be filled with that much hatred? How can you sit here and act all cute and innocent to everyone but react this way over a drawing?

Right when the bell rang, Elisa grabbed her bag and left first, not even waiting for Katoto. You breathed out slowly, glad that she's not sitting next to you anymore. The rest of the school day was miserable, feeling all alone. At lunch, you sat on the ‘loner benches’, which are placed behind the school buildings near the football pitch. It's called that because nobody usually notices it, so it's always empty. For once, you were too tired to be friendly and socialize with people you can't stand.

When you were watching the football game, you noticed Elisa playing. Sighing, you got up and walked to the building, deciding to help out the nurse in easy tasks like bandages. She likes you, and had previously written notes to the teachers for you ‘to skip’ their classes. And after what happened in class with Elisa, you really didn't want to face her again.

When you reached the nurse office, you saw Ms. Eugene frantically running around her office to grab things into her giant bag. When she turned to look at you she gasped, “oh thank God! I was about to call the office to bring you,” She grasped your arm, pulling you to sit in her office. “My daughter… she's sick, they called right now. Can you please take over my place? You know we don't have other nurses, and I trust you. You're very smart, y/n. If anyone came here with something more serious than a cut, don't hesitate to call the ambulance.” She rambled, her face filled with stress as she grasped her keys.

“I can stay here, just let the office know so I don't get counted as absent,” You were getting more worried about her daughter the more you looked at her. Ms. Eugene is a single mom of a 3 year old girl, having to carry the responsibilities of both parents as one. She nodded at what you said, and pulled the door open. “I hope everything works out with baby Lee.”

She turned to look at you with grateful eyes, and left you alone. You were stressed about the new ‘job’ you got, but excitement started filling you when you looked around. The posters, the small medications, the tapes and bandages. You can now pretend to be a nurse! You pulled out your phone to text Sam about your new adventure, until a knock made you flinch.

You glanced at the door, yelling out a ‘come in’. When the door opened, you heard Elisa's pained voice, “Nurse Eugene?”

When Elisa glanced at you, she rolled her eyes and limped outside, making sure to shut the door as loud as possible. Usually, you would be hurt at this. But by the way Elisa was limping, you jumped up from the big chair and ran out to see what happened.

“Elisa, are you serious?!” You pulled the door open, finding her limping down the stairs. She looks up to see you and asks, “What are you even doing here? Where is the actual nurse?”

“She had a family emergency,” You followed her down the stairs, “Elisa you're limping! I'm just going to tape you and you will not see my face again.” Your voice cracked as you said the last part. Usually you're good at masking your feelings, but Elisa's pained face in front of you and the way she ran away from you broke you.

Elisa groaned loudly and took a step forward, holding onto the stairs’ railing and following you back into the nurse's office. When she got in the room, she limply sat on the bed. Glancing at the wall in front of her instead of you.

She had heard the neediness from your voice, and it made her heart throb quicker. Even when you clearly feel disgust around her, at least you were worried about her right? Did you do this because you cared about her? Or because you didn't want to get in trouble?

You brought disinfectant wipes, a cotton ball, pre wrap, and a tape. You placed them near her on the bed then turned to look at her to see what actually happened. Elisa lifted her foot up to show that the injury was there, and when you looked down you saw a trail of blood and a cut on her lower shin.

You pointed at the bed as your face scrunched in worry. Awkwardly, Elisa twisted her body towards you and layed down, resting her upper body on her arms behind her. You sat on the bed too, making sure the tapes were near you.

You grabbed the wipes packet, glancing at Elisa to make sure she knows it will be painful. But she was already looking at your face, so you panicked and just placed the wipe directly at the cut.

“Fuck!” She pulled her leg away and threw the wipe away. But you grabbed her foot and pulled it to your lap, using a different wipe and attempting to clean up the cut again. Elisa’s hiss was loud, and it involuntarily made your breath hitch and bite your lip for a second. You had to stop being inappropriate and dirty minded. It's disrespectful, so you tried to ignore it and continued cleaning up the wound. But when her defined and thick calf tensed up, you froze. Of course she will have muscles… She plays football!

“Can you be quick? It's burning me.” Elisa's frustrated groan pulled you out of the daydreams, so you quickly placed your right hand on a piece of cotton there and awkwardly tried to place the pre-wrap over it with your left hand. Elisa saw you struggle so she placed her fingers on yours over the cotton pad.

You quickly removed your fingers from her warm hand, and started wrapping her shin tightly with the pre-wrap. It was easier now to be completely focused on the injury in front of you instead of Elisa’s gaze or warm hand, it was your dream to major in a medical field and you didn’t want to harm Elisa or tape it wrong.

All Elisa was doing while you were taping her shin is look at your face. She was intrigued on how you knew how to do this. For her, she plays football and it’s mandatory for all of the players to know how to tape and deal with certain injuries. But for you, she wasn’t sure on how you knew how to do this… or how you’re good at so many things, you were just perfect in everything in her eyes.

She shook her head at her thoughts and looked at your hands instead, watching you bring the sticky white tape and securing her shin just like the physio at her academy. When you were done, you softly tapped her foot, indicating that she can lift it now. She removes her foot from your thighs and twists her body to sit on the bed instead, forcedly turning her head to look at you with a thankful smile, “you taped it well, thank you.”

You shrugged and looked down at both your feet, dangling them around as you bit your lip in embarrassment, “Thank you, I’ve always wanted to do this in the future so…”

“Be a school nurse?” Elisa asked.

“No, just anything with the medical field.” You replied. Elisa didn’t realize how close you were both sitting next to each other until she accidentally nudged your foot when she started moving her feet like you. She stood up, making sure not to put her weight on her foot, and walked to the door.

“Good luck with that, you’re smart and I think you’ll be able to do it.” You looked up to see her at the door, heart slightly warming at what she said. You smiled gratefully at her and nodded, before mumbling a short, “good luck with football.”

Elisa giggled with a shrug at your comment, and closed the door behind her delicately this time. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding and hid your face in your hands. Why was it comforting to you that she thinks your hard work will actually get you to your dream major? Did she lie to make you feel better?...Elisa hates lying, you have noticed that because everytime she doesn’t like anything she’d stay quiet…not lie.

But the door was opened shortly, Elisa appearing again with a flustered smile, “I forgot to ask you for a nurse pass.”

You raised your face from your hands and nodded in her direction, standing up from the bed to the desk and writing a note. When you reached ‘time:’ on the notes, you turned to look at Elisa, “Hey Elisa… Do you want to go to class now or walk around the school? I can lie about the time and basically give you free time.”

She looked away from a random poster and turned to look at you with a bright smile, the ones kids do when they get offered candy. “Will you actually do that for me?”

You giggled at her reaction with a nod, she skipped happily and sat on the bed again. She turned to look at you with a grateful smile and pulled out her phone from her pocket, “thank you, I can’t stand the PE teacher or any of the students.”

You hummed in agreement as you sat there awkwardly. Elisa continued scrolling through her screen, while you were just looking at her. “If the teacher asks you why it took you so long you should say that you were dizzy and almost passed out because it is mandatory for nurses to keep students in their office for a minimum of 20 minutes.”

She looks away from her phone to look at you for a second before returning her eyes back, “yeah thanks.”

You didn’t like how she wasn’t really talking to you, even when you knew she didn't like you at all. For a second, it felt like all the tension that was there in the morning had oozed away, but you soon realized that you had to accept that the discomfort Elisa felt toward you will always be the same. As you thought of a topic to talk with her, there was a knock on the door.

You glanced back at elisa to signal for her to hide her phone, before calling out a ‘come in’.

When the door opened, you saw Elisa visibly grimace and you realized that it's Paul the moment he said your name, “y/n! Or should I say Nurse y/n?”

You turned awkwardly to Elisa with a confused look. Nobody knew you were there other than the office, how did he know? Your minutes of peace were frustratingly disturbed now that other students know. Elisa shrugged to show you she didn't know how he knew, but she didn't want to admit that she did text Katoto about you helping her skip.

“Hey Paul, do you need a bandage?” You fake smiled at him. After the whole prom planning that happened, you really didn't want to be around him.

“What? No, I'm just here so you can write me a note to skip class.” He laughed as he sat at the seat near you, grabbing a note from the desk and giving it to you so you could write him one.

“I'm not allowed to do that Paul, you know that.” You looked at him disappointedly and returned the pack of excused notes back to where they were. Paul groaned in frustration. He glanced at Elisa on the bed and pointed at her, “what about her?”

“Elisa is dizzy and has to stay here for a while.”

“Y/n do you seriously believe that! C'mon, I'm your prom date! She fell and bled a little, that's all. I was there. Look! She can stand and walk normally with it taped.” He cried out, pointing at Elisa's taped shin.

“Calm down weirdo,” Elisa calmly said. She didn't like the way he was yelling at you, and she was slightly worried if you couldn't think of an excuse to tell him about how she was dizzy so she tried to waste time.

In fact, Elisa didn't know why you were doing this in the first place. Taping her shin is understandable, but helping her skip class? Memories of first period hit her, and now she doesn't understand you.

Paul turned to look at Elisa after what she said, “weirdo? Did you just call me that?”

“Paul, stop acting childish!” You groaned. “Elisa got dizzy…when girls are in their…you know what, they can feel dizzy. Especially when they lose even more blood.” You mumbled to him as you pointed at her shin. It may not be the smartest excuse, but Paul doesn't know a single thing about women's bodies and you know he's going to feel weird and awkward when anyone mentions ‘periods’.

Paul looked down in embarrassment after what you said, turning to look back at you. “Um…sorry I forgot you guys get that, I'll just leave.” He talked under his breath, before opening the door and leaving you both alone.

Both of you and Elisa exhaled in sync, before turning to each other with a soft smile.

Elisa looked away from you to the door, “he's a dick.”

You sighed as you relaxed into the seat, “Yeah I don't know what else to do with him,”

You looked at your painted nails, avoiding Elisa's glance. You wanted to speak about this with someone, but you didn't like to put your problems into someone even if it was your best friend. “He didn't even…bother to ask me out properly like the movies.”

Elisa noticed the deep frown on your face. She never expected a day where the both of you are sitting down and talking about boys, but it felt slightly better to know that you're opening up now especially after the two months of ignoring and distancing yourself from her. Maybe you weren't as mean as she made you seem in her head, and she liked this vulnerable side of you. “Well… he's a guy, what did you expect from him?”

You let out a scoff, “it just feels like no guy is good enough. We always put the effort in everything, he couldn't even care about what dress I'll wear or flowers or anything.”

Elisa wanted to make a gay joke, but she still didn't trust you enough to joke that way. And considering the way you behaved around her drawing just a few hours ago, she didn't think it would be a good idea. “You're too pretty and smart for him anyways.”

You looked up to glance at her, but she was looking at her taped up shin. Did she mean it? A deep blush ran through your face, and you let out a soft giggle at the thought of her thinking you deserve better than the most handsome guy of your class.

“Yeah? Like who?” You questioned. Maybe Elisa knows someone she can set you up with for the next prom, or maybe she can help you find the love you always yearned for but the boys are too immature and inappropriate…Or maybe she'd say she's the one for you.

Elisa glimpsed at you and stayed quiet with no response for a few seconds. She shrugged, “none of the guys here for sure. Maybe somewhere else.”

Elisa didn't like the attention you just gave her. You turned a compliment into a questionnaire she can't answer. But who is there to blame but herself, she's the one who said you deserve someone better. Elisa loved the small giggle that came out of you. No matter how much she hated your behavior towards her, she always liked making girls realize guys are trash.

You crossed your hands in front of you as you rested your head on them, looking up to Elisa from your seat. She was deep in thought, and you started wondering if she'd ever date a girl in your school. Would she give her flowers every week? Would she receive flowers?... She's still a girl no matter how different she dresses, and she still deserves them. Would she be a physical person like the students that do PDA? Or would she pretend she doesn't know her girlfriend to not gain attention?

Elisa noticed you staring at her weird, the same glance she'd see Katoto has when she looks at Adam. Her ears turned pink and she pulled out her phone to complain to Marie about the ‘Voldemort guy’ interrupting what could've been your first ever sane conversation.

You were probably thinking about Paul, right? Maybe your ‘dream’ man since the both of you were talking about it.

You realized your thoughts were drifting too much, so you closed your eyes tightly and hoped sleep would come and take you somewhere away from Elisa. You shouldn't be thinking about her that way. And you also shouldn't assume her sexuality, like what that Quora response said…even after what she said about guys.

Elisa had noticed you sleeping, so she concluded that your dreamy stare at her was probably sleepiness making you tired. She sat there and scrolled on her Facebook and Instagram.

When she realized that it had been over an hour of her time in the office, she knew she couldn't use that excuse anymore and needed to focus on the other classes. She stood up and approached you, whispering your name.

When she didn't see you react, she knew she had to touch you. But she didn't know how, childishly afraid of tapping your arm. Your fringe had been covering your face, so Elisa lightly moved them away and placed them behind your ears, hoping you wouldn't feel her touch. Elisa always had short hair and she never wanted to grow it out, but she still loved the feeling of hair in her fingers. Fleur gets frustrated whenever Elisa plays with her hair, and Katoto has braids so Elisa was ‘not allowed’ to touch her hair no matter what (she tried one day and Marie yelled at her).

Your eyes scrunched at the feeling of soft fingers on your forehead, and when you opened your eyes you saw Elisa's horrified eyes. You sat up looking confused, worrying about why she looked like she had seen a ghost. “umm… sorry for touching your hair I tried to wake you up but you didn't wake up from my voice.” Elisa rambled quickly, stepping away from you towards the door.

“Wait,” you groaned out, “You're leaving me?”

Elisa smiled at your confused face, slowly speaking so you could understand, “I spent too much time here already, I can't miss more classes.”

She almost laughed at the way your face contorted, something deep in her is warming up and now her whole body is burning. She knows she needs to leave this room before her thoughts start spiraling, so she gave you a small wave and left the office.

Maybe it was the sleepiness talking, but for once, you finally knew that Elisa is a sweet person… and your heart break from the morning today came back, when you realized that what happened today was only a one time thing.

___

~ yes, the next chapter will be prom

~ fun fact, there are some countries in Europe that do prom nowadays. Maybe not back in the 2010s but this is fanfiction so xx

~ did you guys notice something about Paul's looks? yeah y/n has a type ;)

#nel's writings #elisa de almeida #élisa de almeida #woso x reader #nel recommends fanfiction #elisa de almeida x reader #woso #psg feminines #woso community #woso fanfics #woso soccer #womens football #woso one shot #frawnt fanfics #wlw fanfic

[outsideratheart]

Too Much Teasing (Mapi Leon x reader)

A/N: You guys voted for the Mapi fic so here it is. I hope you like it!

Based off this request.

Life worked in mysterious ways and the past couple of years proved that. In a shock transfer you left Arsenal, your childhood club and the team that brought you up through the academy, for Barcelona.

The Spanish game came very easy to you but life off the pitch was more of a challenge. You are naturally a guarded person but there was one girl that managed to knock down your walls within the first few weeks. You and Mapi bonded over your shared love of tattoos, art and late night walks around the city.

You would see each other everyday which made being back in England for the Euros that much harder. Due the Barcelona's schedule you left for camp the morning after the Copa De La Reina final and you wouldn't be returning to Spain till August, should the tournament end with the Lionesses lifting the trophy.

But the thing about playing in Spain is that it sometimes felt like you lived two lives. For example, your England team mates had no clue you were dating the Zaragoza native. You were planning on telling them during the Arnold Cup but it was your first tournament as Captain and Mapi wanted you to focus. You were keeping the most important thing in your life from some of the most important people in your life.

You missed your girlfriend dearly and whilst you wanted nothing more than to drive to Marlow to see Mapi on your days off you know you couldn't so you settled for phone calls, more specifically late night phone calls. You walk aimlessly around the Teddington compound talking to Mapi about everything and anything. The sound of your girlfriend's voice had the power to distract you from the pressure that came with being the home favourites.

"Te quiero mucho baby"

You end the phone call and try your best to enter your room quietly as not to wake up your room mates.

"I take it i'll meet your secret girlfriend when I come to Barcelona?"

Lucy's voice makes you jump in your spot. Like every other night, you expected her to be asleep. You decide to ignore her question, choosing instead to get ready for bed but the defender continues her questioning whilst you’re in the bathroom.

"Will I meet her over dinner or at a team meeting?"

"Team meeting. Now no more questions" you warn her but she doesn't care.

"Am I going to be playing against her on Thursday?"

You freeze. Yes you were aware that England would be playing Spain in the quarter finals but what didn't register is that you are going to be playing against, and possibly beating, some of your closest friends.

"No way! You're dating Alexia!"

"What? No"

"It's just that you didn't answer"

"Because i've just realised that the next game we play will destroy mine and your team mates dreams of winning the euros"

"I thought you knew that. Isn't that the reason why you have been sad when you don't think people are watching?"

"I miss her a lot. This is longest we have been apart in a while and i'm finding it hard not being around her" You felt lighter having said out loud what you have been feeling for the last week.

You really wished that you could see Mapi before you play each other in Brighton. The fact that you wouldn't led to you being in a sour mood the next morning and it seemed to give the some of the players the perfect opportunity to make your mood worse.

"Hello grumpy, did somebody not get enough sleep?" Meado pokes your cheek as she sits down next to you.

"What can I say, Lucy snores like a pig" you know it wasn't your best work but hopefully it would change the direction of the teasing.

"No I don't!" Lucy argues "your grumpiness has nothing to do with me, it's because you miss your girlfriend"

"LUCY!" you glare at her from across the table.

"What?" the defender is no where near awake enough to realise what she has just said.

"Y/N has a girlfriend" Ella sings

"Who?"

"Is she english?"

"No she'll be Spanish"

"Is she hot?”

"Of course she is, look at Y/N" Alessia casually says.

"Lessi, you think i'm hot?" you ask the blonde knowing that she will get embarrassed.

"What, no" her response earns a scoff from you "no, I didn't mean that. I mean that you are, well you're you, we all see the way the fans obsess over you and some even flirt with you even though you don't back which I think is strange"

"It's because she has a girlfriend" Georgia turns the attention back to you.

This time instead of them asking questions they start guessing who it could be. They name the entire Spanish national team as well as the more known players in the league. Hempo is the one that guesses correctly but no way are you letting her know that.

In the end you walk away from the table, not that any of them have realised. Their attention was now on the non Spanish players playing in Spain. You make yourself another cup of coffee hoping that it will do one of two things, wake you up and ease the interrogation that you will be returning to.

"Y/N"

"What!" you snap.

When you turn around you are met with Ellen who has your phone.

"Your phone kept going off" The older forward passes you your phone. When you glance at your screen you see the name and a photo of the two of you which was taken over the Christmas period in Zaragoza.

"Mapito?" Ellen question.

"I called her it once, she changed the name of the contact" you explain.

The look on Ellen's face isn't one you recognise. It's similar to when she is happy about something but this expression has a hint of something else.

"I'm proud of you Y/N. I used the think you would never allow yourself to have a life off the pitch"

It wasn't what you were expecting her to say but you feel a warmth grow inside of you. She was right, for a long time you was solely focused on your career and everything else came second to that. Now you have someone who you will happily spend the day with and not give football a second thought whilst you are with her.

"Oh and one more thing" Ellen says "You don't have to worry about me telling them but please make sure you don't let it cloud your judgement during the game"

"Thank you Ells and you don't have to worry about that, I won't let them go back to Spain with bragging rights"

You try and think of the best place to call Mapi back, as you wander the ground you choose the garden at the front of the hotel. Butterflies flooded your tummy as you wait for her to pick up.

Mapi picks up but before she acknowledges that you have called her, you hear her shouting at Leila, then the other defender's voice comes through the phone.

"Y/N, you need to sort your girlfriend out. She is a sexually frustrated mess and only you can give her the pleasure she needs" Leila blatantly tells you.

"Yeah Y/N" your hear Pina's voice "Mapi is so in love with you that she seems to hate all of us when you're not here"

You found a tiny bit of comfort knowing that your girlfriend was subject to the same teasing you were getting.

"That's not true. She just loves me more now please give her the phone back"

You hear the sound of the line change and you know that one of them has put the phone on speaker.

"She's counting down the days until she can kiss away your sorrows when we beat you" Patri joins in.

"I admire your confidence or maybe it's your stupidity. Besides from what Mapi has told me, Jorge has been working you to the bone so it will be my pleasure to send you home so that you can all have some time off before pre season"

"I hate it when you do that"

Now you heard the voice of the woman you originally wanted to talk to.

"What's that maps?" you ask her.

"You say something mean but you do it in the nicest way possible"

"It's one of my many skills"

"I prefer your other skills"

"Mapi! There are kids around" you say referring to her younger team mates, who you happen to be close with as well.

"I'm alone now and I really wish I wasn't" you could hear the frustration in her voice.

"Maria Leon, do you always have sex on your mind?" you tease her.

"Sex, no. Sex with you, yes. Can you honestly say you don't miss me or that you don't crave my touch?"

"No, I can't. I miss you and everything that comes with you"

"We are not leaving our apartment for a week when we get home" Mapi's promise was something you looked forward to but it was also unrealistic.

"I wish that was true"

"Me too"

The line goes quiet and for a second you think she has hung up but then you hear her breathing and it worries you.

"We'll be ok after the game won't we? I know one of us will lose but it won't affect me and you will it?"

"You mean our relationship?"

Mapi hums in response.

"Of course not. I love playing football but nothing in this world means more to me than you. Is that what's got you so stressed out?" part of you knew something bigger was going on with your girlfriend. To most of the world she has this tough exterior but it couldn't have been further from the truth.

"The girls keep saying that if we beat you then you will break up with me"

"Which girls?" you asked the question even though you had your suspicions.

"Leila and —“

"I'll speak to her" you hated that the girls were teasing Mapi despite knowing how sensitive she can be "As for me breaking up with you, well the chances of that happening are lower than you beating us and that is very low"

"You know that playing against me will be harder than playing against any other team"

The cockiness in her tone was back and although you knew you could beat her, doing so would be very difficult.

"Oh yeah, why is that?"

"Because I know how you think and how you play. I know your mind and your body"

You hated thinking about the power Mapi had over. She was right when she said you knew your mind and body, at this point it practically belonged to her. Your mind was at it's calmest when she was around and your body yearned for her whenever you were away.

A short distance away you see Ella and Alessia hiding, no doubtedly eavesdropping on your call and whilst most people would end the conversation you are about to have or at least steer it in a different direction, you saw the chance to teach the young forwards a lesson.

"You do? What is my body thinking right now?"

Their eyes widen at your words but they don't move. It's as if the stare you give is causing them to be frozen in place.

You try to keep the rest of the conversation as vague as possible but Mapi makes it very difficult because for every reply you give she responds with a suggestion that makes you want to drive all the way to Marlow.

In the end Mapi gets called away which ends the call a lot sooner than you wanted but you know you are in for quite the teasing, that's if Ella and Alessia have the guts to share details of your call with the rest of the team.

"My little devils, what am I going to do with you?" you put an arm around each of their shoulders.

The three of you walk back through the hotel in silence. It is clear the younger girls don't feel comfortable discussing what they heard on the phone. That is until you reach the breakfast room where some of the players are still lounging about.

"Y/N was having phone sex with her girlfriend" Tooney shouts.

"Ella!" Me and Alessia say in unison.

It wasn't that you didn't expect her to say anything, it’s more so the fact that she announced it to the whole room as soon as she entered.

"And you did it in front of the kids?" Jill jokes.

Jill then proceeds to console a scared Ella but you couldn't care less.

"The kids happened to be eavesdropping and I was enjoying my phone call way to much to stop on their behalf"

Some of the younger players fake gagged at the thought but the older players knew you wouldn't have said anything that bad given that you had kept your relationship a secret, so your sex life wouldn't be any different.

"Give me three clues" Leah asks when you take at a seat at her table, which also sat Lucy, Keira, Georgia, Millie and Rachel.

You expected better from your co captain but you knew the clues you would give and your friends would hate them.

"Fine" you reply much to the table's surprise "3 clues. She's from Spain, she speaks Spanish and she plays for Barcelona"

The first two are obvious but the third clue let’s them narrow down their list of names.

"Did you really have phone sex knowing they could hear you?" Millie asks.

"God no. Do you really think I'm going to have that kind of conversation in public where everyone can hear me and where I can do nothing to satisfy the urges that come with it?"

"Y/N!"

"Just saying"

When the team arrive at the stadium a few days later, they watch you and wait to see if you will give away the identity of your Spanish girlfriend. You on the other hand start to get nervous about what this game means and what it will take in order to reach the semi finals. You would have to outplay the people who you, for the most part, train with every day.

You wanted nothing more than to skip right through the pitch inspection. Since finding out you were dating a Barcelona player, the team have been teasing you relentlessly and you didn't have the energy to go toe to toe with them today. When you walk out onto the pitch you see that the Spain team are already there and when you see a certain defender you remember that you need to talk to her. The team watch as you and the Spanish national walk away and you can hear them shouting things but given the eyes around them the don't say that much.

"Y/N" Leila wraps her arms around you "I've missed you chica"

The conversation you had with Mapi kept replaying in your head. The seeds of doubt that her friends had planted began growing and you couldn’t doing anything to stop them, not right now anyways.

"Leila"

"Am I in trouble?" you nod your head "Why?"

"Do you know why Mapi is worried i'll break up with her?" from where you stand you can see your girlfriend bent down at the centre circle doing her own inspection, something that is part of her pre match routine.

"It was a joke which now that I see your face I realise isn't funny"

"She is one of your best friends, you know how sensitive she is. Just think before you say things that will stick in her head. Now we're going to see her so that you can apologise"

"You just want me to come with you so that your team doesn't get suspicious"

There’s no need for you to respond, she is right and she knows it.

"Hi"

Mapi's head snaps up at the sound of your voice.

"Hola bonita" she stands up and gives you a hug, one that doesn't last no where near as long as she wanted.

No words are exchanged, both of you break out in a smile, just being within touching distance is enough for now.

"Is this my punishment? Being made to stand here whilst you eye fuck each other?" Leila groans. She is used to be the third wheel in Barcelona having joined you and Mapi on date night more than a few times but the tension between the two of you makes her feel a little uncomfortable.

"Punishment?" Mapi looks to see you with a smug grin plastered across your face.

"Right, yes. Leila is there something you would like to say?"

"I'm sorry for saying Y/N would break up with you when we destroy the lionesses"

"Destroy?" you laugh slightly at the defender's optimism.

"You know I love your confident side but Leila's right, we will go back to Spain victorious"

"I know don't what's worse, the fact you think you're going to win or that you just said Leila's right"

Leila asks if you'll walk back with her stating that she had something she wanted to talk to you about. The conversation ended with you walking back into the tunnel with your arms wrapped around her shoulder whilst your hand rested on her waist.

Your team mates takes you spending most of the time with the brunette as confirmation, they are determined that you are dating Leila Ouahabi. In the locker room you got question after question about how your relationship starting and it didn't both you in the slightest, how could it, they had the wrong person. Once you re entered the locker room after warm up the teasing stopped and the game faces appeared.

The match ended with England going through to the semi final but you couldn't bring yourself to celebrate. This would go down as the worst win in your career but being the captain came with duties that you couldn't get out of. You thanked the fans and did your interview but neither of those could keep your focus because no matter where you were on the pitch you could see your friends in red consoling each other.

"Aren't you going to console your girlfriend?" Lucy asks.

"You know what, yes I am" you had watched from a distance for long enough.

Lucy who had been joined by Keira watches are you walk towards the group of Barcelona players. Like Lucy expected you went to Leila first but for you it was because she was the closest person to you, funnily enough Mapi is the last person. You had seen her wear a brave face for the sake of her team mates but it is only when she is in your arms does she drop the facade.

"I'm sorry" you subtly kiss her neck.

The embrace between you is different than the one you shared with your other team mates. When you lift you head up you see Lucy watching with shocked expression. When you unclasp your hands that are settled on the small of Mapi's back, you send Lucy the middle finger. The action let's her know that she was wrong and in doing so you tell her who you're dating.

"What's that about?" Keira asks.

"You'll find out when you join me in Barcelona"

"Shhh" Keira shoves her girlfriend "I told you it was a secret"

You stay out on the pitch as long as the Spain team does. You have no intention of celebrating the win and you hoped the fans and your team would understand this. When the stadium starts to empty, the players leave the pitch.

"Do you they know about us?" Mapi asks as she walks in sync beside you.

"Ellen does but the rest think I'm dating Leila"

This causes Mapi to stop in her tracks. Her eyes go wide in shock and she finds herself getting angry. She didn't like the act the world didn't know you were hers but your team mates thinking that you were with Leila, that she really didn't like.

"I'm not ok with that"

At this point you are practically in the tunnel so you grab her hand and pull her into one of the treatment rooms. You were grateful for the privacy it gave you and under any other circumstance you would be up for having a little bit of fun but you can tell by Mapi's face that she is very serious about this.

If her face didn't give it away, her choosing to pace the small room instead of sitting with you on the physio bench with you did.

"You're my girlfriend, not Leila's, and I don't want your team thinking you are dating my best friend"

To see Mapi care this much about people, who to her are strangers, is a rarity. You didn't care much for other people's opinions so whether the team knew or not, didn't matter. This was something you thought Mapi agreed with you on but her reaction tells you otherwise.

"Mapi" you voice is soft as you try to get her attention.

"I know that it's me who chose not the tell them at the beginning of the year but that was a mistake. They should know that you are mine and not hers"

Now she is getting territorial, a side which rarely ended well in the past. Mapi didn't like to share but this isn't sharing, your team don't even think of Mapi when they think of your relationship which makes it worse.

"Maria" you hope using her birth name will make her stop but it doesn't.

"Y/N I love you and I don't want them thinking you love Leila. You love me"

"Yes, I do"

Fatigue was beginning to set in. After playing 120 minutes of football your legs were getting heavy and given that Mapi had the job of keeping up with you for the game, you knew she would be feeling the same yet she continues to pace back and worth as she worked through her frustrations.

"Do they think Leila makes you happy? That she can love you the way I do? Make you feel the way I do? That—"

"Maria Pilar Leon Cebrian"

"Yes" she stops pacing when she is in line with you.

Using your index finger you signal her to come close to you. Her face changes and you know it's because she has finally noticed you are in a room together, alone. When she is close enough you take a fistful of her shirt to close the remaining distance between the two of you. Mapi’s hand cups the back of your neck as your lips crash into each other. The time you spend away from each other never get’s easier and it makes the reunions that much more intense. Nothing else matters in that moment other than to rid Mapi of the insecurities she is clearly feeling. When you pull away it is only for a second to catch your breath and then you are leaning back in, hungry for more and by the way Mapi mouth moves in sync with yours she obviously misses the connection you shared just as much as you did.

You are so caught up in the moment that you don’t hear the door open, nor you do you hear the voices that belonged to your team mates. At first they say nothing, they simply stand there and watch the two of you. They didn’t know what to do, they didn’t want to move in case they made a noise and it was clear that the two of you didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.

It is only when you start to lift Mapi’s t-shirt do they make themselves known.

“Sorry to interrupt but this is the treatment room and some of the others are on their way here” Chloe gives you a heads up.

What they didn’t see is that you already have your shirt off and Mapi being mapi, she didn’t bother putting hers on fully, instead it stays hung around her neck.

Just then another door open, one that you didn’t even notice was there and given the commotion that you can hear on the other side let’s you know it connects to the lionesses locker room. Your suspicions are proven true when you see Ella and Georgia, their eyes widen at the sight in front of them, you half dressed and Mapi not that much better

“Hempo!” Georgia shouts “You were right. Y/N’s secret girlfriend is Mapi Leon” 

Mapi still stands in between your legs and shows no sign of moving. You rest your head against her chest hoping that if the two of you stay still and quiet then the team will leave you alone but that doesn’t happen.

“How do you know?” Beth comes into the small treatment room followed by a couple more of your team mates.

You thought the teasing was bad before but now they know the identity of your girlfriend they have a lot more material to use against you. Something that is surprising is that a few of them tease Mapi even though they haven’t really met her other than on the pitch.

You tap Mapi’s sides indicating her to move away so you can stand up and put your shirt back on and help her with hers. You quickly peck her on the lips before taking her hand and dragging her into the Lionesses locker room. If you introduced her properly then maybe the night back at the hotel won’t be complete torture.

“Mapi meet the lionesses, girls meet Mapi my girlfriend”

You can see the grin that spreads across Mapi’s face upon hearing you officially introduce her as your partner. She had been waiting for this for months and you had too.

“Wait” Rachael interrupts the questions that the girls have “I thought you were dating Leila Ouahabi, their number 15”

“No, she is not’ Mapi corrects her rather abruptly “She is my girlfriend” 

You had just managed to settle down her territorial side and now, without knowing, Rachael had woken it back up.

“But Y/N spent all her time pre match with her, not you” Millie joined in and by the smirk of her face you know that she, for some reason, felt confident enough to tease the spaniard.

Mapi is ready to fight for you even though it is unnecessary and you really didn’t want her going back into her changing in a foul mood given that most her team will be feeling rough because of the final score.

“You sure you want to tease her millie?” You know Mapi wouldn’t hurt a fly but there is a reason why she got ‘looks can be deceiving’ on her neck.

Mapi picks up on the game you are playing and she changes her face. Safe to say Millie steps back without saying another word.

You lead Mapi out of the changing room but one of your team mates can’t help themselves. They had to tease your girlfriend on last time.

“Sorry we beat you and sent you back to Spain” Alessia says confidently.

Mapi knew she was one of the players you had taken under your wing but she can’t let the young forward get away with it.

“It’s ok. We’ll beat you in the champions league. Oh, wait, no we won’t. You didn’t qualify” 

At the mention of United Ella stands up ready to defend her club and after the game you had just played you really didn’t have the energy to play mediator between your girlfriend and the devils.

You push Mapi out the door but pull her back for one more kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast before you go back to Barcelona” 

Mapi deepens the kiss and you don’t have the will power you push her away, not at first anyways. It is only when you hear a mixture of wolf whistles and fake gagging do you end the kiss. 

“I’ll see you in the morning. Te quiero Y/N”

“Yo también te quiero” 

Upon re-entering your locker room you see all eyes on you. Let the teasing begin, again.

#woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon one shot #barcelona femeni x reader #Barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona femeni one shot #espwnt x reader #espwnt one shot #espwnt imagine

[giggle-bee]

Triple Threat (Squealing Santa 2023!)

Hi, @hakurei-k, I'm your Santa for this year! Sorry this is a little late, but I hope you still enjoy it! It was a challenging prompt since I don't typically write intense stuff with multiple lers, but it was a fun fic to do, and I'm so happy I got you!! I also want to thank @squealing-santa, Hypah, for being such an amazing host!! Couldn't have done it without you, thank you for keeping the tradition alive!

(Ler!Barbatos, Ler!Solomon, Ler!Simeon, Lee!MC)

Warnings: pranks, suprise tickles

Summary: Barbatos has a day off but doesn't know how to spend it. How better to than with you? Mediating a prank war wasn't in the plans, though.

Word Count: 1.8k

When Diavolo had first approached Barbatos about taking the day off, he was against the idea. “My Lord, the New Year’s celebration is not far away. The castle must be prepared for guests, there is much work to be done-” “Exactly my thoughts! You’ve been working tirelessly, my friend, you deserve some time to yourself. It’s my castle, I want to have part in the decorating! Besides, I know you’ve been keeping an eye on that new tea house. Take the day and relax, Barbatos.”

Diavolo patted him on the back and left Barbatos standing in his office, lost for words and with a blank mind for the first time in a while. For anyone else, the opportunity would be a blessing, to leave your duties behind and pay attention to the parts of your life neglected. All Barbatos could think about was the castle in a state of disarray, clashing colors, decorations strewn haphazardly about the place, anything less than perfect was not acceptable.

However, Diavolo’s pout if he figured out Barbatos was still working during his break was too heartbreaking to think about. Barbatos sighed, pulling out his DDD and pulling up his messages with you.

Barbatos MC, would you like to join me at Witch’s Brew this afternoon? My schedule has been cleared. 

MC Oh? Is that the new tea place across from Majolish? I would love to!

Barbatos Alright. See you at noon. 

Witch’s Brew was a quaint shop that sold both loose leaf teas, tea sets, and delicious desserts. To a demon like Barbatos, it was heaven. The aroma of dried flowers and warmth tickled his nose as he opened the door, sitting down at a small table with a candle in the middle. It was peaceful here, soft music playing over the speakers and setting a light ambience to the space. Ordering some tea for the both of you would be his first order of business. The fragrant notes of hibiscus and lemon called to him from behind the counter, he would bring it back to the table piping hot and waiting. 

A smile came across his lips as he imagined you taking the first sip, your eyes lighting up at the sweet flavor- rich and floral with a hint of tart to balance it. The thought was almost as sweet as you were. The tinkling of the doorbell made Barbatos glance up hopefully from his cup, eyes alight when he saw you. But you weren’t carefree and jubilant as usual. He picked up on the nervous glances you were sending around the room, your hesitant steps towards the table, and most of all, you hadn’t greeted him with so much as a smile yet. Quite unusual. 

“Ah, hello Barbatos! Sorry I’m late,” you whispered, smoothing your clothes and sitting in the chair he pulled out for you. The demon cocked an eyebrow at your behavior, instantly analyzing your expression. He knew something was up.

“Would you like to tell me what is obviously bothering you? You look like someone is out to get you.”

“Ahaha… well…” You scratched your arm, averting your gaze and peering down into the teacup. “You could say that.” You chose to elaborate on the prank war currently going on in Purgatory Hall, the one you had started a week ago. Luke had voted on staying out of things, which meant you, Solomon, and Simeon would have to prank amongst yourselves.

Pulling out all the stops this morning, you had set up several pillows to fall onto Simeon’s head, covering him in feathers. You had swiped one of Solomon’s singing potions earlier in the week and mixed it into a batch of cookies, which had him singing curses for the next hour. You had found these harmless pranks extremely funny, but both Solomon and Simeon were sure to get you back. 

“So that’s why I have to stay vigilant! They could be anywhere, Barbatos, I have to keep a lookout,” you explained, taking a sip of your tea. The flavor was complex and delicate, a nice reprieve from the chaos going on with your friends. You melted into the warm drink, nodding at the teapot, “This was a good pick, thank you for letting me try it!”

Barbatos shook his head with a fond smile. He knew you were “I believe tea is better when shared in good company, so it’s my pleasure.” Pouring you two another cup, he thought on your predicament. If Solomon and Simeon were working together, it could spell disaster for everyone in Purgatory Hall.

Humming in thought, Barbatos finished his tea and set the cup down gently onto a saucer. “Can I escort you back? Like I said, my schedule is clear for the day, so it would be no trouble. That way, you won’t have to worry about anything on your way,” he offered. Barbatos knew they would never do anything to harm you, but if it would make you feel better, it was worth it.

You perked up, relief washing over your face. “I would appreciate it, those two like to scare me as much as it is.”

Taking a dessert to go, you and Barbatos left the teahouse and started the journey back to the House of Lamentation. On the way, you talked about everything from next year’s classes to Satan’s newest cat adoption antics. Barbatos felt at ease talking to you, as he always did. His worries for the celebration faded with every step as he let you take the wheel of the conversation. Before you knew it, you two were on the doorstep. 

“Thank you for walking me here, Barbs. We need to do this again sometime!” You opened the door and were about to wave goodbye when two arms pulled you into the foyer. Barbatos quickly moved inside, surprised by the sight that greeted him. 

Solomon and Simeon had trapped you in their arms, encircling you like twin felines playing a game of cat and mouse. Solomon’s deadly smirk was something you knew all too well, paired with Simeon’s laughing eyes, they had been out to get you from the start. “You fell right into our trap, MC~” Simeon purred in your ear, watching your eyes flit between the trio of people in the room. Well, one human, one angel, and one demon. The mischievous fire in Solomon’s eyes appeared anything *but* human to you in this moment. 

Solomon looked to the demon at the door, “What do you think is a fitting punishment for our friend here, Barbatos?” 

Barbatos slowly stepped forward until he was in front of you three, assessing the situation. “Seeing as they’ve confessed their transgressions to me already, I believe something… like this will suffice,” Barbatos reasoned, grinning at your shocked face.

“Barbatos! You’re supposed to be on my side- HEY!” Barbatos wormed his hand between you and Simeon to give your side a squeeze, making you curl into Solomon. Simeon started to snicker at the idea, using his free hand to scribble around your neck while Solomon’s smile grew wolfish. “I think that’s a great idea, don’t you think so, MC?” 

You were trying not to react to Simeon’s gentle scribbles, your cheeks puffing out and your lips pouting to hide your smile. “N-no! Not a great idea! Barbatos- help me!”

Raising an eyebrow, the demon tilted his head to the side, “You want me to help? Alright, I can manage that. After all, I have no obligations today, I can spend as much time as I want here.”

Barbatos latched onto your sides, kneading into them with sudden speed and vigor that you weren’t prepared for. Your straight faced facade went flying out the window as you tried to wiggle away from the tickles to no avail. Solomon and Simeon seemed to have the same idea, the angel’s fingers finding a home in your armpits and Solomon’s squeezing at your hipbones. “WHAHAHAIT! NOhOHoO!” 

You had endured tickle attacks from all three of them separately, but together, the trio was insufferably good at reducing you to a laughing fit. They continued to scribble and poke all over your worst spots, Simeon finding a good spot on your lower tummy that almost sent you backwards. Every time you got used to something, one of them would move, sending you into giggles all over again. 

“I almost forgot how ticklish they are! Solomon, keep that up,” Simeon laughed with delight at how you squirmed away from Solomon’s evil hands that were currently chasing your ribs. “If I were you, I would stay still- it would be done a looooot faster!” Solomon chirped from your left, tazing your ribs and making you fall into Barbatos’s waiting arms.

“Your laugh is almost as sweet as the tea, you know,” Barbatos whispered quietly, kneading into your lower back and sides, chuckling when you tried to pull away with a blush. Simeon gasped and excitedly pulled you away, hugging you tight against his chest. 

“Theres this thing I used to do to Luci when he would misbehave, let me show you!” He closed his eyes and you felt invisible feathers gliding across your ears and neck, making you scrunch up. The feathers seemed to reach all of your worst spots, soft but they tickled like hell. When you felt one graze the bottom of your foot, you squeaked in surprise, how was this even possible? Simeon’s laugh sounded like bells, contrasting with your loud and squealy one. “I cAhAHaAHaN’t! PlEHehAHeaSe!” 

He slowed down the feathers of his wings to softly stroke up and down your arms, letting you collapse into him. Solomon ruffled your hair, “You all tired out? I think it’s payback for making me sing through all of breakfast. Simeon looked like a fancy chicken this morning,” he laughed. Simeon rolled his eyes, “Did you learn your lesson, MC? Never mess with Purgatory Hall, or you’ll awaken the tickle monsters that live there!” He tapped your nose, taking note of your lingering smile and flushed cheeks. He grinned and gave you a hug, releasing you. 

Barbatos had his hands behind his back, almost like he hadn’t contributed to your ticklish demise. “The cake is still outside, would you like me to bring it in?” His sly smirk didn’t go unnoticed, you nodded, rolling your eyes. “You were supposed to help me!”

“I never said I would help you. Besides, I think you deserved a little prank back for the ones you performed,” he noted, bringing the slice of matcha cake inside. 

With a sigh, you took the bag, holding out the delectable sweet. “How about a truce? Do you guys wanna split this?” All three of them nodded, causing you to smile. As you made your way towards the den, Barbatos concluded that his day off was a day well spent.

#squealing santa 2k23 #ss2k23 #obey me tickles #obey me tickle fic #ler!barbatos #ler!solomon #ler!simeon #lee!mc #lee!reader #honey #bee writes

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

38 - A Brewing of New Mystery

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

Length: 18.6k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, descriptions of blood and violence, execution, past familial-parental abuse, past character deaths, exploration of trauma, mild smut

Notes: If any of the discussions about the lore leave you confused, do not worry it's confusing our protagonists even more. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

“You have many enemies in Castle Black. Have you considered sending Alliser Thorne elsewhere? Give him command of Eastwatch by the Sea.”

Stannis had been conflicted in that room. He wasn't going to sit there and force Jon Snow to join his cause, nor was he going to argue about it if his made was made up. He was a grown man, he could make his own decisions but that didn't mean it felt like the right one to watch play out.

The Nights Watch was an institution Stannis believed in, he would never have come to their aid if he didn't. It was a mere coincidence, or perhaps the Lord trying to guide him to the right path when in the aftermath of overpowering Mance Rayders army, did he come face to face with his late daughters best friend from childhood. But it gave opportunities, to both of them.

He had given Stannis suggestions of where and how to move about the North instead of a straight march through Winterfell, and in return Stannis had attempted to give guidance to someone he could tell was bursting at the seams to be given the freedom of leadership, whether Jon had known that was in him or not. But he sat in that office hearing his offer being turned down, that his place was at Castle Black and Stannis wasn't about to show him the disrespect of telling him he was making a mistake.

Parting ways however, it was a thought which came into his mind as he and Ser Davos approached the door. So he turned back, asking about Ser Alliser. Jons answer though, was interesting. He was sure of himself and there was no fault in that, “I heard it was best to keep your enemies close.”

Stannis gave only one last thought on that matter, not knowing if it would be something he listened to or not. “Whoever said that didn't have many enemies.”

Whatever Ser Davos had stayed behind to discuss, Stannis did not invade the conversation, but he had much to consider in the aftermath anyways. He had paid close attention to the dynamics going on here, and it was very curious the things which were playing out. There was a divide amongst the men and it was split between two people in particular. The vote for Lord Commander had brought that rivalry into the daylight for all the men to see.

One single vote from the old Maester had swayed the course of their leader. But half and half, that was a very tough place for the new Lord Commander to be put in.

Not from those who didn't vote for him, if the finite details of every mans personal opinions mattered as heavily as the other then there would be endless chaos. No, the only thing which mattered was those in authority who could stand in his way. Thorne was one of them, the biggest problem. The men who all stood with him were another problem. He would not be able to sway other men to his side, but he would be able to strength his position by boulserting his place amongst Jons opposition.

It was a problem Stannis knew too well. He had lived in Kings Landing for a number of years, and there it was the root cause of wrongly surrounding yourself with enemies. It was why he was fine with being disliked. He didn't need to be liked, he simply needed to not allow himself to make such direct enemies.

Of course, one man made such a task increasingly difficult.

Spies were that problem. Cersei's were less of a care, many of hers towards his family were used in her strange need to spy on his daughter, only to fail in swaying you to her manipulation. Lord Varys he trusted not one bit, but he wasn't an enemy. Spiders weren't foes but pests to be on the watch for should they come creeping up on your shoulder without notice. No, Stannis only had one enemy and he had the misfortune of staring him in the face half of his days.

It was why he begun placing you in the position of doing his work dealings with Petyr Baelish. Stannis did not tell you his underlying motives or plans, and thus you had nothing to give away to the man when forced to cooperate with him. You were young, and a maiden and the Kings niece, you naturally would draw his interest to keep a close eye on which left Stannis free to distance himself and act without the man knowing. By the time he had outlawed prostitution on Dragonstone entirely, crippling his ability to spy on Stannis in his own home, Petyr Baelish had been blind sighted by its occurrence.

Stannis knew which of his men were loyal, and from that point on information was kept on a very tight knit basis between each other as he continued to use you as a distraction, which worked. You were combative with him, only causing him to watch you further and watch Stannis less.

He did not keep his enemies anywhere near close.

So, it was an interesting afternoon when he heard the commotion. Moving out to the landings in Castle Black in time to see a barrage of black come out of the meeting hall, and a group of men in particular holding another as the yelling begun. Janos Slynt sounded as egregious as he always did, only now as Stannis watched where they were dragging him did he begin to suspect that Jon was indeed, a better listener then Stannis was giving him credit for.

“Get your hands off me. Stop, all of you. If the boy thinks he can frighten me, he's mistaken. Yes, very mistaken.” Dragging the man out to the courtyard did he stop yelling for only a second as another on the platform close by, slammed down a block.

Stannis only grew more focused. His advice had been sending one of his biggest adversaries away, but it seemed the new Lord Commander's first decision was far more bold then that, and sent a much more striking message to the rest looking to pick up the mantle.

Continuing to yell, Janos Slynt assumed his position once in the world mattered here. His command of the City Watch of Kings Landing did not matter here, and here as a man of the Nights Watch he did not matter to the rest of the world. But he yelled regardless. “A disgrace, I have friends. Important friends in the capitol, you'll see.”

He grew much more quiet when the one behind, which normally could be found in the group closest to Jon, slammed him down onto the block. Emerging from the hall last, Stannis begun to pace along the landing with sharp eyes watching as Jon grabbed his sword from his steward. Making his way through the crowd and he could see the intensity even from where he stood up above.

Whatever had occurred in that room, had pushed Jon Snow one step too far.

Still he thought, there was time. He could take this all away in a second by not committing to his own authority, and it was that slip of weakness which Stannis was watching for. Leaving here with that still within his morals would be a mistake. Stannis would have to burn that out from Jon should he see that weakness show, and he knew those very enemies keeping close would take every advantage of it before Jon could fix it himself.

So he watched as Jon stepped up to the man, pulling out that sword with a pommel which seemed to match him perfectly. Wondering who had gifted that to him, knowing such a lavish thing would not have come into a bastards hands of his own making. Someone else it seemed, had seen exactly what Stannis was trying to foster in Jon right now.

He was intense as he approached, but he was as calm and even toned as the father he reminded Stannis of so much. “If you have any last words, my lord. Now's the time.”

Like so many before him, Janos Slynt begged for his life with lies. Thus far, they had not impacted Jon, who stood with both hands across the top of the hilt, sword blade tipped to the ground. Had Mace Tyrell not surrendered that day in Storms End, Stannis guessed the image of execution would have looked identical then to father and son now.

But, Jon begun to raise his sword, when the final test came. Yelling out the word mercy, a crying plead for his life came about like all cowards do who cannot face the consequences of their sins. “I'm afraid, I've always been afraid.”

No words came from Jon. He had waited until Janos Slynts crying had turned his gaze from the Lord Commander and within a mere second, the sword swung and Jon Snow took his head. Handing the blade to the man next to him, Jon took a moment looking over what he did before the unexpected occurred.

Glancing to the side, right up to where Stannis stood. Seeking out his gaze, and despite his actions that of a nod, he could say with every truth there was pride as well. Jon did not shy away from what he needed to do, and did it with his own hands to ensure the statement was made.

Stannis still, was not sure what would convince Jon Snow to leave Castle Black and enter a fight within his own home, but he did know one thing with certainty. Stannis would not make the mistake of seeing him as an adversary if he did. He would be a formidable foe.

That was until the day in the lands of Deepwood Motte did you stand across from him in his tent, telling him the truth of why the North would never support Stannis's claim. And when word had been received, Stannis stood across from Ser Davos reading the raven scroll unable to stop that same feeling of pride.

So Stannis cleared the remaining Ironborn out of the Northern lands, as Jon now ruled in Winterfell as King in the North unifying the Northern Lords as one. Not a scattering of people fighting for what side to scramble too. One army, a real army. Uniting behind one leader, with one purpose.

At least that time Stannis had been the one to learn the hard lesson that he indeed, needed an ally more then he needed Jon as a subject. The one lesson he should have learned back when it was Robb Stark offering him the same deal, but only realized after the Stark had been murdered, and you and Stannis's unborn grandson with him.

“If you were a gambling man, your grace, I'd be curious to know how long you'd guess it'll take them.” Ser Davos knew exactly what Stannis was thinking, it seemed. Handing him back the raven scroll with a dismissive tone.

“I don't gamble, Ser Davos you well know that.” Before he had exited the room however, Stannis had turned his head to the side just enough for the man to still hear him. “Six months at the most.” By the time Stannis received word on Dragonstone, none saw the smirk on Stannis's face as he read the letter.

It had indeed taken Jon Snow exactly six months to marry you.

Theon Greyjoy was not blind to the manner in which he was perceived. In fact for most of his life he could likely pinpoint exactly what that image was when and by whom. Being the youngest of his father's children, he was cared about but was never quite old enough to gain the attention he wishes he could have had. Rodrik was the eldest and the favoured. If any of Balon's children were the most of what an Ironborn was made of, it was him.

And if Theon were to be honest, he cared little for him. Then and now. Violent and loud, and always was the one to push Theon as a boy to be tougher. It didn't get much better in his memories of his brother Maron either.

But if his little love for his brothers spoke of anything, it was that which stemmed from his father. A boy striving for the acceptance of his father, wanted him to see his youngest son as worthy, but it was never close to the attention Rodrik and Maron got. Theon was only a boy, but could never do enough. He hardly even saw his father for his earliest years. Theon spent much of his youngest ages with his mother, as his brothers had grown long since to be men and Balon considered that more important until Theon too was old enough to be a man.

Then he was in Winterfell. And no matter what he'd tell himself, it still was the best years of his life.

Scared at first or not, it was home. Was he a prisoner? Yes. But did he really feel like one? No. He never truly did. Winterfell was welcome to be his home, and he found no grime nor shame in his duty acting as Ned Stark's ward. He used to feel fear that one day, the cold Northern Lord would bring Theon out to the clearing and Ice would take his head one day. But that was only at first, whatever coldness was in him, was nothing compared to what he endured from his own father. His own family.

Theon was raised and trained in Winterfell alongside both eldest of Ned Starks sons, and some days it still hurt to look back on. Theon now could stand outside looking to the training yard, and hear his fathers voice shouting at him enraged about Robb.

“No, not here. Not in my hearing, you will not name him brother. This son of the man who put your true brothers to the sword. Or have you forgotten your own blood?”

But in truth, he did in a way. His brothers were his blood, and he'd never forget them. But that didn't mean he missed them. He didn't care that his brothers died not loving him, but he did care, he did hate, that the brother who meant everything to him, died hating him. Robb died thinking Theon was a traitor, and he was, but he died thinking Theon did it all to hurt him, to scorn him and his family. Robb died thinking that Theon didn't see him as his brother and it never stopped bothering him.

Ironic it was, that the man Theon truly saw as his brother, died to the sword of what became Theon's captors. And yet the brothers Theon didn't miss, died to the sword of the man who became Theon's captor. The man whose son became a brother to him, the man who Theon saw as the only father to him that mattered. And Balon Greyjoy knew it.

Theon had rationalized to him that Lord Stark was dead, and the first he saw of his father in almost thirteen years was as he asked him, “And how do you feel about that?”

What's done is done, that's what he said. And it wasn't an answer. Not for a second did Theon belong back on Pyke, but it all was too confusing in his head. Not a single one of them respected him, it was the worst light any had ever seen of him, and Theon made it all the worse by trying to impress those who didn't care.

But he was a Greyjoy. His blood was salt and iron, yet he still burned the raven scroll that day. Stood in the room that had been his once for over a decade, and upon reading the first words he had heard from his blood family in two years, he burned the scroll and never regretted it. The only one who may have been something of family to him had reached out. Had learned of the Boltons defeat, had learned Theon served in Winterfell as his own man once more and reached out to him.

Come back. Don't die so far from the sea.

Yara was the closest thing to someone he might have considered returning for. She didn't like him, or respect him, but she still cared. In her own way she cared. Tried telling him to return to Pyke instead of staying in Winterfell, and she tried coming back for him when she realized what happened to him.

But there was a difference in how she cared. There was one thing that kept Theon as a free man, from making his way to Pyke and finding Yara. It was beacuse she wasn't the sister he loved. You were.

Yara rallied men, came to find him, tried to fight for him. But in Theon's most broken moments couldn't figure out if Ramsay was tricking him. He had done it before. Tricked him into thinking a rescue was being made only to find his circumstances even worse. He was beaten and tortured, but the last time a rescue was made for him, it walked him right back into an even worse torture that left him mutilated and his own manhood, root and stem cut from him. What would this trick lead to that was worse, he hadn't wanted to find out.

So she left. She saw what was little more then a frightened boy, and abandoned him for being too traumatized to see she was there in honest terms. But you? Theon felt you had every reason to hate him. To treat him as cruel as everyone else had under the Boltons. But you didn't. At every opportunity, you found what little scrap of a voice Ramsay would leave you with and remind him who he was, and that he didn't deserve this. Would remind him that no one from his old life, not even Robb, would have wanted this for him.

You didn't want Theon to feel abandoned as Yara had actually done, without even knowing that day occurred. Theon knew the reason you lasted as long as you did, was beacuse of him. He knew the small, pathetic moments of genuine connection you two could have was the only thing keeping you from ending your life and he knew one day that resolve would run dry. Had Theon not helped you escape that night, he wasn't even sure you would have let yourself remain alive come morning.

You didn't give up on him, so he didn't give up on you. And that never stopped. The last time Theon felt like he had a purpose was at Robbs side, but now he found his new one. Serving at yours.

The only reason the people here had slowly accepted him back, was beacuse you demanded they respect him. You refused to let anyone slander him, or question his presence and freedom. You would not abandon him, you wanted him to have life, to have purpose and people. You two hadn't always been that way, but there was no other place in Theon's life for you other then what Yara had tried and failed to be. The sister who still cared.

So he burned the raven scroll. Yara had reached out to him. Begging him to return. Their father was dead, Balon Greyjoy was dead. Rumours that a storm had thrown him from the windy bridge to his death. She wrote of the Kingsmoot. The first in centuries. Trying to implore him to come home, if not serving at her claim for the Salt Throne, then that of their Uncle Victarion. He had burned that raven scroll after a few hours of debating if he wanted to tell you about it.

He burned the second one right away. Once more she tried. Their gruesome Uncle Euron had returned, and she spoke of his terror and the things he had done that day. That he had been chosen as the Salt King and his grandiose claims and delusions of conquering the lands. All Theon could think, was that if it was a plea for help, it was for a family who never respected Theon.

And if it was to ask him to join them under their new King, then she was as delusional as Euron was.

His place was here. His place was supporting the one person who he felt was family, serving the only rulers that had any worth in this shit hole of a world which was left. But you had been through enough, and Theon didn't want you in your state to think he might leave.

So instead, he told Jon. Neither of them wanted to keep things from you, but they were both worried. And the worry of Theon finally leaving, was not one either wanted you to have. As the two of them stood there that night, high up on the walls of Winterfell in the night sky looking out to the quiet woods, he didn't quite know why Jon was in the strange mood he was, but he was glad that not once did he question Theons intentions.

The two men were still figuring out where they stood in the others life, but at least, trust was there and it no longer had any doubt or question behind any of it. Even when talking about what Theon had done in this very place. Jon stood next to him, both men finding something of company in the other the past few nights a bit easier on their own. Neither of them actually wanted their interactions to only be comfortable if you were there to act as an in between.

They weren't close the way each had been with Robb, but that didn't mean Jon meant nothing to Theon. So he was glad he found it not difficult to be honest. “All he wanted me to do was raid fishing villages. He didn't trust me. Said the Starks had made me theirs, but I was given a choice. Prove myself or prove he was right. And I chose wrong, beacuse I thought, I could never be a Stark. Maybe I shouldn't try to be anymore, felt impossible to be standing next to Robb.”

He could see Jon just barley turn his gaze somewhat in his direction, a question no doubt on the tip of his tongue but Theon half shrugged at him. “His life fit him better then his clothes, and once I was on Pyke, it was hard to remember none of that really mattered to him.”

Voice low and rough, Theon felt the weight behind Jons words. “I know. I was jealous of Robb my whole life, was always everything I wished I could be.”

And yet, as the two stood there, one thing came to Theons mind. Catching Jons attention to look over at him, face twisted in a confusion, Theon almost huffed a laugh. “Funny thing to hear, when I'm the one standing here next to you.” Glancing at Jon, Theon tilted his head almost to implore him to see. “Think about it, I was born a Greyjoy. I grew up with as much as Robb ever did, true born son of a Lord, famous name, was stupid enough to think my father would win the rebellion and I'd have everything else I ever wanted. Then I came here, raised by the Starks. Spending everyday feeling as if I was like them, but not one of them.”

Both men stood there, raised by Ned Stark, but not a true part of the family. Both a little on the outside in their own ways and yet their directions found in drastically separate paths. Continuing, Theon found the path to the worst of what he had done. “I thought, Ironborn..that's what I was born to be. So I paid the iron price for Winterfell. And now two boys are dead beacuse of me. And beacuse of what I let them do, Robb died thinking I murdered his brothers.” Head dropping a bit, Theon filled with not jealousy or envy but a bit of a defeat in the truth. “But you? You've always known what was right. Even when we were all young and stupid, you always knew. Every step you take it's always been the right one.”

The weight in his voice, a lifetime Theon would know nothing about and yet he felt in his bones what kind of guilt and shame sat within it's tone from Jon. “It's not. It may seem that way from the outside, but I promise you, that's not true. I've done plenty wrong.”

Where it came from he wasn't sure, but perhaps it was the most honest he had been about it in his life if he thought about it. “I never felt like I belonged next to Robb, but maybe if I stopped lying to myself I'd have realized it was you I was jealous of. Whatever you regret doing, you still did it a better person then me. I didn't do the right thing until it was almost too late.” Your name didn't need to be said for both to know what that right thing really was. “Always felt like there was an impossible choice I had to make. Greyjoy or Stark.”

Theon wouldn't know, but that cut a little too close to Jons heart. Far too close, and it came out rough and rasping as Jon forced the words out before it overtook him too much in his own mind. “Our father was more of a father to you than Balon ever was.” Only a nod with a heavy swallow in Theons throat as Jon spoke. “But he's still part of you like he's still part of me, beacuse you're a Greyjoy and you're a Stark. It's not my place to forgive you for all of it, but what I can forgive you for? I did that a long time ago.” Your name slipping from Jons lips, “She did too. And I know she wouldn't blame for you if you choose to go to them. Especially now.”

“No. But you would.” Becoming Theon's turn to be quiet, it almost reminded Jon of his admission to you of what he tried leaving Castle Black after his fathers death. The quiet guilt and uncertainty in himself. “Right before Ramsay's men came in, Maester Luwin tried telling me to run. Told me there were tunnels he could get me to, and when I told him I didn't want to go back to Pyke he told me to go North. Join the Nights Watch, and I'd be beyond the reach of the law.”

Looking to him from the side, there was enough calm on Jons face that it felt almost strange to say, but Theon knew anger was something else once it became over Jon. But he still said it. “I almost did it, came close to agreeing to it. But in truth? I was too scared of you.” That caught Jons attention, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he looked Theons way. “I knew what you were like, and I knew for everything I had done, you'd have slit my throat in my sleep if I showed up. If I were lucky.”

He appreciated that Jon was as honest as he was. Watching the Greyjoy close as something only slightly closer to an anger was hinted at in the roughness in his voice. “That morning, when you two rode through the gates. If you came through without her? I might have done worse then slit your throat.”

“Wouldn't have blamed you if did. Wouldn't have blamed you if you hung me alongside those two men of yours even after bringing her to you.” But Jon didn't. He didn't do anything, and only continued to trust more and more in Theon with much bigger responsibilities since then. And Theon still didn't quite know how to thank him for that without coming off as awkward. The change of subject however, was welcome for both. “You think Lord Howland's right? About what's happening to her?”

Jon shook his head slowly. “I don't know. I don't know what it is, or how to help her.” But Jon did know, was that he did not like the sort of path it was leading you down.

Theon looked just as unsettled. “First you both come back from the dead, then you and Arya can control direwolves, now this? Didn't think winter coming would mean all of this shit was coming alongside it.”

Gloved hands braced against the stone in front of him, Jon only wished whatever was coming still would keep you out of it.

Some days if you thought about it, it was never winter which House Baratheon had dreaded, not in the way many did. In each home they lived within the lives of those you knew, the worst of the hardship from the cold was never quite as prevalent. From your girlhood home of Dragonstone, and the shores of your families ancestral seat Storm's End, to the vast harbour of King's Landing the last many generations of Baratheons always lived right by the sea.

Come the cold winds, it was food that was always the biggest concern and it was food which was not at a risk of running short when living by the waters of the Narrow Sea. It was cold, and fish was served more days then anything else, but it was easy when you could have the freedom to set out to the waters and catch what you needed. And raised with the resolve like a man such as your father, winter was simply more work but nothing dire.

Yet it was what every other place of the Seven Kingdoms dreamed off, that your family found in a lack of appreciation. Spring was what the Baratheons looked forward to the least. It had been the result of an event years before you were born. Your grandfather and grandmother had been returning home after a trip taken to Essos, if you had ever been told why they were there you hardly recalled it beyond the things which your father had told you, which was of it's end.

Spring brought harsh rains and winds to Storm's End and it was in a terrible one which Stannis and Robert had stood and watched what caused a horrible end to the ship returning their parents home. Steffon Baratheon and his wife Cassana had perished in the crash. Renly was too young to remember but he grew up without a father and mother both, it had thrusted Robert into responsibility far before he thought it would be his, something which sat almost like an omen to come. And it had left your father bitter, and without any faith left in the Seven.

Each time winter came to an end, it was never a prosperous feeling in your family. Spring had taken your chance to know your grandparents, and yet perhaps in your own mind, that may have been for the better. You had the advantage of foresight of course, to look back at your family and know what was a mistake and what had led you to the feelings you held. You too, knew that you were far too much like Robert in some ways, to think you could have ever seen the good in your grandfather.

There was only one thing which you needed to know, to come to that conclusion. Who your closest friends are is all too telling, and your grandfather's closest friends were that in Tywin Lannister and Aerys Targaryean. Both became cruel men who committed horrific atrocities never to be forgiven and it was difficult in your mind to move passed that.

A a girl, you would look to the waters when visiting Storms End and wonder, would your grandfather have sided with the Mad King? And now, in the home of Winterfell, you wondered if Steffon Baratheon would look down to the world, and realize that Tywin had organized a slaughter of what was once his oldest now dead friends own granddaughter?

Your family was nothing but scattered conflicts all caring about the wrong things compared to the rest of the world. So perhaps it was why as the days grew shorter and the dark of nights grew colder, did it feel strange to watch as preparing for winter continued to make Jon and Arya's bond grow stronger. Not that it had much stronger it could be, but they would somehow manage it. Or how Jon could discuss much of the far North with any in knowing better then you would ever grasp it.

He was a man truly of the North, and you were beginning to feel more out of place then you had in a long time in Winterfell. You were not raised with the hardships of Northern winters, you were not raised to work with those of your family as such a seamless ease the way the people around Jon all did together. There was nothing you brought to the table which helped better then others, all you brought was strain and confusion now.

A mystery had presented itself before your very eyes, but you had nothing to present to Jon, Sam, Lord Howland, or anyone which was helpful. Just more questions you didn't have enough understanding to even phrase. Some watched you with weary eyes waiting for you to snap, others looked with a pity that was too similar to how they looked at you under the hold of the Boltons, nor did you know what to say to anyone.

There were a few days things seemed fine, more then fine. But as soon as that last good night was over, it was as if Jon spun himself deeply right back into something more weary then before. And it only got worse now as the days since that dream of the stranger reached well over a week passed.

Quiet you had been all day, and for once you simply did not want to walk into the room and again see that deep rooted fear in Jons eyes as he looked to you. He'd watched you like a hawk since whatever it was that night and you didn't know how to make it stop. The looks, his fear, the dreams, any of it. Your mind was as much of a mess as your priorities, and so left. Moved to go do something, anything, to occupy yourself and stay out of everyone's way and worry. They didn't have to worry about what was happening with you if you weren't there to remind them.

Telling them where you would be, you had requested your guard leave you alone. “What dangers lay in the glass gardens so much, you need follow me in there?” No doubt they'd stay somewhat nearby, but if you didn't want to see them, you didn't want to hear them either. The dark of the sky made the reflections through the glass appear in a blueish tone with the moonlight against it, and you had gone over what was there in what numbers more times then any needed to.

It was an excuse, not many would look for you here and it was close enough to the crypts that perhaps you could find the courage to retrace steps you had seen. Your mind though, was too much still of a mess. More then usual. The pull to a self loathing tempted you at your uselessness and many times over it left you frustrated that new life had forgotten to grace you with what once made you a leader.

Now you hid from your own ineptitude at your Kings side, hoping you'd find an answer to something, anything, before more questions hurled themselves before your eyes. If you weren't helping run his kingdom, you were only adding to the mystery of the North before true answers were found.

Winter now was important, but you dreaded handling any of it the way your family dreaded the memories of Spring.

Eyes flickered up curiously to the main entrance as a smaller figure made their way inside. Looking in the dark until their shadowing form found your direction did you realize who had sought you out this time, though you said nothing. Let him come to you, you weren't one to push the subject onto others when it was their issues to work through.

Olly stopped a good few feet from where you sat, watching in as much trepidation as his stiff posture spoke of before pulling something small from his pocket. Wrapped up he glanced around once more before finally crossing the few feet to where you sat, he held it out instead of making eye contact. It was a slow exchange as you opened it to see he had brought you something to eat. The small grin was formed along your mouth before you could smother it. Flickering your eyes back up to him, you raised an eyebrow.

“Dare I ask how you knew I was all the way out here?” He shrugged still without making eye contact, and the uncertainty in his shoulders grew. The dark cold between you was quiet for a moment until you spoke between bites before you found it in you to grant a shred of mercy. “You don't have to stay if you don't want to.”

Surprisingly, his head shot up to see yours. “No, your grace that isn't-” The unchanging expression on your own face likely caught the boy somewhat off guard. It seems you weren't the only one whose mind inside their head was a bit of a mess. Glancing to the side, Olly tried finding the right words and failed to a degree. “I only- you shouldn't keep skipping meals. It isn't good for you.”

A lightness came over your heart enough to raise an eyebrow, tone softer then his as to not startle him more. “And you're going to tell me you're eating properly, yourself?” He didn't return the his gaze just yet, it had been a number of days since he had said more then a few words to you at a time. Reaching your arm out, the motion was enough to have him flicker his eyes only to what you held out to him, part of what he had brought you. That had him turn confused, as you stayed soft spoken. “You don't have to sit with me and eat, but if you're going to pester me about it then I assure you I can pester right back.”

He was quiet right until a more dramatic sigh left him, and you bit your tongue to hide the chuckle within your throat. Grabbing it he stood for only a second before sitting next to you, slowly and with an awkward hesitation but he sat next to you on a stones edge all the same. Luckily, he was used to you enough to know that no conversation at all was not an indication of uncomfortable in your eyes. He when in a good mood could talk away, but he didn't take your silence as the same the way you did his.

Only, for Olly, it was the few times he wished you would talk. The air around him stiff only after you had stopped filling the chilly air with a light degree of jest towards him. You could feel him peeking at your side profile before scurrying back before you could notice, but you felt it all the same. A mutter even quieter then the last as you gave him the privacy to not be forced to make eye contact, the gardens growing in the darkness was view enough. “Did you know it's a rare talent for a steward to know when and when not to pester those they serve constantly?”

Making no sound of reaction, you did feel him shift ever so slightly beside you, the only indication the boy was listening as you continued. “Truly it is. Now, most of my time in Kings Landing I had hand maidens but the roles function mostly the same. Attending to a lord or ladies need, only I had around five at any given time and there is only one of you. But trust me, those girls could find any and every reason to never stop talking.” Speaking between bites, you allowed Olly the grace of not feeling obligated to respond, you simply took it as a step that he was even still here. “About this, that, boys they fancied, girls they were jealous of, whatever gossip found them, they spoke of it. Eventually I got to the point I would start telling them to simply leave me alone beacuse I couldn't stand the hen chatter. Had to make it a rule that they weren't allowed to be near my chambers first thing in the morning or after dark beacuse the first and last parts of my day I did not want them to fuss over everything.”

Muffled through a bite of his own, Olly managed to summon the willingness to speak anything. “Did you have handmaidens during the war?”

Huffing a small laugh, you leaned back a little bit with a shake of your head. “Heavens no, an army camp is no place for them. Five pretty young girls, twenty thousand soldiers? Nothing but trouble. I did have a squire though, between myself and Robb. Came to us as part of a deal with Walder Frey to cross the Twins.” You said it so casually, but Olly looked over properly wide eyed.

Everyone knew The Twins and House Frey was where part of your story ended.

But you pressed on, the start of the war was painful in many ways, but none that dared not thinking about like three years onward approaching the bridge from the other side. Your voice was still light, and if not mistaken, hinting a bit of amusement. “He was to be Robb's squire. This young boy Olyvar, a few years older then yourself. Was to expect a knighthood in some time.” You chuckled to yourself, and you knew without any glance that Olly now was looking attentively at you. A sound these days almost no one heard, was anything like laughter from you.

“He was loyal, worked very hard, a bit on the airy side and it took almost two years for him to get the hang of knowing when to leave without being ordered too, but he was a hard worker. Robb had no bloody idea what to do with him, never wanted a squire, preferred either doing a lot of things himself or he knew he had me. But, I was used to giving handmaidens orders, so I started being the one Olyvar would go to. He'd listen to Robb, but he knew Robb wanted him to answer to me and to just leave him to his work.”

Surely this was the most you had spoken in one go, in close to months by now. You think, it too, was the most easy and casual tone you had heard on Olly since Barrowton. “The King didn't like being around servants?”

Shaking your head, there was a small smile on your lips. Not dark enough it was hidden, but it sat there soft and only for Robb, only for you. Not lost on Olly, that you never spoke of the late King in the North in such a personal manner in front of, to him, seemed like everyone. “Not that, he was the heir to Winterfell all his life, remember. He was used to being around servants, but the Starks weren't raised to be spoiled. Not the first born son that is for certain.”

A narrowed look in your eye only you could catch was a teasing mocking, “Lord Stark's first born daughter, now that is a different story. Sansa was a spoiled in her first few years, she was used to maids and servants. But Robb? He was fine delegating some things off, but he knew the pressure was always on him. To one day take over Winterfell, to be Warden of the North and he didn't want to do so having other men doing his work for him. Olyvar was eager to do more then Robb wanted him around for, and so he became more like my own squire just so he didn't lose his patience at the boy.”

You were quiet for only a moment before finding an honesty. “He'd like you, though. Robb. He would have enjoyed a steward around like yourself. Quiet, smart, quick, not afraid to show you care about who you serve without seeming pandering. Probably too, why Jon chose you.”

The easy quiet turned to a guilty quiet, but you knew the guilt for some things went both directions. It only was better to set it up as an even balance to put you on the same grounds as the boy. His voice hardly a murmur, “I wasn't a good steward to him. He explained why he was bringing the wildlings south of the Wall. I knew why, he and King Stannis would talk about those things in front of me beacuse he wanted me to always attend his meetings. But he came back from Hardhome, and he let the wildlings through and I let it get in the way. Barley said anything to him I didn't need to after that.”

Your voice held no accusation, “Can't imagine what that feels like.” You sensed him jumping to speak up, but you painted his own defence for him. “That wasn't a judgment, Olly. Just pointing out that if you have any plans on stabbing me anytime soon, I'd at the least prefer a warning beforehand.”

Sneaking a glance, Olly's face has twisted into a defensive frown before he caught the barley held back smirk at the side of your face looking more to him. Rolling his eyes, it made that smirk come out much more naturally. “If that was supposed to be a joke, your grace-”

“The sad thing, is that it was.” Olly laughed for the briefest of seconds before he shot a hand up to stop himself, but it only let you laugh much more easily. “I have many strengths, but humour is so far from the top of that list it's already sailed and landed across the Narrow Sea.” You felt his tensity, relax slightly as he let himself lean back against the flat stone beneath you both more comfortably, as your voice softened to match. “My point though Olly, is that you're good at this. You're a good steward, and that isn't easy to come by. Anyone here would be glad to have you at their service if you want to.”

Finally, his young eyes met yours properly. Something confused washed over with a doubt, “Your grace-”

“I know why you're upset with me. Truly, I do. But I'm not one to make you sit here and forgive me just beacuse it's easier that way. If you would be more comfortable serving someone other then myself, I'd rather you do that then force yourself to stay here beacuse you think you are obligated too.” He didn't blink, or even shift his expression but there was something bordering bright and upset there. Yours however, was only soft. “I like having you by my side, but not if it's only going to upset you day in and day out.”

His eyes flickered to there and nothing before he sighed and let them fly down to the ground. His hands now clasped tight together in his lap, likely to keep them from fidgeting too much. What he said though, quiet with something wishing to crack behind the tone, was not quite what you thought he would approach it with. “My mother told me to run and hide the same way you did. So I did, and she was killed right behind me. You told me to run and hide, and it got you kidnapped.”

You still recalled the way he recounted that day, how painful it was to get through and you knowing what it looked like was no doubt worse then what you could imagine, especially for a child. Looking gently at Olly, your voice was quiet. “You could have had sword and shield in hand, and she still would have told you to hide. Wanting to protect her is normal, but so is it for a mother to refuse that if it puts her child in danger. You living without her meant more then you dying to protect her.”

His silence hung in the air, struggling between looking your way and looking off to the distance of a memory. If he was about to speak though, you interrupted him.

“And I did what I did to protect you, I don't regret it and I'd do it all the same if we were to go back. I'm not asking you to like it, but that's how it is. I took you with me beacuse I know you didn't want to be left behind again, not so you could step in between myself and danger.” He was quiet for a good while, and you didn't blame him.

For his sake, you said nothing and looked away as he wiped what tears were wishing to fall. He inhaled deeply, nodding before finally moving to stand up. In the stillness of the night, you only watched him take more then a few steps towards the door before turning back halfway to face you. “I-” He exhaled deeply before coming back with a more stable confidence. “I don't want to serve anyone else. I'm only here beacuse you gave me a second chance and I don't want to throw that away.”

A small, soft sort of smile was given Olly's direction, he was a complicated boy and perhaps it made sense he was attached to someone as complicated in their own rights like yourself. You gave a single nod, softly muttering, “I'll see you bright and early then.”

“Your grace.” A small little bow before Olly left you be in the quiet and dark.

It took you a good while to return to the inside of the castle walls. At the very least, on a long list of things very wrong in your life you could say one of them was handled rather smoothly. The rest, not as simple to know where to start, and you weren't the only one.

Jon was worried about one thing, but you were busy looking out to where the crypts led down towards. If you checked, you'd have to find out one way or another if that dream itself was real, and if it was, you had a whole new question on your mind to add to Jons list of concerns. An unknown man who came here seeking something, and the question of how was the long since missing Benjen Stark involved with it?

Later into then night then he should still have been working, Jon was busy wracking his brain trying to figure out how his visions, your dreams and what now was happening to you all connected. It had to somehow, it had to mean something, but he kept coming up short on reasonable explanations. Much of that evening he had been with Sam, going through what he had translated looking for a single thing that might explain it all.

But the old powers ran deep and ancient, and some spoke of riddles Jon couldn't possible figure out the answers too even if he wanted to try. His visions of you years before were one thing, but this was something else entirely, and Jon didn't understand what about you meant you had to be dragged into it. Stark blood ran deep in ties to the North, so why was it bringing you into it by force?

Eventually, talk turned to what it always did. The storms coming for them.

“Maybe someone put it there a long time ago.”

Shaking his head, Jon looked over the shard of dragonglass in his hand. Most were close to a black, but this one sat a little closer to purple if he had held it up in the sunlight hours ago. “I don't think so, the way it's sitting down there looks like it was made naturally.” Your name slipping from his lips in thought, “She says it was from when the volcano flowed underground and when it cooled, it formed this.”

Sam had managed to come as far as learning the Children of the Forest used to hunt with obsidian, but how that connected to the rest of it, they couldn't figure out. “But if it's formed naturally, why call it dragonglass?”

“Because it's found in areas the world associates with dragons.” Both heads turned to the door of the study to find you, gently closing the door behind. Pacing ever so slowly as your eyes looked over the work scattered about the desk. “The dragons preferred to live in very hot places, and most of the time it lined up with where volcanic activity sat.” Grabbing a separate piece sat on the desk, you slowly sat down with eyes squinting at it, on one side of the table separate from both of them, Ser Davos not far near the other side of the room. “The Targaryeans didn't build the castle of Dragonstone, ancient Valyrians did. Could have chosen anywhere more mainland, even Driftmark but they built it by Dragonmont. I think, beacuse they thought their dragons would need the heat. The Valyrian Freehold was built all around volcanoes.”

The flames sat plainly across your eyes, the screams so faded from the world outside it and the molten fire spitting and flying as it boiled like a cauldron. Quiet for his own moment, Jon found a path of thought in his words. “That's why they chose there when they fled, they thought they needed it to hatch dragon eggs.”

Ser Davos spoke up in the same wonder you were following, “So why is only one out of the three things that can kill the dead, man made when the others aren't?” Now that was the true question, wracking your mind. It felt as if something connected a multitude of missing pieces, but the image was not yet even clear what or how much you were not aware you were still missing.

Sam proposing that possibly Dragonglass has something to do with Valyrian Steel but you shook your head. “You can reforge Valyrian Steel if you know what you're doing, but you can't reforge dragonglass. It's brittle and cracks easily under enough pressure. Even heating it up, you smash it with a hammer and it'll shatter.” Your eyes drifting to nothing trying to connect the image of molten lava and the thing in your hand. “They used spells and blood magic to make Valyrian Steel. Dragonglass has nothing to do with that.”

Both Sam and Jon glanced to the other, shatter was the precise word they would use to describe what happened when they killed one of the Others respectably.

The night was long and as many suggestions of truth came up in as many droves as questions which followed. For all of what you collectively knew, it seemed as if it was nothing in comparison to the storms they were all surrounded by. Come morning you hadn't let any of it go.

Looking through the books in Wolkan's study, your palms braced either side of the wooden surface outside the edge of a rather old book. This was the third you had gone through, and still none matched the image you had tried to recreate when searching for answers. Perhaps if you knew what the symbol meant, you'd know why Benjen Stark was hiding something where ever it was.

It was not easy, and you had on multiple occasions looked to him in doubt that perhaps you had recollected it wrong or drawn it incorrectly but Wolkan did not seem deterred. “It may not be as simple as a word.” Your eyes glanced up from how long you were squinting them down at the texts, “If it is a combination of words or phrases, a rune combines it into one symbol when condensed on space. We only have so much of what they left behind, it could be a combination of what we already know.”

“Or don't know.” Sighing deeply, you looked back at the page before flickering them up to the image once more. “I could be searching for something that doesn't even have an answer.” It had been a while, and your eyes felt strained looking at rudimentary drawings over and over again for as long as you had been in here and still no answers came. And you had too, come to closer to revealing the question flooding your mind either.

Sitting down, a huff released as your shoulders relaxed not in relief, but exhaustion. Wolkan took a quiet seat on the other side, eyes still just as sharp as yours no longer felt. Silly it had felt coming to ask him, but in truth, you supposed there was enough from the first day you met to tell you the man was more then willing to extend what was once more limited understandings of the world anymore. Much of that was going around now.

Wolkan was calm as he was reassuring, “Far more unusual occurrences have happened then this, your grace. Everything has an answer, but sometimes we ask the wrong questions first.” Your brows narrowed with a glaze over your eyes of curiosity mixed in confusion. Leaning a bit forward, you once more found yourself grateful that the Maesters you have known in your life never treated your knack for the bizarre with dismissal.

Drawing your focus for a moment back to the symbol you tried to recreate, you wondered if you could go back to it. See it properly once more, but without the understanding of if it came with the same risk you doubted how much any of it was even real. It was real enough Jon shared the same dream, but did that make the stranger real, you didn't know either.

Interrupting your stoic silence, Wolkan asked with a genuine prompting. “Do you know what the last task one must do before he can vow himself as a Maester of the Citadel?” Shaking your head, Wolkan pulled a candle perched not far off to sit between you both. “We spend the night all in darkness, with only one task. We must light three black glass candles. We are given no tools nor hints but what we have learned and we will sit in the dark until the sun rises trying to figure out the answer. Do you know how many I have known to do this?”

Once more you shook your head, nails somewhat digging into the wood as you glanced at the flickering flames as he continued. “None.” That got your eyes to whip up to his, your expression must have twisted more then you assumed as he chuckled at the sight. “None I have ever known has lit one of those candles, beacuse lighting it is not the purpose. It is not a test, rather one last lesson all men of learning such as myself must acquire. That no matter how much knowledge one gathers, no matter what reading and practising and work you do, there will be some things that are impossible. That you cannot force yourself to accomplish the impossible beacuse you want too, sometimes we must accept that we have our own limitations. Even if some do light them, it doesn't matter, beacuse it will not change that I do not have that ability myself.”

The silence was not uncomfortable, but it was heavy as your eyes drifted away into the distance against the flames once more. Still nothing. Only when you found the words to speak, did it flow so softly between you two that he wouldn't have heard any further away. “Presuming the lesson you are trying to tell me is not in fact, I should know when to give up,” Finding his once more, Wolkan was always quiet and in as much thought as you it seemed. “But rather I should stop trying to solve every riddle all on my own before going to others about it.”

He nodded once, but let you sit for the quiet between you, nails tapping at the drawing and your eyes drifting away again. Only once something of tension fell from your shoulder did he speak up to more then your muttering level. “I will bring this,” Reaching for the drawing only to pause as you realized in a moment he wanted you to let go of it. “To Samwell, see if it is something the boy has seen in any of his readings.”

Right as you were to leave his study, you turned back with a more lightness in your tone. “You really believe me? What I saw, what I've seen?”

“Eventually, the Starks are always right. Winter always will come. No reason to doubt what you say, more absurd things have come with the winter storms then visions and dreams, your grace. In comparison to what is said is coming for us, this is nothing.” It wasn't quite a smile he got from you, but a brightness in your eyes along with a nod before parting ways.

Telling yourself to focus one at a time, look first at what was right in front of you.

Only, you routinely were very talented at finding yourself focusing on things that made your head scream at you more and more the longer it went on. Though, you were all too well aware that such a side effect, was indeed the result Maege Mormont intended. It had to be how her daughters grew to all be a thick skinned as she was, a lifetime of growing up with this relentlessness would toughen anyone's resolve.

“This is why you never belonged in Kings Landing, you still cannot lie for shit.”

Face burying itself in your palms, elbows propping you up on the table in front of you. Every answer you had given her was dripping in a held back diplomacy as if she would take that at face value, which she didn't. And it only made her poking and prodding worse. Eyes peeking up to glare at her, you only muttered, “What possible reason would I have to lie about this?”

The look she gave you, were you not flustered, would have been priceless. Eyebrow raised as she tilted her head, a smirk forming slow to boot with too much knowing and far more teasing. Her voice matched all the same. “Because you're uptight.” That got your head to shoot up almost in protest as she pointed at you. “Oh, do you have a defence against that, beacuse gods be good I'd love to hear you talk your way out of that accusation.” The staring lasted all but five seconds before you turned your attention away from her as she continued without prompt. “I've known you good many years now, your grace. You genuinely care about the people of the North, and I know that means you're worried an honest answer would turn our opinions against you.”

Mumbling mostly to yourself, you still didn't look her way, embarrassment still fresh in your system from how much she was trying to call it up to the surface, the truth. “You made him King, you all still called me Queen, it was a logical decision.”

If a tease was on Maege's tongue, the tactic switched at the last moment. “I don't know what Ramsay Bolton did to you, nor is it any of my business. But I know what he said that day the King took his head, we all heard it.” Your jaw clenched, muscles in your hands tensing as they felt a fleeting need to expel such energy somewhere. “You are worried if we think anything other then it was only politics, that it means we will think that bastard was right. That you're some whore who jumped from one King to the next just to stay Queen.”

The air had gone from teasing to heavy to painful between you both. You valued Maege's company much but you also despised how quickly she would find the root of what you were not saying. Hardly a breath uttered between your whispered words, held back in any real emotion. “That's what everyone in the South would presume.” Maege quick to comment that this wasn't the South yet you found little comfort in it. “Why does it even matter? I married him, there isn't anything else to say about it.”

The quiet remained for a moment before she stood, moving towards a cabinet by the edge of the kitchens which remained thankfully quiet in the early afternoon. Two mugs she pulled out as you watched her speak while having one of the servers fetch her wine, her voice as serous as yours just had been. “I've had a lot of bad days, your grace. Being given leadership of Bear Island, all beacuse my nephew disgraced himself and ran away, knowing the rest of the North all looked at us as if we helped him escape. Learning my brother was murdered by a bunch of cowards beyond the wall. Worst of them was learning I was thousands of miles away from where my Dacey died. Not knowing if I could've done anything.”

Pouring the wine into the first, you looked away the last of your memories of her as clear as all of them you never saw again. Maege continued, not expecting you to speak quite yet. “Then all I could think of was, could I have even saved her? Or would I have been killed that night too. You never love your children quite the same way you do your first born. And all I could think, was that maybe she wouldn't have to die alone if I fell with her.”

Whenever she had walked back over, you barley heard it. There was so little about that night you still knew, and didn't want too. Your eyes unfocused as she put yours in front of you, voice thick and heavy as you could still see those mornings, almost something akin to a glint in your eye she could barley see as you watched nothing but a memory.

Breathless almost in tone, your chest tightened. “When we were still in Riverrun, I was ill almost every other morning. Like a ritual, I'd wake up far too early, make it down to the edge of the river and let it all up.”

If your memory searched back hard enough, you might have recalled an even earlier one. Ill for the first time, Maege and Catelyn both had been as comforting as they were amused. Drenched with sweat from how much energy it took from you, you looked back to both of them asking. “You did this five times? I'm ready to surrender before I've even had one.”

But you were in a different memory that time. “Dacey was always there. Always knew when to find me, knowing I didn't want Robb too fuss about it, so she ended up fussing about it with me.” Hands barley grasping the mug, you felt that almost smile come creeping a bit closer. “She was one of the last people who felt like a friend. Not a solider, not a subject. But she'd sit with me, make fun of me. Tell stories to distract me on the worse mornings. We felt like little girls sneaking about getting into trouble.”

Missing entirely, the brightness in Maege's own eyes. Her face, did not feel the need to hide nor smother down a hint of a smile on one side. Her tone as quiet, leaning forward. “Like I said, had a lot of bad days. But do you know what my first good day in a long while was after that? Seeing you standing there in my own damn home after more then a year knowing you were gone too.” Still more your chest tightened as you struggled to look at her. “I saw you alive and well and the first thing I noticed was how much Jon Snow was looking at you as if he didn't know what to do with himself the moment you walked away. Not once has he ever tried to hide what he feels for you. And not for a second did I want you to reject that beacuse you were worried how it would look.”

Things were different after that first night on Bear Island, between you and Jon. Not really for your insecurity. That has hardly changed a fraction. Taking a long sip before finding her eyes, yours hesitant and unsure. “I know you heard what she said, that night in Moat Cailin. That's what everyone else thinks of it, and why shouldn't they? Robb had been gone but a year and a half when Jon and I..”Putting it down roughly you shook your head. “Me being ready to find myself with another doesn't mean others think I should have. And I don't expect them too. I have their respect, I should be grateful with that alone.”

You weren't ashamed to be with Jon, or to be married too him. But perhaps you still had too much on your plate, still trying to take too much on at once, beacuse the longer the silence sat the more you felt lost as to what your point was in the first place. Maege however, sensed at least a little bit of that.

Standing up finally, a comforting hand ran over one shoulder as your gaze tilted up to look at her. Voice quiet for none but the two of you in the room to hear. “To keep the record straight, your grace, I wanted to know when things had happened between you two, beacuse if you were going to tell me it was when you were in my home, I would've been damn proud.”

A smack in a playfulness to your shoulder as she passed you by, you felt torn between laughing and feeling that unsure dread fill you once more. Why did your head feel such a mess lately?

Quiet in the moments alone until you sensed that feeling all too easily. Turning your head barley to the side as you called into what looked like nothing, “If you're going to spy I'd rather you do it to my face.”

Slinking around the corner, an indignant look sat upon Arya's face, twisted in annoyance as her voice raised in pitch, “How did you know I was there?” Your head only tilted with a flat look and an eyebrow up, pulling a sigh from her. Approaching the table, she sat in the seat beside you easily. “I went through all this work to be quiet as a shadow and you still can always tell when someone's watching you.”

A light chuckle ran through you, sipping at the water still before you. “I've known you since you were a babe, Arya. I know when you're watching me by now.” Watching in quiet for only a second before coming right to your point. “So would you like to tell me why you're listening in on my conversations, or am I going to have to guess until I find the right answer?”

Jaw ticking, she clearly debated in her mind what she would approach her answer with until settling on a path not quite direct as you asked. “I caught you and Jon in the stables once.” Your brows furrowing in confusion, she looked a mixture between bashful and somewhat amused at the memory. “It was years ago, you two thought you were alone but I was still there and I saw Jon kiss you.”

Perhaps once the nerves would have set it, instead an unusual stiffness in your muscles left you tense but your eyes narrowed at her in a hesitant look unsure where she was going with it. You weren't at all sure you even knew what she was talking about, despite how easily she recalled it.

A shrug in her shoulders, Arya toyed with the handle of the mug sat by her. “He never actually told me anything when I asked him about it. We both knew I knew, we agreed to never talk about it. But I knew.”

Once you would have felt the dread, you had felt it even just in the conversation prior but yet sitting next to Arya of all people, you felt something of a lack of nerves. Voice rather steady for what you had only just been feeling. “Which means you understand why we didn't tell people, or why things still aren't quite as simple now.”

Arya however, was somehow ever more blunt then she had been years ago. “It can be, if you stop being stupid.” Your head tilted, as your face fell more flat looking at her. A lecturing gaze that only she could so easily get away without feeling the effects of as she continued. “You two don't always have to make everything so complicated.”

Your initial quiet was not was she was expecting but was what she got for a moment regardless. That feeling deep in your blood that switched between freezing over in stillness and burning in too much at once a constant since that night. You came back and there was nothing and nothing until him and unravelling the why wasn't as easy as it was being told to you.

What you lost to get here wasn't simple, and so being here would never be either.

“You don't understand the luck you had, Arya.” Her brows furrowing, but you only glanced at her with a lightness in your eyes as they were far away. “Growing up with your mother and father, to you it's all easy. Love is easy, you always knew no matter what people said, what they had was real. No matter what was said about your father, none ever questioned it's strength. My family isn't so lucky.”

Your hands found one another on the wooden surface, trying to wring together as faces you long hadn't thought of properly passed you by in your mind. Arya watching with a curiosity as you continued. “Robert and Cersei hated each other. Slept with other people, just to spite one another. Renly was bedding another before he even shared one night with his own wife. My father was never unfaithful, but he and my mother have never loved each other.” Tilting your head your eyes widened just a bit in an exasperation. “Add living in Kings Landing on top of all that, and you begin to conclude that I've never quite been around many married couples at all that love one another, or are even faithful.”

Renly may have had somewhat of a reason, but it still was unfaithful. Attracted to her or not, Margaery Tyrell was still his wife and any and all rumours which reached your ears in the war told you that there was not a hint that Ser Loras had ceased his part in Renly's private affairs. Everyone of course, knew about Robert.

Your own father and mother may not love one another at all, but at least it did not complete a trio of infidelity that acted as if it plagued many Baratheon men in your lifetime. Your voice quiet as it muttered out, “The last thing I'd want anyone to do, is to think what I had with Robb was anywhere near as unfaithful or untrue as the rest of my family. And I know it looks like I've moved on as if keeping my title was what mattered.”

It was odd to Arya, not that you would have known. She knew of you and Jon, but not once did she ever look at you and Robb, or what she heard of you and Robb and think it wasn't real. The way the men here still talk about his late memory, it always involves you. You and him were always at each others side by the sounds of it and it seemed preposterous that any would question that.

But then again, Southerners it seemed, did not look at love and marriage in the same dedicated manner. She could recall her short time with the Brotherhood, hearing Edric Dayne tell her that her father fell in love with his aunt, before trying to speak of some woman he claimed was Jons mother. She remembered telling him angrily that her father only ever loved her mother. And it was true.

If she were younger, maybe she would have believed what he said about Jons mother in those days, but she was thirteen by then and far smarter then to believe this outlaw knew more of her family then she did. Her father didn't love some other woman, then marry Catelyn, then sleep with some wet nurse too, that wasn't what her family was like. They didn't see love and marriage as something so fleeting like these people did.

She knew that now better then any. That on top of everything her father was, she could strike out ever being unfaithful to his wife as part of him. The truth only made him even better in her eyes.

But she could tell, you worried that everyone else would think you saw your love and marriages in such a fleeting manner. Something about you now was different, but Arya didn't have the words to figure out why.

Some days were easier then others, and in that moment, it seemed you had found a happy medium between stress and amusement. Truly you told yourself there was nothing to laugh at. When you were a novice at something there were bound to be times frustrations rose especially in comparison to others around with more experience. A smirk was bitten back against your tongue trying to remain neutral but not for a moment did your eyes hide quite as well.

If he weren't up against a thirteen year old, it wouldn't be as difficult. Gendry had argued it wouldn't be as hard as it looked to learn the basics of archery, and yet you, Theon, and other spectators had given a multitude of advice and many times repeated it. Beside him, for every shot Gendry missed, Olly had gotten quite close to perfect.

Everytime they gave one another a glance, Gendry wondering if he was too old to get snarky with a child, and Olly sparing glances at you already knowing what mockings were on both your minds.

“Your spending too much time getting into position.” Gendry had turned back at that, looking at Theon like he was ready to just throw the bow at him. Despite Theon not at all finding any threat. “Most cases when you're out there, you're not going to have time to focus on your form you just have to expect by the time you get your aim locked you'll already be there.”

Gesturing beside him, arguing, “He's spending all his time on his form before he aims.” Theon however, just pointed out Olly hadn't been the one missing his shots and once more you glanced away save you get caught trying not to laugh at the expression on his face at such an observation.

The air around was cold, but it was an uncommon feeling for you there to feel any sort of genuine enjoyment in the middle of the day. The three of them bantering back and forth and taking easy jests towards one another, the dynamic of boys remained no different when or where or who they were. You get enough in one spot and eventually it seems they all begin to torment the rest.

Some moments you could trick yourself enough into thinking you were enjoying it, other times all eyes seemed to be off you and trickling in were the piercing eyes and bone chilling voice which made you shiver more then the outside cold. One thing at a time you were to focus on, but every few hours the stranger would crawl back to you and demand you shrink in at the fear.

Still, only Jon knew about that. How else would you say it to another soul, you'd be seen as out of your mind more then you already were. Lord Howland telling you what this was called did not make it that much more comforting.

What would you tell people? You have the sight, but there is no true explanation as to what it is, and what it means? You may as well tell your people you were but a fair maiden, weak minded and broken down into hysteria by the world around you. Talking of someone you saw in a dream you do not know as if they were real, wasn't the ramblings of someone with a firm grip on their sanity.

“Some days you remind me far too much of your father.” Your heart startling in your chest, you turned to the side where you had been perched to see your mother standing close. Voice a more quiet mutter just for you, but her eyes watching narrowed and curious at the same scene before you. “When you're troubled you both have this look, staring into the distance as if you're anywhere but here.” Glancing at your stilled gaze she added, “It would be intimidating if it came from anyone other then you.”

A deep hum in your chest came out in some sound as you looked away to the three of them once more teasing the other more then teaching and learning. “Once many years ago I might have considered being called unintimidating, an insult.”

Smooth and low her voice always was, a contrast to your weaker cracked tone the louder you'd speak sometimes. “Unlike Stannis, being intimidating doesn't suit you. I'm not sure I could ever imagine thinking he would look so natural being over here laughing and joking with these boys.”

Your that time slowly turned to her as your eyes squinted. Lips parting slightly as you let a bit of a smirk fall over your face. A smirk which caught on and found it's way too onto your mothers. “I'm not sure I've ever heard you make fun of father, before.”

Selyse however, only shrugged one shoulder. “You weren't around for those years. Your sister saw plenty of that.” Once the air would have been heavy between you at her mention, but it was less of that and more something simple charged between you both going unsaid. But did not threaten to suffocate either anymore.

A sigh left you, gazing back to the yard only to drop as you looked more to the ground. Voice low only for her, ignoring around you. “It's bizarre isn't it?” She could see your eyes flicker over to Gendry before returning back to her alone. “Whenever I used to try and imagine what Petyr would look like, it always ended up something like that. Only, he looks even more like one of us then I once thought.”

Her own silence thought for a moment, with Maester Cressen gone, she now was the only one remaining who knew the names you gave your brothers. Like you however, her gaze to Gendry didn't last long but it was narrow eyed as it was critical before coming to yours. “The only cousins you thought you had looked nothing like Robert, you had no way of knowing any proper children would take after the two of them so strongly.”

Lightness came over you as you could recall it, it had been a long time. “The last thing Jon Arryn had said before he died was the seed is strong. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what that could have meant until I saw him.” As soon as your mind put it together it was so obvious that day. “We spoke perhaps a few minutes before Lord Stark and myself realized who he was. How couldn't we, he stood there looking just like me.”

“No one knows?” Answering that besides Jon, no one else knew but the three of you and Ser Davos. A quiet moment she spent watching as if normal when what she said was not the direction you expected at all. “Part of me wished I could have hated Jon once we had arrived at Castle Black.” Quite good you both were at staying right where you were looking as if no conversation of meaning was taking place whatsoever. “The way your father looked at him, it was like watching for the first time him interacting with the son he never had. And I wanted to hate him for it, beacuse my husband could only find that in someone who wasn't even his by blood. In a boy I didn't give him.”

Silent you remained, not quite sure what she was getting at.

“Imagine how strange it is, looking at a boy who in every way is what you imagined in your own sons appearance, but the only one you actually have, is one by marriage that your father admired in such a way.” Your brows narrowed a small bit, eyes not truly looking at anything anymore as the cool breeze passed between you both. “Everytime I think our family couldn't get any stranger, you show up with a way to only add to it further.”

A small shrug on your shoulder, with little voice to follow. “I have a knack for it. How is that going by the way?” The smirk it seemed, returned just the slightest. “Having a son in law.”

Oh the flat expression of your mothers face only had you smother a smirk even further as you both looked away from the other in amusement. “Slowly. It takes time, getting used to seeing you married to someone so different then the sort of match I used to have in mind.”

It was your turn to twist in expression, “Dare I ask what kind of match you used to envision for me?”

Her face seemed to feel a doubt, as if trying to find words other then what she was thinking by the time she opened her mouth. “Simply put, someone a little more..” Eyes sharp towards her, you watched those same cogs turn once more.

Head tilting to the side a little bit, you let some audacity sit in your tone. “If you are about to respectful mother, I swear-” Claiming instantly that wasn't what she about about to say you jumped right back into it. “Then what word were you going to say?”

The pause lasted a few good moments before settling on, “Someone a little less rambunctious.”

She gazed at you from the side as you eyed her with a judging jest. “That is not what you were trying to say and we both know it. Besides, if you think Jon is too wild, I dare not imagine what you would've thought about the man my father married me off to in the first place.”

That time Selyse looked at you in a stern wonder but you merely looked away to the group once more ahead of you. No doubt whatever suitor she once had in mind, was incredibly boring in contrast to the two wolves which held equal sides of your heart.

Nights had a pattern these days, where you would end up and with whom. Any looking to find you or Jon only need search the study being used by Sam. The quiet of the night made it easier to focus on what was needed, and yet it also was more unnerving. At least now it was, the closer to night it got the more you couldn't avoid having to sleep. Ever since that night on the ship, you tossed back and forth between dreamlessness and horror before you and there was no control of it. But this was the first night you had properly delved into the Northern part of what you had seen in that dream.

“It's been a long time, but I'm sure of it. Those were the same ones.” Sam insisting that the symbol you had dreamt of was carved into a rock at the Fist of the First Men, where underneath it sat the cloak hiding the dragonglass. Pulling a scroll he had been in the middle of writing out, you moved to stand beside him. Hand braced on the desk as you leaned over with squinting eyes.

Jon however, hovered more by the window. Arms crossed over his chest you could tell that somewhere he was lost in thought but you didn't know what. You didn't blame him. It had been a very long time since someone other then himself had mentioned Benjen Stark, and it clearly was an untreated wound inside him that still hurt.

Leaning down to look at the writing closer to the flames you started to eye the translations Sam had worked on since Wolkan came to him. Muttering under your breath, “How do we go thousands of years and still not understand these?” Your other palm moving to join braced against the desk in thought as on the other adjacent side Sam watched closely.

His answer was easy, and with a confidence that you were thankful for. “Most Archmaesters at the Citadel question all of it.” Your head rising up to find his in question. “The oldest histories we have were written after the Andals came to Westeros. Once they came in, they established their own writing system and most things we know about the Dawn Age or the Age of Heroes were written by septons thousands of years later. By the time anyone thought to look at the runes used by the First Men,”

You finished his sentence as your eyes trained back on the paper. “No one was left who knew how to translate them.” It seemed like the markings you saw were a collection of words or phrases. As if what appeared as one rune, was really a collective of words which painted an image that meant what written language could say in a paragraph. Many looked like the other and it was clear Sam had spent much time trying to narrow it down. Muttering mostly to yourself as you looked it over, “I am not normally one in favour of shaming other cultures, but it sure is bloody inconvenient trying to figure it all out now.”

Jon, still further away faced your direction as his voice rasped out, “Maybe it wasn't meant to be read in Common.” Both you and Sam looked up at him, but there was already an answer to the question posed on both your tongues. “They spoke seven different languages north of the Wall. These symbols might be an combination of Old Common and something else.”

Narrowing your gaze back at them, you couldn't help the image in your head from coming up. One made in the snow in blood and bodies. Whatever connections your mind was trying to make, still felt as if you had a long way to go. Glancing back up, Jon once more looked away distracted.

Something other then your dream of his Uncle was bothering him.

It was agreed it couldn't have been a coincidence that Benjen would leave the dragonglass under a rune rock at the Fist of the First Men. It couldn't mean nothing, that didn't even make sense. He planned on going much further to the Frost Fangs, but made a stop by the Fist to bury dragonglass?

Why not leave it all at the wall, or take it with him? With every new answer, it felt as it it swirling in your mind until it stretched thin and split off into multiple new questions you didn't know even once connected. Planning a war felt like a tray of cakes next to this.

In truth you think he barley noticed by the time you came up behind him. Palms gently sliding up his back and digging somewhat into the tense muscles, until you felt Jon relax with a shaking exhale to follow. Your voice low as you stood more on your toes to try and lean over his shoulder, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Silent for a moment, instead Jon chose to reach behind him, beckoning you to stand in front of him to the night sky. Back now up against his chest, one hand holding firmly at your waist as the other wrapped around your stomach to pull you firmly into him. One of your hands grasping at his fingers by your stomach and the other pushing the material on his forearm up to run over the skin there.

Jon pressed his head against the side of yours, rasping in a low mumble in the now empty room of only the two of you. “Do you know what one of the first things Mance Rayder said to me was?” Shaking your head no, he sighed deeply. “Right away he knew I was Ned Stark's bastard.” Your mouth parting ever so slightly, an unsettled chill in your blood as their was his. “Being a Snow doesn't mean anything north of the Wall. Knowing my name shouldn't have..the second I walked into his tent he already knew who I was.”

Very little Jon liked to talk about his time beyond the Wall, a lot you suspected he didn't want to hear, didn't want to say. It was hard to get an actual answer but you grasped at what straws you could. “Benjen was First Ranger, if he knew him he might have heard-” You could feel him shake his head against you though.

Hand on your waist smoothing up and down the warm material covering you, you could feel him looking a bit more down at you from where he stood. “He knew who I was because he'd seen me before.” Asking where, Jon gave only one word that made your body freeze. “Here.” If anything, Jon pulled you closer, his forehead resting against the side of yours as he leaned more down into your leaning back touch. “The man in the crypts, in your dream, the night of the feast. It was Mance.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

You felt him look somewhat behind for a moment, as if struggling to decide moving you both or staying right here but he ultimately found the fair strength. Turning you slightly so the arm around your stomach slunk to your lower back guiding you to one of the chests near the corner. Keeping you there, Jon knelt down as he moved to unlock and rummage through it. “Qhorin Halfhand said Mance was having groups of Free Folk dig around the Skirling Pass. Looking for something. When I met them he they claimed he had what he was looking for but I doubted it.”

Arms crossing so your hands could smooth over the other as the chill of the night felt just a bit worse when not pressed close to Jons warmth. “And what was he looking for?”

Standing up, still wrapped in a Nights Watch cloak, you both moved so he could rest it against the table. “When Sam found the dragonglass, it was wrapped in this. But that wasn't the only thing with it. If my Uncle hid this, I don't think it was the daggers he was hiding. I think it was this.” Unravelling it, some kind of horn sat inside.

Ivory in some places, but most of it was made out of bronze, dark runes carved into it with a delicate care. Not much bigger then the size of any normal dagger. To most it wouldn't have stood out but for where it was found, it certainty was. Trying to ask what this had to do with Mance, Jon turned it in his hand gently as he rasped deeply. “I think he was looking for this. I think he came south of the Wall to find this, but the night of the feast, my Uncle got to it first. So he lied, and said he had it to convince his people to listen to him.”

His eyes looked over the runes, but yours drew up to look at him with a wide gaze. “That's why he knew who you were. Why he knew where to look in the crypts.”

Grey eyes shining bright found yours, and only an unsure silence sat between for a moment as Jon attempted to find a muttering voice. “The Free Folk called it the Horn of Winter. Something that could bring down the Wall.”

If only a small mumble, your eyebrows raised a bit as you looked back down at the bronzed artifact laying limp once more. “Seems a little dramatic if you ask me.” Not expecting the chuckle coming deep from Jon next to you, you found yourself leaning a bit more into his side, as if drawing closer to the rare sound. His arm wrapped around, pulling you close as if sensing the second you moved.

His face twisted trying to think it through as you were, “I don't know if I believe it can bring the Wall down, but it's important enough that everyone was looking for it.” He didn't need to elaborate, and you didn't ask him too. “Sam had this on him when they were attacked out there, and they left him alive. Killed two hundred of my brothers but they walked passed Sam and let him live.”

Despite all the war you had seen, it was hard to envision the kind of battles Jon had seen. Two such drastically different fights that you both found yourself in for so many years and yet his was inconceivable in what it must have looked like. “You think they knew he had it?”

Inhaling, he didn't pick it up, but turned it slightly over with his free hand. “Or they could sense something. Old Nan used to tell stories about how the Wall is protected with magic. If her stories about The Long Night are true..”

Hesitating, you came to as blunt a conclusion as one could. “I'm beginning to feel rather sick of this, everywhere we turn now something else has to do with magic. Who knew fighting a war in enemy territory was going to be the most simple part of my life.”

Wrapped back up and locked away, your palms were braced against the wood behind you as you leaned against it. Looking up at Jon as he stood somewhat before you, head just as loud as yours. “If what Lord Howland says about your visions is right, something was trying to lead you to the answers. Whatever is giving this to you, wanted us to know my Uncle hid those before he disappeared. Just not why.”

It was a risk of a suggestion, but you gave it anyways. “If I learn how to control it..” Jons gaze shot up narrow and a blatant disapproval on it as you continued. “I might be able to go back to that vision and learn something..” Saying your name in warning, you shook your head barrelling past him. “It can't be a coincidence, too much of what I'm seeing feels like it is supposed to connect maybe the gods are trying to help guide me to give you the right answers..”

Jon repeating your name, the second time a hand tilting your jaw and cheek up to meet his eyes, a brightness in them that begged to be listened to with a sorrow. “It's not safe, letting you do that.” If he expected a protest, which he didn't, Jon let the opportunity come and go before continuing. “What if he shows up and I can't protect you? What if this gets worse, Lord Howland said these things took a toll on his son..I'm not going to let anything happen to you for any of this.”

Your eyes didn't meet his for a moment as they drifted. Hands tensing and relaxing against the wood before slipping your eyes shut. Exhaling deeply almost as sigh before finding Jons grey eyes once more. Unfair it was, how easily your shoulders dropped in strain at such a close sight. Lightly, you let your hand run along his wrist, pulse strong as it always was. “You don't want me to fight, but you don't want me to even help you here. If I didn't know any better, a girl may start feeling like she's not trusted.”

A step closer to you, Jon tilted his head with an almost jesting sharp look as if to challenge you on that one. “I can't trust you. You're too selfless sometimes for your own good, and now I can't trust you to not throw yourself on your sword for me.” There wasn't malice or judgment, but almost a deep affection. His other hand reached up to pull you into his chest as he stepped up close to you, your own hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders as he helped you stand against him straighter. Voice low and rasping but close that you could feel his warm breathe dance across your own skin. “You might be the only girl I know that makes taking care of you difficult. Aren't Queens supposed to be waited on hand and foot?”

Raising an eyebrow you took Jon off guard, pressing a kiss to his cheek before he could get much more snarky. Whispering gently, “Says the King who refuses to let his wife do any of the hard work no matter how much she tries.” Running your hands down the leather across his chest, you wished it sounded more sultry from you voice but really it only dipped back into a rough sincere tone. “You're good at this, Jon. Being King? You're great at it.” Finding his eyes, he trusted your intentions, to not interupt with what normally is a dismissal in insecurity. “But I don't want you doing everything on your own. Not when this time I know where's things I can do to help.”

Still, it felt as if Jon was holding something back but you didn't want to press it. He had more then what he deserved weighing on him and pushing him didn't make that better. Instead, you simply followed his lead as he leaned in to close the gap between you both.

His lips pressed gently against yours in a mere chaste kiss, both of your hands wrapping around the back of his neck. His hair all pulled back it let you scratch gently along the skin there, pulling a deep rumbling from within Jons chest. His hands cupping your cheeks, he pulled you up to tilt to his mercy but didn't deepen it in any way.

Light tracings against your lips was all he gave, both of you savouring how soft and warm you felt wrapped up with one another as such. Pulling away, Jon gave into weakness, pressing one more small kiss to your lips, then your forehead before resting yours against his. Thumbs running along the skin of your cheeks. “We'll talk to Sam about it, see if he's found anything. Tormund's back in a few days, he knew Mance a long time. I'll see if he knows anything about the horn either.”

Nodding absentmindedly only for a moment before you stopped. Nails stopped scratching and your eyes opened with an amused jest in them. Glancing up as you pulled back slightly, still in his hold you opened your mouth but Jon knew your attitude far better then that. Cutting you off before your first breathe with a rough, “Don't.”

Your laugh had him smirk in an instant. But your only comment in return, had Jon almost haul you out of the room with a brute strength as if about to pick you up and throw you onto the bed the moment he got you to his chambers for that one. “What? Afraid distance has made my heart grow stronger?”

Only, his hands on your hips as he leaned into you, did the door open and a loud voice shouted out with as much amusement as it had disgust. “Seven hells, you do know you both have a bedroom to do this in, right?”

Glancing over, both you and Jon with a matching narrow eyes glare towards Arya as she leaned in the door frame looking as if the parent and you both the caught children. Jon spoke flatly at her with as much jesting attitude, “Or you could turn around and close the door.”

A roll of your eyes found it's way fondly onto you as just as quickly, Arya playfully snapped right back with not a care in the world. “Other people live here, why can't you go be disgusting somewhere private?”

Both Starks now trapped in their own game of see who will give each other more snark first, it was likely neither of you were making it to the bed as quick as Jon previously intended. Once he and Arya got started bantering back and forth, there was little which could stop it, and having you in the room only made it worse. Not quite the picture of stern, formal members of the ruling North you three were.

There were many things Jon didn't yet know how to tell you, but the one he was thinking of now, was undoubtedly the dream he had.

One that felt real and yet strange as if he walked in lands he should know. The cold wind blew around Jon as steady as it was far too cold. Air flying through his hair and feet touching the snow and ice below. Yet he felt none of the pain which should come with such a sensation. Around him was ruins, but it was more then that.

They sat beneath a great cliff which sat just below dark cave mouths. Around it so high was charred trees, half living most merely statues of black wood which remained in what used to be. The scattered wilderness which could survive this far north was overgrown in such beyond. Expanding far and wide with no sign of life around such high peaks. Yet down below where he stood spoke a story vastly different.

Buildings once stood here, he could see their remains as well as the bones which were littered about from one end to the other. The stench of death was long gone and yet he felt felt it all around even in the empty dark. Some places looked new yet abandoned still. Cabins of fresh wood and yet it sat as if none would touch such a haunted place. Leading down to the freezing waters, a small spot like a dock sat where ships and boats once may have existed.

But they too, sat empty. This used to be a settlement, one Jon could envision with such activity and yet there was something about the cold and dark that drew people away. Or was that really it? Did it chase its villagers off, or did they get up, and walk away?

Beacuse if it wasn't a striking cold that set him off, it was the kind of dark that oozed around him.

Walking forward, the signs of life continued to hide. What was once here echoed as a ghost that no longer could be seen with easy eyes. Spots in the snow and ice sat black and he knew were a light to be shined upon it, it would sit a deep reddish brown in that of once blood. There was much of that. Weapons sat scattered around all in the same states and yet not enough to explain what seemed to once be carnage. But there were no bodies. At least, not anymore. What was once here, had stood up and left.

Hardhome had not looked like this when Jon left it, but in this strange otherworldly version of it, this was all which remained.

A darkness drew his grey eyes up to the night as he approached the docks. As if the skies shined with a greenish tint. Not overtaking, but wavering like they were painted into the night and moved along with the winds they blew. If one flew close to it, the green felt not bright like the sights of wildfire. This green was dark and memorizing, as if any could reach out and touch it, it would overtake him and simply draw him into their depths.

The black of night sat around the moon and stars but they, themselves, were hardly visible against the green. Shining like it was the reflection of the waters the sky sat above, green was like it poured into it and begged to draw one in. It was not a green to fear, but one to marvel. Only the kind of green he had ever seen before, sat within the colours of your eyes. But it was shimmering in the sky like milk poured into it.

Not bright and striking, not wild and terrifying, but a subtle green which only sat to exist and nothing more, but it was what drew Jons eyes wide none the less. Never before did such a shade colour draw his attention, when not you. The red comet had flown over the lands of Westeros many years ago and not once did it captivate him like the green over this far Northern land now. It appeared to shimmer in some places, but it looked as if the sky had been this way for thousands of years.

But the sea did not freeze over, some waters did but it sat open to the world as if begging him to jump in and see. Yet Jon guessed the water while not frozen over, would indeed freeze a mans blood as good as it would any. Something had taken over this place in this dream. Hardhome was empty in the real world, but in this dream, someone else occupied it.

Jon looked up to the green in the sky against such unusual cold and it wasn't until his eyes grew heavy and on edge, did he turn half way to look. Up right at the top of the cliff, not many, not even some. Just one stood on a horse so high he could barley see but a shadow. But it was tall, and glowed against the cold night and a weapon sheathed against the horse was like a crystal of ice.

The creature looked down to Jon, and it felt shivering. He had seen this one the last time he was at Hardhome. This one had looked him in the eye, and with the raise of his arms, all of the dead rose with him. He watched Jon from a high edge now, in a dream, as if they shared it together. As if this creature could share Jons dreams, the way he was learning he shared yours.

Did he bring this dark and cold, Jon did not know. But he did know, it's kind was why none lived here anymore. Half of the people once here, lived in settlements in the North he ruled, the other half walked with blue eyes and no mind of their own in a never ending army.

One more thing Jon didn't know, was why in the far distance, could he hear the cawing of a crow.

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

[labyrinth-runner]

Merry Christmas, Darling

Okay so this is technically centered around Coruscant's winter Fete week for New Years so technically NOT christmas, and the song has no bearing on this piece of work but this is my christmas present to you darlings, so.

Summary: Reader is a senator stuck in Coruscant and misses their family's get together, but a certain Jedi happens to find them and make up for it.

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Words: ~1900

Warnings: None

The holidays were always rough. They required so much traveling to visit aunts and uncles who really didn't know anything about you but still felt the need to pass judgement. You were almost relieved when the senate called for an emergency meeting. You'd volunteered to stay behind to represent your faction so that Senators Amidala and Organa could go home to their families. The meeting hadn't lasted long. It was the warmonger's attempt to prolong the war while those that wanted peace weren't around. They lost the vote, but you'd lost most of the day and oh no, now it was much too late to attempt to make it home for the holiday. Sorry, Aunt Migante.

Your footsteps echoed off the walls of the Senate as you made your way down to the ground level, your hood pulled well over your face. It was a holiday, so you knew most of the places you normally went to would be closed, but you hoped that at least one would be open.

It was.

Dex's Diner was always your haven. You didn't know how he managed to make some hole in the wall feel like home to people from all walks of life, but he did.

"Dex, thank you for being the only reputable establishment open today," you called, falling into your normal booth towards the back. The window covered half the booth (the half you didn't sit in) so you could see out, but it was hard for those outside to see you.

"Reputable is debatable, kid," Dex called, leaning out the kitchen window. "You're not going home for the holiday?"

"And miss out on your braised shaak roast? Never," you said with a smile. You leaned your elbows on the table, resting your chin on your hands and added, "The senate had an emergency meeting. I'd arrive much too late even if I left now. Besides, I'm not missing much. I'm unattached and don't have any kids of my own. My parents are probably relieved that they don't have to host me on top of everything else going on."

Dex tsked at you. "Don't take family for granted."

You caught site of a familiar brown cloak coming towards the door. Dex grinned wider as the new patron came through the door.

"A Senator AND a Jedi? My humble establishment must be on the up and up," Dex said. You could hear him chuckling above the scrape of the spatula on the grill.

Raising your mug of caf at Obi-Wan in a mock toast, you said, "Welcome fellow traveler."

Obi-Wan smirked, sliding into your booth. "You're in my seat."

"I was here first." You took a sip of caf. "What the kriff are you doing here, though? Don't the Jedi do something to celebrate the holiday?"

Obi-Wan's smile faded. "It hasn't been the same since Qui-Gon. He used to love Fete but now it's a reminder of another year without his guidance."

"That's not a very Jedi-like thought." You teased.

He shrugged. "My master is one with the force. I have learned to let go of most things in life, but you cannot help but miss things, still. It's just a matter of not dwelling on it and letting it ruin you." He leaned back in the booth. "Things come and go, Darling, but the force continues on, and so should we." He raised an expectant eyebrow at you. " Why aren't you going home?"

Now it was your turn to shrug. "Meeting ran late. Too late to go home now."

"I'm sure your family wouldn't care when you showed up." As long as you were there. He didn't say it, but you could feel the implication.

You sipped your caf as the waitress droid placed two roasts in front of you. When she left, you leaned forward towards him. He mirrored your movements. "I don't want to go," you murmured.

"Why ever not?" he asked, his brows raising into his forehead.

"Because I don't want to face their judgment." You sighed.

"You are a galactic senator of well-renown and you are greatly respected. Why would they ever judge you and how could they ever find you lacking even if the did?"

You looked at your roast, cutting it into smaller and smaller bits with every word. "Because I'm not married. I don't have children. I don't have an ounce of talent at the family business." You dropped your cutlery on the table. "It doesn't matter that I am the voice of the people. What matters is that I don't live like them."

"And what kind of life is that?"

"One where your fists matter more than your words and the blood, sweat, and tears you pour into the earth mean more than the contributions you make to bettering the world. We're supposed to care about our own before you go helping others. I never quite agreed with that philosophy," you admitted.

The two of you ate in silence for a few moments before Obi-Wan placed his fork down. "Well, are there any traditions about your planet's Fete that you miss?"

Chewing the roast, and letting the warm spices coat your tongue, you gave his question consideration. "I miss baking the Lemba breads with my grandmother. She was the only one who ever took me seriously."

"How long has she been gone?" His voice was gentle. You knew he understood.

"Almost ten years," you said, feeling hot tears slip down your cheeks. You dipped your head and hastily rubbed them away with your hands. "I'm sorry. I haven't thought about her in a while. Usually because it feels like this when I do."

He reached over and placed a hand on your shoulder. "How about we finish our meal and make some Lemba bread together?"

"You know how to make it?"

"No, but, Darling, you know I'd learn anything for you." He smiled, and you wanted to kiss him.

The thought clanged through you. Obi-Wan had always been a friend to you since you came to Coruscant and he was assigned to protect you on your diplomatic trips. Obi-Wan had always been there, and even now, even here, this was a space that belonged to the two of you, meeting here almost monthly on accident at first, and then on purpose as you made more and more trips here in the hopes of seeing him. Deep down, you knew that you'd come here today hoping to find the comfort of Obi-Wan's presence. He just had a way of making you feel at ease. You spent your whole life listening to others, but Obi-Wan made you feel heard. Obi-Wan, with his chin dimple, and his beard that tickled whenever he leaned in to whisper complaints about the senate to you during meetings. Obi-Wan with his strong arms that pulled you out of danger more times than you could count. Obi-Wan with his heart of gold that you knew could never be yours, even though the realization that he had yours crashed through you like a wrecking ball.

"I like that idea," you finally said, realizing you'd been silent for too long.

He nodded and you continued to eat, answering the occasional question about what Fete was like on your homeworld and what other traditions you missed. You thanked Dex for the meal, and made your way towards the door.

"I'll meet you at your apartments," he said with a secretive smile. "I have something to take care of first."

You gave him a quizzical look, but didn't question in. The closest shop that had what you'd need closed in an hour, so you took off, getting what you needed. Getting back home was more difficult, trying not to lose your loot off your speeder. You stayed mostly close to the ground, choosing to land at the bottom of your apartments and ride up in the lift as opposed to braving the fast paced traffic to land on your balcony.

Music was playing as you got off the lift, and it was getting steadily louder the closer you got to your house. It still didn't prepare you for the inside of your apartment. In the time since you'd parted, he'd managed to decorate your house in lights and candles, just like tradition mandated. Garlands swept across the ceiling, pieces of tinsel dangling down. The culprit himself, caught tying a small green bunch of herbs to the middle of a garland.

You cleared your throat, and he turned to you, blushing.

"I was hoping I'd have a little more time," he admitted.

Your eyes narrowed at what he tied up there, and began to laugh as you realized what it was. "Do you know the purpose of that?"

"You never really said. You just joked about how your cousin stole it one year to take to school. What's the tradition behind it?"

"I could show you," you murmured. You were flirting dangerous territory and you knew it. He didn't. You stepped into his space, running your hands up his chest. He took a deep breath in at the contact. No, you couldn't kiss him like this. Not without him knowing. "That little bough of herbs was said to bless the union of all who kissed under it. "

His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed that knowledge. But he didn't step away. Instead, he raised a tentative hand to your cheek, stroking his thumb along your cheek bone. "Well, you can't say no to tradition, Darling."

Your eyes widened as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips. It was soft, and then he went to pull away. But, you couldn't let that happen as you'd barely reacted. Your hands fisted his tunic on either side of his chest and pulled him back down for a searing kiss. His arms looped around you, pulling you flush against him. You nipped the bottom of his lip and he opened his mouth, letting you explore. His hold on you was the only thing keeping you upright as you pulled apart since your knees were weak beneath you.

"I...." you trailed off not really knowing how to put into words everything you felt.

"I know," he murmured. "I feel it, too. I've always felt it."

"Felt what?'' you asked, stroking your thumb along his exposed collar bone, his tunic having slipped a little loose by your grip.

"That you're my family," he admitted. "When Anakin was little, he was always just a nuisance, but there was that one time on--"

"Alderaan?"

He nodded. "When you were meeting with Bail and challenged him to a skiing competition but we lost the rest of the party and got snowed into that little cabin. It just..."

"Felt right?" you finished, remembering how you'd all fallen into the domestic life so easy for the three days it took for Obi-Wan to clear the snow enough that you could get back down the mountain."

"I hadn't felt that way since Qui-Gon. And then you were there in the diner on today of all days... and it just felt like a sign," he murmured.

"I think that was the real reason I couldn't go home," you said, tipping up to kiss him on the cheek. "My real family was here."

He cleared his throat, a smile on his face. "So, now that our union has been blessed, shall we make some Lemba to celebrate?"

"I like the sound of that."

"Happy Fete, Darling."

"Happy Fete, Obi-Wan."

#obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Candy Coated [Chapter One] Even in Death [Buddha]

A/n: this is the first chapter of the Buddha (ROR) story that I’ve been mentioning for a week or so now. It was inspired by the one-shot that I wrote ‘Lost in Paradise’, and this story basically follows the same idea. 

I waited to post this chapter until the poll went down, which asked about the gender or lack of gender of the Mortal Reader. 65% of 52 voters voted for the reader to be a female and 35% voted for the reader to be gender neutral. I have the screenshot in case anyone wants to see it, though to be honest, I did my best not the mention the gender of the reader at all unless I need to. So, with the voting done, the reader will be female. Thank you for the support and for the votes.

There is a tag list below; if you would like to be added to it in order to keep up with the story when I post chapter, please let me know so I can add you. I plan to update this story as often as possible with two other stories I’m working on, so please be patient. Read the warning tags and enjoy.     

Words: 2,139

Tag list: @tojibreedingme​, @quinloki, @yingxian, @2lottie2

Warning(s): soulmate au, reader insert, mentions of death, female reader.

No Minors Allowed!!

Fear devours you, tightening your muscles in a way that leaves you powerless and frozen.

You honestly don't remember much; the siren woke you, but it was far too late to evacuate. The storm had been far worse than the news had reported; it had become a category 5 before anyone even knew what was happening. You had tried to shelter yourself indoors as the powerful winds rampaged outside, but it wasn’t enough and the walls came tumbling down.

But somehow you had wound up outside, sitting amongst the wreckage.

This can’t be right. It's silent; the entire world around you. It's almost like the noise had been drained. You can’t hear the wind screaming in your ears or the houses as they are torn asunder. In a way, it’s peaceful, but the silence is also frightening. Especially with your body lying meters away from you, caught beneath the rubble of your cheap apartment.

Why are you looking at yourself?

"This is terrible," a sincere voice utters.

You avert your attention in the direction of the noise, drawn like a moth to a flame, and see a teenage girl with short lilac hair standing in the middle of the road; her aqua-green eyes are filled with tears as she stares out at the chaos.

"The Gods have no mercy," she mentions. "There are so many souls here."

What is she talking about? You raise a curious brow, glancing at your body once again. The reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks and tears gather in your eyes.

"I'm dead."

The sound of footsteps brings your attention back to the teenage girl to see her approaching you. If you are dead, is she some sort of reaper? You dart to your feet and take a cautious step away from her, but she raises her hands in defense.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I was sent to help."

"How?" You ask in disbelief, motioning toward your body. "I'm dead. How can you help me?"

She narrows her eyes in sympathy.

"I can take you to the afterlife where you can move on. I'm sorry, but there isn't much else I can do for you."

So, she is a reaper. She doesn't look scary at all, but this doesn't mean that you trust her; a point you emphasize by peddling back as she takes a cautious step forward.

"My name is Göll. I'm a Valkyrie; a demigod. Um... you know, like––"

"I know what a Valkyrie is," you mention. "It's the 21st century."

What you don't understand is what a Valkyrie is doing here. Are they not mere legends? They are specific to Norse mythology, or so you had thought. Realizing that she has been prattling on the entire time about something you haven't been listening to, you raise a hand and stop her.

"So, you came to take me to heaven... or Valhalla–– whatever you want to call it." You ask.

Göll nods.

"Well, not just me. My sisters came here too." She takes a brief look around and frowns. "This was a tragedy. There are more souls here than I can handle on my own."

How many had died? You widen your eyes, a motion that doesn't go unnoticed by Göll.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to bum you out." Her eyes fill with tears. "I'm terrible at this."

You can't help but snort. She is an animated person. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you glance at your body once again in sadness. Göll is right; it's time to move on. As much as it pains you, it's time to leave your life on Earth. Warm tears gather in your eyes, but you blink them away and saunter toward her. Göll notices and smiles.

"There's no need to worry. I'll guide you."

She offers her hand to you, but once you take it, a strange sensation overcomes you. Something tightens simultaneously around your ankles and before your eyes, a red cord appears, flickering in and out like a light. Göll squeals in alarm.

"W-what is that?" She asks.

"You don't know? I thought you were a Valkyrie."

Leaning down, you snatch fearfully at the cord, seeing that it's transparent. What is this? It almost looks like a red string of fate. But how can this be? It's in the wrong area.

When it doesn't seem to be hurting you, besides giving you a major craving for sweets, you calm down, though your heart is pounding. It's impossible to tell where the cord is leading; it twists and coils through the rubble like a snake, going further than you can see.

"What do I do?" Göll asks out loud.

She taps her green high-top sneaker on the ground and groans.

"I'll have to take you to my oldest sister. She'll know what to do."

Grasping your shoulder, a blinding bright light surrounds you. For a moment, you fear being trapped in the light, but quickly it fades. You drop to your knees and rub at your eyes.

"Warning next time."

Göll apologies.

"I'm sorry. Please wait here, I'll be back."

You hear her sneakers squeak on the floor as she rushes away, leaving you alone. With your eyes clear, you glance around to see that you are in a bare room no bigger than a bedroom; there's honestly nothing in it. Where did the Valkyrie take you?

Standing with a grunt, you saunter toward the door, checking to see whether it will open or not. It isn't locked, so you know that you aren't a prisoner. A long marble corridor stretches out on either side of you, but as far as you can tell there is no one around. You take an uneasy breath, shutting the door. Göll had asked you to remain in the room, so you plan to do just that. You aren't certain, but a part of you wants to believe that she is going to do you no harm; she seems nice enough, and a nervous wreck perhaps.

It was nice of her to try and comfort you. Though you reckon it's her job to show sympathy toward lost souls. You feel no less grateful to her. It had been a shock to see your body lying in the dirt; the lifeless look in your eyes nearly shattered you.

And then there is this.

You lift your right leg and watch the red cord flicker in and out. It's a tether; it can't be anything else. But who is on the other end?

And what does this mean for me?

The door comes open with a sudden low click and in saunters Göll and a beautiful woman wearing an elegant white dress with gold and navy detailing. Her piercing eyes observe you in a way that makes you uneasy like you are on the receiving end of a judgmental interview.

"Lift your leg."

Can she not ask nicely? Her tone is demanding, but you can hear the interest in it. Hesitantly you bend your knee and watch as she leans down to have a look; a section of her midnight blue hair falls over her shoulder as she does.

"What does it mean?" Göll asks.

The older Valkyrie stands and hums.

"I haven't the slightest idea."

"Y-you don't?" Göll questions with a squeak.

A deep sigh comes from her sister as she closes her emerald eyes in thought.

"Calm down. I know that it's a God Tether... But for whatever reason this soul has it I don't know."

"This soul has a name," you mention giving it. "You can talk to me. It's a fate string, isn't it?"

She hums.

"It's known as a God Tether here but means the same I imagine as your interpretation of it."

"But do souls have tethers?" You ask.

The woman shakes her head.

"I've never heard of a soul possessing a tether; it's for the living. Is this the first time you've seen it?"

You're certain this is the first time. You nod.

"Very well," she utters. "This warrants an investigation. Come with me."

Raising a brow in question, you watch her turn and saunter toward the door; the feather train hemmed into the inside of her dress slides across the floor as she walks. You glance at Göll a moment in uncertainty, humming as she nods to assure you that it's fine.

As you step out into the corridor, the smooth-tongued woman turns to you.

"What sort of living arrangement suits you?"

You raise a brow in question, having been put on the spot. Your face heats up in embarrassment.

"Um... I guess comfortable and simple, but honestly anything will do."

"Göll, have someone prepare this room," she orders.

Tensing, the expressive teen nods and rushes off leaving you with her. You avert your eyes at her in question.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Brunhilde; the eldest of the Valkyrie sisters," she answers with a grin. "Now come this way."

Following her, you survey the area. There isn't much to look at as far as you can tell. The walls are decorated in elegant gold trim and some of the rooms you pass are locked with electronic keypads which is strange to you, as they appear technological; far too 20th century for a 12th-century Valkyrie to have. Did they advance with the times? Perhaps they've always had this technology and mankind just took its time.

"How many Valkyries are there? I recall reading that the number is uncertain."

Brunhilde peeks over her shoulder at you for a moment, then averts her attention to the path ahead.

"There are 13 of us."

That's a lot less than you had expected. Upon meeting Göll you had known that things were not exactly as the history books had written them to be. The question of how much intrigues you.

"And you guide souls from every corner of the Earth?" You ask.

"The human realm is known as Midgard and the God realm in which you reside is known as Valhalla, or as you know it, Heaven. Gods from every pantheon live here," Brunhilde explains. "But to answer your question, yes, we do."

Interesting. You had always assumed Valkyries only led warriors to Valhalla. This discredits a lot of theories about death in general, like there being reapers.

"Do you know a lot about God Tethers? Or fate strings as you call them," Brunhilde suddenly asks.

Peering behind you for a moment, the cord slides along the floor.

"Only what media and fanfiction taught me about them. They're called the Red String of Fate and it links you to your soulmate. But I’ve always heard that the string is around a person’s pinkie, not their ankles.”

"Then you aren't aware that a God is the one who tethers predestined humans?" Brunhilde questions.

"I wasn't aware... But it makes sense."

You frown in response. Fate is only a concept to some it seems.

Brunhilde laughs uncouthly, a noise that doesn't match her demeanor.

"You seem upset."

"That some God is yanking people around like puppets on a string, yes," you answer honestly. "It doesn't seem fair and now even in death it can't be escaped."

You don't understand it at all.

"But that's not entirely true...is it? I'm a unique case or else you wouldn't be speaking to me."

"I'm merely curious," Brunhilde answers.

She stops at the end of the corridor, behind a railing that overlooks an enormous roofless stadium with thousands of seats. Your eyes widen in amazement.

"What is this place?"

"This is the Valhalla Arena. At the moment it stands as a precaution but that matters not at this time," Brunhilde answers.

You wonder what she means by this, but taking into account her entire answer, you know it isn't your place to ask. Perhaps it is a form of entertainment for the Gods and nothing more.

I doubt it, however.

With an uneasy sigh, you glance at her.

“Somewhere out there is the one I’m bound to.”

“Yes… so until I know who they are, I’d like you to remain here,” Brunhilde concludes.

You hum in understanding. Of course, you are curious, but the unknown unnerves you.

“Who is the God who put the string on me?”

Brunhilde grins.

“His name is Yue-Lao. He is known around China as the God of Love and Marriage. And for some reason, he has taken it upon himself to tether the dead.”

You get the feeling that Brunhilde wants to know why just as much as you do.

“I’ll help in whatever way I can.”

“As one would hope,” Brunhilde states.

You have no idea how long this investigation will last, but you are willing to wait it out for clarity.

I’m dead… there’s not much else I can do.

For once time is on your side.  

#record of ragnorak #soulmate au #buddha x reader #record of ragnarok fanfic #buddha (ror) #record of ragnarok fandom #female reader

[ikeromantic]

Nobunaga heat 😚

Oh Nobunaga! My favorite tyrant of the heart ^_^ Approx. 900 words of our carnelian-eyed menace and heat.

Nobunaga could not sleep. The air in the tenshu was thick and hot and still. The night sky above, clouded and heavy, as if conspiring to keep the darkness as sweltering as the day. He shifted disconsolately on his futon, until he finally gave up on the notion and went to stand on his balcony. 

There wasn’t enough breeze to even stir his hair, but just being out here made him feel a little better. His thoughts spun through the events of the day, the concerns of his growing empire, and finally, with some anticipation, landed on the chatelaine. She’d been avoiding him of late. He knew it. Afraid of what another game of go might cause her to yield. 

He smiled, thinking of her saucy responses to him. When she forgot to be nervous, she was deeply amusing. And more. There was something about his lucky charm that made him feel peaceful. That was what he wanted right now. 

Nobunaga sent a servant scurrying to fetch her. 

She came up the stairs with a reluctant gait. He could almost hear the resistance to his summons in every step. And the first words out of her mouth as she entered his room were defiant. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“No. Do you?” He glanced at her over his shoulder. She stood in the dimlit room, as distant as she could get from his balcony perch. 

“Well . . . not exactly, no. But it’s really late. Or early. Anyway, that’s not the point! I was sleeping and you sent someone to wake me up! They had me dress in a hurry and run up here and - and there’s not even an emergency.” She ran her fingers through her hair, suddenly all nerves again, the anger bleeding out of her. 

Nobunaga felt an uncharacteristic guilt over waking her like that. She must have been worried to get such a vague, urgent message. But he shunted that emotion away and gave no sign of it in his expression. “Come here.”

She took a few steps in his direction, then paused. “You aren’t planning to play go, are you? Because I’m way too tired for that.”

“No. No games tonight.” He looked back out over the town, listening to her slow steps. 

The chatelaine stopped at the railing, more than an armslength away. “Well, good.” Then her head snapped up at some sudden thought. “I hope you aren’t under the impression I’m going to warm your bed either. I thought we were clear on that.”

“Warm my bed?” Nobunaga chuckled. “On a night like this, I think it is quite hot enough.” 

“Then . . . what do you want?”

Just you, he thought, his carnelian eyes turning toward her. He took in her lovely profile, the wisps of loose hair that clung to her neck and stuck to her cheek. “Sit.”

Her jaw clenched. “I am not some pet you can order around, mister warlord.”

He grinned. Ah that fire of hers. “Fireball, sit. Please.”

She seemed to debate whether or not the courtesy was enough. Apparently the yes vote won out as she sat down and leaned her back against the railing. “There’s a little bit of a breeze up here at least. I think it’s cooler than my room.”

“Is it?” He turned toward her. She was wearing a hastily tied kimono, thin enough that it was almost opaque had there been any light to shine through it. Her bare legs stuck out the bottom, showing his conquered territory up to her silken thigh. But he didn’t feel lust for her tonight - or not much - just a satisfaction that she was here.

The chatelaine nodded. 

Nobunaga lowered himself to the floor near her.

“Umm. What are you doing?” She eyed him the way she might a strange dog, one that was equally likely to bite as to wag his tail.

He grinned. “Just be still. I am not conquering new territory tonight. And then he laid down, settling his head on those lovely thighs. “You will be my pillow.”

The chatelaine shifted a bit under him, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “I don’t think I like this. Wouldn’t you rather have a real pillow? I can get one for you.”

“No. Now be quiet.” He shut his eyes and let himself relax into her presence. Her soft skin, the slight sweet floral scent of her perfume, and the sound of her breath and heart beat eased his tension. “Talk to me,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Tell me about your work. Your day. Anything you like.” He kept his eyes closed, cheek pressed to her leg. It was comfortable there, despite the heat. Perhaps it was just the softness of her. The gentleness that she carried with her everywhere she went.

The chatelaine sighed and after a moment, began to talk. She told him about her day. The work she did, the things she saw, people she met. There was so much joy in it. He fell still, his restlessness retreating. And with his stillness, she too let go of her worry. 

Nobunaga felt himself drifting into an empty, peaceful darkness. A place where his ambitions did not reach. A place where his burdens did not exist. 

As he let himself sink into that space, he felt her cool fingers brush his hair back from his face. “You know, like this you’re much cuter,” the chatelaine said softly. There was warm affection in her voice and in her touch.  His last thought before the darkness took him was of her. How precious she’d become to him. Love, his dream-self whispered, though waking he would have denied it.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen nobunaga #nobunaga oda #fanfiction #fanfic #otome #otome guys #fluff

[slowandsteddie]

Y’all voted on this.

“Hey there, big guy.” / “You aren’t Eddie.”

I was really really excited to write this, honestly.

It is VERY important that you read the CW on this one.

I might be working through some things I personally went through on this one, so it’s… darker than I’d normally go.

CW: Steve is drugged, very heavily implied sexual assault (maybe skip the pink font?), ptsd, mention of bad parents, drinking as a coping mechanism, underage drinking, bartender looks like Billy (isn’t btw), very brief mention of Billy’s death, mentions of drugs, mentions of weed

Lots of hurt and little comfort.

Parts of this feel kinda rushed to me, and there’s one part where that is on purpose. But, uh. Not a fan of the ending of this bc it’s late and I’m sleepy. But also I don’t wanna edit this or dwell on it or it won’t get posted at all. So. This is where we are.

Potential for a part two.

2536 words.

—

After the night that Nancy called their relationship bullshit, Steve had sworn off alcohol and any drug stronger than the weed he used to help himself sleep when he was home alone. And he had been able to stick to it, too.

Until Starcourt.

When he had nearly been killed by Russians, confessed his love to a lesbian (while he, himself was mostly gay), and saw Billy Hargrove murdered by some thing from the Upside Down.

Yeah, life was pretty fucked up. And if he found solace at the bottom of a bottle, that was his problem.

No one but Robin needed to know. That girl was his Platonic soulmate and she got to know practically everything. Hell, he had lost track of how many times they had slept in the same bed, just so they could know the other was still breathing. They clung so tight to each other that it was like they were trying to nestle into rib cages and grasp onto bones so that they couldn’t be ripped apart again.

It helped with the nightmares and the panic to have someone so close to him who understood. Someone who knew what he went through without him having to explain it. Someone who knew that the fire cover up was complete shit. Someone who wasn’t a kid that he had to protect and hide his pain from.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved those kids. He would die for them. He’d kill for them. He’d wreck the beautiful car of his dreams for them. He’d even pretend to be okay for them, no matter what. But he could never confide in them. Not about what he went through. Not the way he could with Robin.

The thing about trauma bonding with someone is that there doesn’t have to be secrets. They already knew the worst thing that you have been through, so everything else would be a cakewalk by comparison.

During the day, it was easy to be goofy and laugh and hide the fact that he had been through absolute hell. But at night, everything came back to him. Him screaming that he just worked for Scoops and not being believed. Him offering free ice cream for life, just to get out of there.

Offering his body when that didn’t work because he didn’t have anything else and he knew his parents wouldn’t pay a ransom, even if the Russians had decided to try that route. And if they took him up on that offer, no one had to know. He didn’t even have to know. He could just pretend that the drugs took those memories too and not think about it.

The night time was what had him drinking again. The sun would start setting and he’d find himself reaching for that bottle, as though he needed it as desperately as he needed air and open spaces.

Even when Robin was over, he couldn’t close the door before taking a shower. Though, that didn’t matter much, when she’d go sit on the toilet and talk to him, with nothing but a curtain between them as the water poured over him and he sobbed as silently as he could while he cleaned himself and she chatted away about some random thing that he couldn’t follow, no matter how hard he tried. On particularly bad nights, Robin would find him in the shower, and wearing his t-shirt and shorts, she would help him wash his hair, his body, while he could only lean against the wall, feeling as though he would shake himself apart.

But, he needed to get better. He couldn’t be a mess forever. He couldn’t rely on his best friend always being available to help him through the rough patches. Most people would see the therapist recommended to them after going through things like The Upside Down and days of torture at the hands of Russians in a base under the mall that they used to work in.

Not Steve.

Oh, no.

That made too much sense.

Instead of therapy, he decided that going to a gay club in Indy would be a great idea. It had been long enough that his injuries had turned to scars. Sure, his ears rang a lot and sometimes his vision went a little fuzzy if he turned his head too fast, but he was fine. Really.

He had called and told Robin where he’d be. He didn’t need her panicking because she went to his house and he wasn’t there. He also called Henderson, just to make sure one of the kids knew he wasn’t home. They all talked constantly so the message would get around.

Just because he was stupid, didn’t mean he was irresponsible.

Steve was dressed in his favorite jeans, the ones that made his ass look nice, and a yellow polo. He didn’t really have many options in terms of shirts because it was almost time to do laundry again. He hated the washer though, as he still had times when his ribs panged when he tried to lean over too far. With that stupid washer, he always had to lean too far. There was no other way to make sure he got everything out of it.

He took the time to style his hair properly, even when the effort made his arms shake and the muscles in his hands and wrists spasm. Being tortured had some lasting effects and it was annoying. He was so tired of it. Tired of being forced to remember what he went through, even while doing the most mundane things.

He flipped the collar on his shirt up to try and make sure that the scars on his neck weren’t too obvious at first glance. That was as good as it was going to get as he refused to wear makeup to cover it up.

Then, he walked out to his car after locking the front door. Here goes nothing. He slid into the car that he hadn’t actually driven in a few weeks and started her up. She purred as though it was only yesterday that she was last turned on.

Steve mouthed the directions to himself before buckling up, turning on the radio, and beginning the drive.

Time passed, though he wasn’t sure how much of it. But he did get to the club without incident. He parked his car and locked the door before putting the keys in his pocket.

His favorite thing about this place was that they didn’t ID, something that he remembered from when he had came here before Starcourt. He had just wanted to dance with fellow queers. The first few times that he was here, he had been given water when he went to the bar.

He was glad to find that this time the bartender asked him what he’d be drinking. He was glad that the blond with curly hair and a charming smile didn’t even bat an eye over his request for a shot of whiskey, and just poured the drink.

“First one’s on the house.” God, even his voice was charming.

“Thank you,” Steve replied gratefully.

He threw the drink back and didn’t even make a face over it. The familiar, warm burn of the alcohol was a welcome one.

“How much for the second?” He asked, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

“For you? A dollar a shot.”

Steve placed a 10 dollar bill down. “One shot and one mixed drink that would leave you with what you consider an acceptable tip.”

“Yessir,” the bartender replied with a smile.

It wasn’t fair that the older male had ocean eyes he could get lost in.

Steve took the shot like nothing again, running a hand through his hair. He thanked the bartender, again, before taking his mixed drink and moving to the dance floor.

He was having fun. There were a lot of people and loud music and he had some liquid courage that was also helping to keep his chronic pain under control. After a few songs, he finished his drink before going to take his glass to the bar.

He was dizzy, but he just assumed that was from turning his head too fast a few minutes ago when someone started dancing behind him. He told himself that it had just been because he wanted to know if the guy pressing against his back was cute or not. (He was.)

Steve’s thoughts were incoherent, but he had moments when his brain didn’t seem to work right, especially when he was under the influence. It was his new normal ever since his brain had been starved of oxygen. But he couldn’t think about that again. Not now.

He asked the bartender for water, noticing the name tag this time. Billy. Oh, the painful irony.

He drank it down pretty fast, fully intending to thank him for it after. But then there was an arm around his shoulder and he was moving on to help someone on the other side of the bar.

“Hey there, big guy,” the other male said while squeezing his shoulder.

“You aren’t Eddie,” he said stupidly. It was in that moment that Steve realized who he had a crush on, but that wasn’t important right now.

“I can be whoever you want me to be, handsome.”

Steve pulled away. “I’m sorry, but no. You really can’t.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. That was a bad joke. Eddie sent me to take you home.”

“He wouldn’t have sent anyone to get me.” He said defiantly. “He’d come himself,” he added to cover up whatever he had said.

The world was spinning worse and he turned to walk to the bathroom. He was being followed and he knew it, but what other choice did he have?

By the time Steve got to the bathroom, he was mostly out of it. But, he got flashes.

—

The door being locked behind them.

His pants being unbuttoned.

Trying to struggle but it was just so hard to lift his arms.

Being shoved against the counter.

Heavy breathing in his ear.

Pain.

Sliding down.

Curling into a ball.

Clutching his own shirt.

Eddie.

Eddie.

Eddie.

—

When Steve woke up again, the first thing he noticed was that he was in the trailer. The second thing he noticed was that he felt like shit. Everything hurt more than it should for just a hangover, and he didn’t even want to think about why his hips and thighs felt the way they did.

He tried to sit up, groaning over the effort before letting himself lay back down on the couch. The toilet flushed, the water ran, and then there were footsteps coming back toward him. He didn’t know why he flinched and tried to hide in the blanket he had over him, but he did.

“Hey there, big boy,” Eddie said softly.

Steve whimpered. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t like being called that anymore. It was something that the older male had called him ever since they started getting friendly. Ever since he had started buying weed from him.

“Wanna talk about it, Steve?” He added.

He shook his head.

“Why’d the bartender call me when he found you instead of Robin? Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered that you thought I was safe.”

“I don’t know. Was kinda falling apart. I guess I wanted drugs more than…”

“More than your girlfriend?”

Steve snorted. “She’s my Platonic soulmate. Capital P. Not my girlfriend.”

Eddie tilted his head. “Want me to call the soulmate?”

Steve shook his head quickly before groaning and holding his temples. “My car?” He croaked.

“I took Jeff with me to pick you up. He drove ‘er back. Your car is in my driveway, safe and sound.”

Steve made a sound and let his eyes close.

“Steve. I’m not going to make any choices for you. But you were assaulted. The only reason that bartender didn’t call the police was that he didn’t want to out you.”

His eyes fluttered. “That… that explains it.” His body chose that moment to let him pass out again.

When he was conscious again, he was still on Eddie’s couch. He could hear the other male talking on the phone. He did his best to pretend that he was still asleep. But he was crying and the sniffling gave him away.

“Hey man, do you want Robin to come here?”

“No,” he said too quickly. “I just… I need a bit to comprehend. Tell her an hour, yeah? Then I’ll go with her and get out of your hair.”

Eddie relayed the message and hung up.

“He drugged me. But I still knew what was up. He flirted with me, but I wasn’t interested. I said he wasn’t you as though I had some kind of right to want it to be you who was flirting, man. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Of course it was only the apology that Eddie picked up on.

“Because I have no right to have a crush on you after how I treated you. Because I have no right to tell you that I have a crush on you after what happened to me.”

“If that’s how you feel, then I have no right to tell you that the feeling is mutual and that I have every intention of finding the guy who did this to you and making him pay. I have no right to feel so possessive and protective. I have no right to tell you that I always run away, but right now I just want to fight for you.”

“Mm. You’re right. We have no right to be having this conversation when it’s too much for me.”

Eddie was about to get up.

“Hold me?” Steve asked so quietly.

And his request was honored so gently. He might have been whimpering and flinching, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing the older male’s shirt and clinging to it.

When Robin barged into the trailer, exactly sixty-one minutes later, Steve flinched and his hands gripped on to Eddie’s knees tightly.

Eddie was sitting sideways on the couch, his legs spread so that Steve could be seated between them. His back was against the older male’s chest and his hands had been playing with the loose threads over Eddie’s knees before he was startled. Eddie had been trying to braid Steve’s too short hair as they listened to some music that neither male was paying enough attention to in order to place.

As soon as he saw his best friend, he was struggling to his feet before stumbling over to her with all the grace of a newborn giraffe.

“R-Robbie.”

“Stevie.”

“I shouldn’t have gone.”

“Hey, don’t blame yourself.”

They were clinging to each other, both of them shaking.

“Promised to never leave you again.”

“It’s okay. We’ll get through this. Also, Eddie is driving us home because I refuse to let go of you.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

“And then you’re staying, too.” Steve added.

“I am.” There was a smile to Eddie’s voice at that.

Despite everything, Steve liked him and felt safe with him. Hopefully Eddie would never do anything to break that.

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x eddie #read the cw #read the tw #i’m sorry pls forgive me #steddie fanfiction #so much angst #feat stobin #platonic stobin #platonic with a capital p #robin buckley #robin buckley stranger things #bad guy oc #slowandsteddie

[fluffy-little-demon]

Fade Away

Poly!Sinclair Brothers x Hinge!Reader

This was inspired by the song Shapeshifting by Taylor Acorn I have used some lines from the song for the dialogue spoken by the reader (in italics) Bold is sign language

She/her pronouns, nicknames darlin, baby, babygirl, sweetheart and sweet pea are used

Just to be clear you are dating all three sinclairs and all three sinclairs are dating you but the brothers are NOT dating each other which would make you the hinge of this poly relationship

Tagging @rottent33th and the people who voted for this story thank you 💕 @slutforguts @sketchy-rosewitch @the-cannibal @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @bric-a-brac-brooke @cordelium @heyhowareyaxd

If I fade away will they miss me

This was all you've been thinking about, it was all you could think about. Would any of them notice if you had gone? If they did they would most likely think you had just ran away. Surely they wouldn't care enough to actually go looking for you. Nobody from your old life did. They all think you're dead, right?

You had finished all the housework a lot earlier than normal, since you couldn't sleep last night. You were now sitting by the window still watching the rain come down. You've always loved the rain, finding peace in the noise, smell and feel on your skin. You were hoping the rain would at least try to make you feel better but all you felt was pure emptiness. Wondering if going outside to be in the rain might help, except you can't find the energy to move your body so you just sit there as the thoughts take hold of your mind once again.

Bo had noticed something was off about you. He couldn't quite tell what it was and he didn't know how to talk to you about it so he was just waiting until you came to him. He wondered if either of his brothers could tell there was something off too, he's sure Vincent does. Bo heads down into the basement to see if you've told him anything.

"Hey Vince, have you noticed Y/N acting... strange lately?"

Vincent nodded slightly, I don't know what's wrong with her, she hasn't really been coming into the basement a lot lately.

"Oh, ok thanks" turning around, going back to the house Bo gets out his phone calling Lester to ask the same question. Lester tells him that when he asked if you wanted to go on a ride in the truck with him you declined while looking weight down, you just told him you were very tired. Bo thanks his brother and hangs up. Now he's even more worried about you, Bo walks up to your bedroom gently knocking the door. "Hey Y/N you alright darlin?" When you don't answer, Bo opens the door to find you sitting on the floor looking out the window, your legs up to your chest with arms wrapped around them.

Bo walks up to you slowly sitting on the floor next to you. Your eyes fixed on watching the rain, refusing to meet his eyes knowing as soon as you look at him you will shatter.

"Baby" Bo started in the softest voice you've ever heard him use. "Baby, hey can you tell me what's wrong"

Vincent and Lester had come into the bedroom joining you and Bo on the floor. Vincent reached out slowly rubbing your back. "Y/N, we're here for ya. We just wanna help" Lester said trying to get you to talk.

"I just wanna make sense of it all" you said almost in a whisper

"Need to make sense of what darlin?" Lester said

"How was I supposed to know I'd feel nothing in my bones. Been putting on a show for everybody but me" you spoke so quietly Bo almost would have preferred you to be yelling and screaming at him. He could handle that. None of the brothers are very good with emotions. None of them really knew what to do. They just hoped that being there and talking, offering comfort would be enough.

Bo pulled you into a hug, you didn't move to wrap your arms around him like you normally would but as soon as your head hit his shoulder everything built up inside you just exploded. Your body racked with sobs, you hands came up grabbing ahold of Bo's shirt. Vincent took off his mask, wrapped his arms around your middle from behind and pressed his forehead into your neck trying to give some skin to skin comfort since he couldn't use words. Lester joined the hug as well "it's ok sweet pea, it's gonna be ok"

"Breathe sweetheart it's alright, we got you" Bo trying to calm you down.

Once the tears slowed down, Vincent signed what's going on in that pretty head of yours?

In a shaky voice you replied "I don't think I can do this anymore. Lyin' awake another night, wondering why I'm still here? I'm not special, there's nothing even remotely interesting about me. I'm just a burden. Would you even miss me? I'm not pretty, I know that. There were other girls in the group that I came here with that were so much more gorgeous than me yet they're all wax and I'm still breathing. Most nights, I feel like I'm dying fast and living low at least that's how it feels when I can't sleep"

The three men stayed silent for a moment as you wiped your eyes with your sleeve trying to stop stray tears rolling down your face.

Vincent reached up to cup the side of your face, running his thumb across your cheek. Removing his hand he signed Y/N you are not a burden. We all love you so much.

"Vincent's right, you've made our lives so much better." Lester assured you

"Babygirl" Bo gently grabbed hold of your chin so you were looking directly at him. "You are the most interesting and gorgeous person I, we have ever met. There's also a shit ton of special things about you. So don't you dare even for a second think that we would be better off without you." He was trying to hold a stern expression but you could see his eyes were beginning to tear up.

You could feel your own eyes begin to water, only single tears rolling down your face as your body was too tired to cry anymore. Vincent carefully scooped you up, walking across the room placing you on the bed. He laid down on his side beside you kissing your cheek before resting his head on your chest and wrapping his arm around your middle. Bo joined in doing the same as Vincent lying on his side beside you kissing your cheek before lying his head on your chest and arm around your waist. Lester kissed your forehead then very carefully positioned himself to lie on your belly.

"We need you sweetheart. Of course we would miss you"

You run a hand through Lester's curls then wrap an arm around each twin. You smile as you kiss them.

Been puttin' on a show shapeshiftin'

First fic after not writing anything for about four and a half months also first one of 2023!

I don't know how I feel about the ending I had no clue how to do it 😅

Reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated 💕

#bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #bo sinclair comfort #bo sinclair fic #bo sinclair fanfic #bo sinclair imagine #vincent sinclair comfort #vincent sinclair imagine #lester sinclair imagine #lester sinclair comfort #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #sinclair brothers #sinclair twins #poly sinclairs #kim's writing

[endlessraine]

Nameless ghoul head cannons no one asked for

Dewdrop is nothing like his on stage personality, no one knows why he chose to be like that but he’s actually very quite and reserved.

Dewdrop had like a shit tone of scars, Rain too, like they're the type of people to have a giant cut on their arm and be like “I have 0 fucking clue where that came from”

Rain goes mute when he’s overwhelmed/anxious, so there have been times on your when the ghouls will notice Rain isn’t talking so they do a ghoul pile to try and help soothe his nerves.

Rain also has sensory issues so he had to have his uniform altered so he could wear it without wanting to rip it off.

Dewdrop also has sensory issues but more when it comes to food, he's very picky about what he eats, a lot of the time when he won't eat something it's because of the texture not the taste.

RAIN ALSO HAS A WEIGHTED BLANKET AND WILL NOT SLEEP WITHOUT IT

Mountain has issues with his joints because of his hight, the other ghouls do a vote every morning on if Mountain is gonna come down to the common room himself or if someone’s gonna have to help the poor guy down the stairs.

Mountain grows weed, self explanatory

Aether likes hanging out around Copias office to make sure he doesn’t over work and burn himself out, there has been a few times where he found Copia asleep at his desk so he carried him to bed.

Aether is a morning person, mfs up as soon as the sun starts to rise

Swiss is an amazing cook, the first time he made food for everyone they were genuinely shocked that he didn’t burn the ministry down.

Also that man can and will dance and and everywhere to any song, he just likes to grove

Sunshine is very self conscious about joining the band late, but all the other ghouls try to make sure she feels welcome:)

She has poor impulses control and will just do or say anything she thinks of consequences be damned

Cirrus loves baking, she makes pies around the holidays and is ALWAYS the one to make “birthday” cakes(I’ll get into why i have birthday in quotations)

She also really likes flower language, she’ll get flowers from mountains garden and gift them to other ghouls and explain the meaning behind them, all the ghouls have kept every single one.

Cumulus really enjoys painting, she could do it for hours, the walls of her room are covered in paintings she made, it’s pretty common to find her sitting in a chair, covered in paint happily working on a painting without a care in the world

She is like the mom of the group, besides Copia she is usually the one that plans hang outs, brings food ect when they all go out and she always keeps some extra cash on her just in case.

Ghouls don’t have birthdays once summoned to earth, their “birthdays” are their summoning day, they chose to do this because non of them have very good memories from being in hell so this helps them separate it well still being able to celebrate someone:)

Ghouls are people who died and went to hell, once their they decided to serve for Satan, becoming ghouls, so all the ghouls have little marks or “tattoos” representing how they died it usually has somthing to do with their element.

Ghouls are supposed to be in some sort of pact, isolating a ghoul could quite literally lead to them dying.

They can all speak ghoulish

Newly summoned or younger ghouls won’t talk to higher ups or humans in general, usually resorting to sign language or writing on paper

THATS ALL I HAVE RN

Hope you enjoy them ALSO PLEASE SEND ME YOUR HEADCANNONS IN MY ASK BOX I WANNA HEAR THEM.

#the band ghost #ghost the band #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #nameless ghoul headcanons #aether ghoul #rain ghoul #mountian ghoul #swiss ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #the band ghost headcanons #RAHHH I LOVE THESE SILLY LITTLE GHOULS

[defectivequeerforceuser]

I think we should celebrate long term fans who have been in the fandom forever... but I also think we should celebrate fandom transplants who've recently come to make fandoms we love more vibrant and fun!

I, personally, joined the Star Wars fandom a little over a year ago today. It's not that I hadn't been a Star Wars fan before - I loved the originals as a kid (and of course had seen the prequels) and spent hours running around pretending to be Star Wars characters or playing with my action figures (yes, little girls collect them too). But, when the first of the Rey movies came out and I went to the movie in my first ever cosplay as Leia from Hoth I was devastated - pretty soon my Star Wars figures were packed away and I'd moved on to different fandoms (no offense to the sequels, of course, but I'll never unlike the horror of being 11, sitting in the front row of the late showing, and watching Han Solo die on the screen). So, for most of my teenage years I kinda looked down on Star Wars as a thing of the past. Then Andor came out. I know, I know, it was only a year ago, but boy did it make an impact! I'd really enjoyed Rogue One and remembered liking Cassian's character, but that show... man, it took me by surprise. Just like that I'd fallen back into the fandom as a hardcore RebelCaptain shipper and a devoted Rogue One (and Andor) groupie. And then things started to take off! Next I watched The Mandalorian while reading all the Rogue One related novels I could get my hands on. Then I asked my sister to pick Rebels or Bad Batch for our summer viewing (I voted Bad Batch) and we took of on a Rebels filled summer that ended with Ahsoka which I frankly found disappointing but which inspired some of the most popular fan fiction I've written to this day. Growing up my parents didn't let me and my siblings watch TV shows (until I was 12 and bagging to watch Avatar: The Last Airbender) so I'd never seen the Star Wars TV shows (honestly, I was a live action purest). Let me tell you, I'm kinda glad I didn't! These shows are NOT for kids but they're perfect for me :) Then, I fell down the Bad Batch rabbit hole (starting last fall). I still looove Rogue One and Andor, but they became second favorites as I was sucked in to the nontraditional, queer coded, found family that is the Bad Batch - Hunter has become my Star Wars alter ego and honestly I hope that never changes. Now I'm working my way through The Clone Wars while of course enjoying and dreading each new installment of the Bad Batch's final season. I know it's only been a year, and maybe something will shake me from the fandom, but honestly, I'm pretty sure I'm here to stay - being a transplant fan is awesome!!

#star wars fandom #star wars #fandom culture #fandom things #the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #the clone wars #the mandalorian #the prequel trilogy #andor #rebelcaptain #rogue one #star wars rebels

[danketsuround]

sunday six!

early again (late for me, but). i wrote this on tumblr while waiting for a package that hasn't arrived yet. tagging uhhh @four-white-trees @c-cw-f-saeko @overdevelopedglasses @fire-tempers-steel @passthroughtime and uh i forgot who else is participating in this

sawa and mitsuru one shot below. not an au, they're just in high school. i was complaining earlier today about how they didn't get to interact at all (like, not even in a flashback???) so like whatever i wrote my own thing. be the change you want to see in the world. kthnxbye

Past a road on a steel bridge, among little fossils in a river, there was a mound of green grass, and two bikes laying diagonally atop each other. Mitsuru laid there in the sun, craning his neck upwards to look at their chains, tangled like legs under a blanket. He sighed and let his head drop against the ground. It made a sound much heavier than him.

"Mind your head," pretty Sawa seemed to scold him, as if he were some infant with a soft spot in his skull. She had the nerve to speak to him so dearly, even as he twisted the grass between his fingers in anxious sorrow.

"It didn't hurt," he said, not bothering to look up again.

Her little patent leather shoes hit rocks. She had been balancing on a log near the river. He heard the gravel under her feet, then the grass, and then the sun disappeared.

"You have a grass stain on your shirt."

A halo of light hit her backside. Had he prayed more, he thought, maybe the angel would say something useful, or kind.

"That's okay," he replied shyly. She was tall; tall enough to call the sun again when she sat beside him.

They had biked from the train station—as most high schoolers did—recklessly, without their helmets. Sawa lived three doors down and across from him, in a smaller, gated house, with a nice windowsill tomato garden and an old dog with a hoarse bark. Despite this, they never saw each other. Better yet, Mitsuru never saw her. He kept his head down and looked at his feet like his shoes were in danger of catching on fire at any moment. He was quick-footed, too, despite his chronic tardiness—or, perhaps, because of it. Sawa held onto his arm in the sardine-packed commute of the sweaty summer afternoon rush. She didn't let go when the doors opened, or when they squeezed out of the car, or when they took the escalator down; and she didn't say a word to him at all until Mitsuru found he had locked his bike next to hers, and suddenly it seemed his feet were safe of any interesting fires. She wanted to tutor him.

"No thanks," he told her, then frowned when tall and pretty Sawa made an angry wrinkled face like she was going to chew him.

In the long hour they walked their bikes together, he discovered her face was stuck like that, always, even when she smiled. He thought, that's probably why no one messed with her, and why she won the student council election by a landslide. It was the first day of the second semester and they came to the knoll, together.

"Are you eighteen already?" Sawa asked him out of air, watching the sun lower behind the old bridge.

Mitsuru shook his head into the dirt.

"Are you?"

"I turned eighteen over the summer."

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks."

Then it was quiet again when Mitsuru started thinking about sitting at the dinner table with a grass stain on his shirt, and his mother with her eyes on some stack of papers he couldn't read.

"I'm still a kid compared to you."

"I guess."

"You can vote, and take out a loan, and apply for a credit card, and stuff."

"I can't drink yet."

For some reason, she defended herself.

"But you're closer," he argued anyways. "And you're taller than me."

She laughed. "Age doesn't have much to do with that."

He looked at her and, for some reason, he grew excited.

"Do you think I'll grow ten centimeters by winter?"

"No," she said, which sounded cruel coming from her chewy face. "Or, I guess you'll have to wait and see."

"Yeah, I'll wait," he said sadly. "I'll wait."

She loosened her clip and pulled her fingers through the bend in her hair. Being a girl seemed really hard, but, like most things, Sawa did it effortlessly. He hadn't noted much about her, but he knew she played the cello, and that she played it beautifully. She could have played a stand-out instrument—the violin like Mamiya, or the flute, like himself, which stood-out in terrible, shrill ways—but she played the low, humming background of an instrument and she played it better than anyone else. Her kindness was the same, her voice played a pitying, slow tune.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

He imagined she asked because she, a grown up, already knew.

"A nurse."

"A nurse!"

Admittedly, her shock stung a little.

"That's just the first thing that came to mind. I want to work in a hospital, like my mom."

Sawa tucked her legs in. "Is she worried about exams?"

He wrinkled his face taking another blow, then shook his head in an uncaring way.

"No, she doesn't worry about me," he said. "She thinks I can do anything."

"You can do anything."

Mitsuru shrugged. "I don't know."

"You can play the flute pretty well."

"I don't know."

"And you can swim pretty well, too."

"I don't know. I hate swimming."

She leaned forward. "Do you like being a nurse? Don't say you don't know."

His answer was silence instead.

"What do you want to be?"

She held her breath. Her face was red and puffy and she laughed when she couldn't hold it any longer. On her back, next to Mitsuru, she said, "I don't know."

Mitsuru scrambled to his feet while Sawa held her stomach, spitting and laughing and hitting the ground with her legs.

"Well!" He said stridently. "Then! Then, then! Why'd you make me pick!"

When she finally calmed down, she said, "I want to know more about you, Kusumoto."

That was a damn good answer—better than one he could ever give. The sun had mostly set, leaving gradients of pink and yellow, which settled starkly under the coming twilight. He stuck out his hand for her to take it; his actions were bold but he was red in the face, redder than Sawa's spitting laughter.

"I want to go home now," he said. "And do my laundry."

"Okay." She took his hand but pulled herself up by her legs. They untangled their bikes and she motioned putting on an invisible helmet, then she led the way because her house was a block further than his.

On their bikes, Mitsuru yelled, "Maybe you should be a teacher."

"Maybe," she yelled back.

"I'd like to see that." He was smiling but she couldn't see. "Sawa-sensei."

#sunday six #judgement #rgg